Hillol Sobhan (Bangladesh), journalist

P-dungeon: A useless soliloquy

I dwell in a P-dungeon. That’s my world. I see things…hear…feel…smell…and perceive. P-dungeon is my dazzling sunshine, cool crimson sky…my breath…my quintessence…it’s everything. Here, I am forever fettered…ingrained…indebted…inexorably attached.

From the dungeon, every now and then I see the world outside. It’s crazy. I fail to fathom. I know not why I am often so lost in nothingness. Or perhaps I seek out something out of nothing.

My mind is shaped or possibly de-shaped. Did I mould it? Is it some parasites eating out all the good cells in my brains? Did I trade my soul like Dr. Faustus? Or it’s an occupation of mind?

We are poor; they tell us. And we reciprocate. We say you people are rich! They smile. We smile too; not necessarily knowing why. Or sometimes we don’t smile lest it turns sardonic. Why is it always us and them? Is it the eternal game plan? Who dissects the world into first, second and third world? Do we then need a chimerical fourth world? Does it really exist? Do any of these really exist? Is it necessary to constantly toll the division bell? Who gets what from this imposed hierarchy? Is it hierarchy or discrimination? Who asks whom? Who would answer? Is there an answer? Who knows! Who and what defines poverty? Is it money only? What about money with corrupt minds or vice versa? Who measures the poverty of mind? What is a poor mind by the way? Should we have an index? Who to measure, with what? Can economically poor people with other richness be called rich, or at least half-rich?

We see evils in Latin America and in Asia; and in Africa. We have evil here and evil there; evil everywhere. Why all the evils are concentrated in our areas. And why all the ever-holy saints are there on the other side. Are some nations genetically evil or at least politically? How come some are former evils? What changed them from evil to good friends? I need to know. Who decides who is evil? Who brands them to me? Do I ever question myself? Or I don’t? Who to blame?

What do you call external threats, national security, invasion, pre-emptive strike, occupation? Who defines? Who decides? And more importantly who justifies? Do I agree? No.

Who to tell all these? Do I always have to look up to the others? Why can’t I stand up and shout? Or I did? How many times?  Was it enough?

Why am I ever confined in my P-dungeon? Why this dungeon of perception? Is it my own shadow that forever haunts me? Or I tread other’s shadows? Why do I do that?

Who controls my mind? Who constructs my reality? Do I eat information? Or I am fed? Do I look for other dishes? Why not? What do I digest? Can I blame anyone but me? Are there many choices? Who sells them to me?

Do I ever question? I wonder.