What message do you have for the world today?
I was born in the faraway city called Baku, on the shores of the beautiful Caspian Sea...
Faraway, because now I live across the globe, in US Northwest...
Faraway, because now I live in a completely different era of my life...
I don't have too many memories of my life there, as it seems to have happened so long ago. I left Baku when I was still a child. I remember my childhood friends. I remember the glittering sun on the sand beaches, and slow gentle waters of the warm sea, and the grape vines growing right out of sand. I remember the white and pink rich lace of the apple and cherry and peach trees in bloom. And I remember the winds, winds, winds.... It was a very happy place to grow up.
I also remember the other side of Baku. When the happy started changing into confused surprise, then into sore heartache, and then into apprehension, panic, and terror... It was late 1980's.
I would not go into politics of what had happened, or the philosophy of it - social terror, displacement of thousands of people based on their nationality, unspeakable violence... The world has seen examples of such happenings many times and in many places throughout the history of humanity. Such examples can be found in the world today. I do not take upon myself to predict the future, but I would be very surprised if such atrocities would never happen again on our planet.
My memories of those times still make my soul squeeze with hurt. I remember my school "friends", with whom I used to play before, turn away from me because I was in the "wrong camp". I remember my parents not letting me out alone anymore, even to walk the dog - it was too dangerous.
I remember my family and I deciding on the best escape route from our home if "they..." came for us. "They..."? Who were "they..."? I had a very vague idea of people with guns, maybe masked, with 'bad' intentions - I couldn't picture those intentions precisely at the time.
And then we left our home. Taking only what we could carry, leaving most of the possessions behind. We left into a nowhere. Into a mere promise of more security. Into the promise of survival.
We were among the few of the lucky families who decided to leave early. There were many who stayed behind, hoping that the authorities would "fix" the situation for the better. Hoping for protection and for the return of the old peaceful life. Their hope soon turned into dismay, hope for which they had to pay an unbearable price. Murder, rape, homes set on fire... Some managed to escape, and many did not.
That happened many years ago, on the normal scale of time, and eons ago on the scale of my heart. The memories of the events have faded, the pain in my soul had subsided.
Yet, the memories of my city remain... My city, my Baku, somewhere far away... Built by the human love and cooperation, torn by the human brutality. Although it has been rebuilt, and revived, it is quite different now from what I remember it to be. Some day I hope to muster up enough bravery and visit it again. When (and if) I visit, I know I would cry... maybe smile too... Would I find familiar places? Or someone I knew from the past? Perhaps...
But mainly I will be looking to find that part of myself that got lost, long ago, in that faraway city on the shores of the Caspian Sea.
Our outside world is a reflection of our inner world... Or is it?
This implies the system of duality - inside vs. outside. But how about putting both 'worlds' into one?
Do you have an insight into this topic? Please share....