Monday, July 31, 2017

What after the war?


A life of constant insecurity is led by people living under the claws of war. Everything appears imminent but nothing is indeed. A life to be lived at the precipice. A baseless internal hope that things might be fixed the coming morning. A substantiated fear that things might get worse the coming day. Abrupt internal shifts of hope and despair causes internal agitation. Weariness becomes the constant. An ongoing plight, a seemingly endless distortion, a progressively deteriorating life, render one’s senses unable to sense. The inability manifests due to the difficulty of comprehending the situation. Our brains aim to find patterns that seem sensible, then lead our bodies according to those patterns, but when the brain fails to do so for some time, it might lose its pattern recognition capacity as everything around seems “chaotic”.



The beautiful morning cup of tea becomes a tasteless colored liquid that is sipped in a ritualistic way. The stroll to the market is a forced activity replete of internal humiliation, as the hopes of being capable of sustaining minimal rations to stay alive, dwindle day by day. Terrified faces all around. Hopelessness mirrored at every corner. The muscles that allow one to smile seem to have atrophied as they are present but unused. Children no longer ask where will they enjoy their weekend, but if they will live till the weekend. A teenager no longer thinks of revenging on his classmate who tackled him on the football game yesterday, but what will his father do to pay the rent of the house, as it seems they will be removed before he can have another physical education class. A junior student no longer wonders on the smile of the gentle guy who shared his pen, but she finds herself wondering when the miserable grimaces of her younger siblings shall fade. The sunset is no longer a divine beauty, but rather a path to a darkening sky sending a heartbreaking sign of another closed door, which might have led to the chest of hope.



The sweet outlines of normal daily routines are invaded. The background that gives life to actions is suspended. The very slight nuances that happen are no longer experienced. Internal apathy accumulates and suffocates. As an arrogant neuroscientist would say, “it seems that the receptors on the neurons that make one experience some form of pleasure have been ‘down-regulated’, and it seems that the neurons are insensitive, rendering the person ‘apathetic’”.



The impact is extensive. Just like a depressed person wonders how people might be experiencing pleasure, a person living between the canines of war may wonder what life without war is. The inability to see anything beyond it can takeover. The constant fear, and the intensifying despair “rewires” the brain. The intensity of the situation hijacked the mental apparatus fully, even though it has experienced some form of life before being hijacked. The capacity of looking back at pleasant memories could be lost. Darkness triumphs. A depressed person can ask himself if he was ever happy, so can a person who lives in an ongoing war ask himself if he ever slept peacefully.

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