By: Menna Sherif
also titled: death without demise
The plague, aka the Black Death, killed about 60% of Europe’s population. It snaked across towns and slithered into households. Spreading faster than wildfire; it devoured every human being in its path, leaving none a virgin, all defiled. What introduced it into Europe in the first place? Rasputin the rat and it affected millions.
The only thing that has infected as many people is the saying “I want to change the world”. That goal has echoed throughout our generation. It devoured, and ultimately destroyed and distorted our vision of reality. Misguidedly it masquerades the world as something as easily changeable as your Facebook status with the harsh, cripplingly cold reality being as easily changeably as the past. Changing the world is not only used as a makeshift objective in life but an excuse in everyday life. Mind you, nothing is wrong with wanting, yearning, wishing and praying to change the world but every war has its battle plan, with tactical moves and an unprecedented, innovative strategy and change requires nothing less.
One thing is prerequisite to change the world: changing you. It is the only battle field dry of blood and burying no bodies; where no man’s land is an ivory tower.
Shed every miracle and misfortune that clothes your personality like snakes shed their skin, stand naked and bask in the sunlight of who you will be, for modesty was a time eons before. Fear no pain, no tear and no scars for as Mawlana Rumi once said “The wound is the place where light enters you”. Embrace the storms that are your flaws and drown your ego, greed and bitterness, leave all that is green to rot, celebrate the eradication of the memories that paralyzed you, the ones that shackled you and drugged you with venomous love and dragged you through the mud of their companionship. Let the thunder deafen your senses and scream the words you’ve been inadequate to say and the lightening part the skies and paint what your fingers have been unable to create, let your spirit catch fire, rise like a phoenix. Allow the supernova that is you set aflame every fragment of your soul that never found a counterpart. For the instant you reach unity and totality within yourself synchronously a star dies and floods the universe with light as melting snow floods rivers and forsakes in its wake another fiery footprint in the cosmos for posterities to come to attempt to understand. Become yourself and blind hearts with the beauty that is you. You carry the blood of your ancestors before you, claim their monumental memories as your own; build yourself a sanctuary, a mountain of every time someone once wished to metamorphose the macrocosm.
For by changing yourself you have changed the world that is you. Let your testimony be a fable and call your reemergence, the white death.
“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.”