A World of Pain
by Sanjana Rachakada
Dear Ahmaud Arbery,
Let me start by introducing myself. My name is Siddhartha, and I am reaching out to you as more than just a friend. I am reaching out to you as someone who shares your pain—the pain of heartbreak. While my wound may not be as deep as yours, we are in this together. Like you, I have been running all my life. For you, running has been a passion; it brought meaning to your life. When you ran, the world around you slowed down. Time was frozen. Unlike you, many people wouldn’t put a pause on their journey to college to take the time to think. Nowadays, society is so caught up in the commotion that defines its life. But you, Ahmaud, you are different. Your laughter, so infectious, resonates with the people you love. I applaud you for that.
Unfortunately for me, running did quite the opposite. My thirst for finding my own passion, my inner self, led me to run from one place to the next. My restless mind always searched for more and never let me listen to my heart. My background and my history defined me. “I have had to experience so much stupidity, so much vices, so much error, so much nausea, disillusionment and sorrow, just in order to become a child again and begin anew” But from this experience, I have learned that in order to reach atman, I must start from nothing. I must become an innocent child, I must let go of my constant chase, I must let go of myself just to find it. For all my past selves—as the Brahmin’s son, the Samana, the rich man—they weren’t really me. They were all an illusion created by society. “I called the world of appearances, illusion.” Forever trapped in this cycle of false appearances, society fails to take action against the prejudices that rise around them. Blinded by their own illusions, innocent victims like you, Ahmaud, are penalized for breathing the very same air.
We all make mistakes in our lives. I, for starters, had to become a Samana and view life with nothing but an egoistic perception. I had to go to the city and become one of the childlike people to share their greed, their lust, and their pointless desires. But in the end, these errors proved to be necessary pit stops along my journey. You too, Ahmaud, have made some regrettable mistakes. Like me, however, these mistakes have taught you well, better than any teacher or textbook. You decided to pursue a career as an electrician, but knew that you needed a break from the pandemonium of life. And this is how it started. Every day you ran. You ran to clear your head. You ran to Fancy Buff Road to Jekyll Island Causeway to Satilla Shores. Most importantly, you ran for your own nirvana—but that is not what they saw.
They saw a cloud of your so-called freedom kicking up from every step you took. They saw the opportunity to assert their supremacy and feed their burning indignation. They saw the color of your skin, which shouldn’t have made a difference. They saw your innocence, yet chose to ignore it. They saw the firearms. They saw the illusion. They murdered.
My dear Ahmaud, I am sorry. I am listening to your cries of pain. We are all listening. As you travel through the gates of heaven, I continue to travel through the river. I continue to listen.
Yours truly,
Siddhartha
Let me start by introducing myself. My name is Siddhartha, and I am reaching out to you as more than just a friend. I am reaching out to you as someone who shares your pain—the pain of heartbreak. While my wound may not be as deep as yours, we are in this together. Like you, I have been running all my life. For you, running has been a passion; it brought meaning to your life. When you ran, the world around you slowed down. Time was frozen. Unlike you, many people wouldn’t put a pause on their journey to college to take the time to think. Nowadays, society is so caught up in the commotion that defines its life. But you, Ahmaud, you are different. Your laughter, so infectious, resonates with the people you love. I applaud you for that.
Unfortunately for me, running did quite the opposite. My thirst for finding my own passion, my inner self, led me to run from one place to the next. My restless mind always searched for more and never let me listen to my heart. My background and my history defined me. “I have had to experience so much stupidity, so much vices, so much error, so much nausea, disillusionment and sorrow, just in order to become a child again and begin anew” But from this experience, I have learned that in order to reach atman, I must start from nothing. I must become an innocent child, I must let go of my constant chase, I must let go of myself just to find it. For all my past selves—as the Brahmin’s son, the Samana, the rich man—they weren’t really me. They were all an illusion created by society. “I called the world of appearances, illusion.” Forever trapped in this cycle of false appearances, society fails to take action against the prejudices that rise around them. Blinded by their own illusions, innocent victims like you, Ahmaud, are penalized for breathing the very same air.
We all make mistakes in our lives. I, for starters, had to become a Samana and view life with nothing but an egoistic perception. I had to go to the city and become one of the childlike people to share their greed, their lust, and their pointless desires. But in the end, these errors proved to be necessary pit stops along my journey. You too, Ahmaud, have made some regrettable mistakes. Like me, however, these mistakes have taught you well, better than any teacher or textbook. You decided to pursue a career as an electrician, but knew that you needed a break from the pandemonium of life. And this is how it started. Every day you ran. You ran to clear your head. You ran to Fancy Buff Road to Jekyll Island Causeway to Satilla Shores. Most importantly, you ran for your own nirvana—but that is not what they saw.
They saw a cloud of your so-called freedom kicking up from every step you took. They saw the opportunity to assert their supremacy and feed their burning indignation. They saw the color of your skin, which shouldn’t have made a difference. They saw your innocence, yet chose to ignore it. They saw the firearms. They saw the illusion. They murdered.
My dear Ahmaud, I am sorry. I am listening to your cries of pain. We are all listening. As you travel through the gates of heaven, I continue to travel through the river. I continue to listen.
Yours truly,
Siddhartha
About the Author
Sanjana Rachakada is a rising high school senior from New Jersey. Her piece, which is told by the intellect Siddhartha Goutama, focuses on the importance of listening to everyone’s story and hearing their voices. She is an active supporter of not only the BLM movement, but also other human rights causes. Recently, she co-founded a chapter of a nonprofit organization, Amnesty Monroe, and is trying to pass an ethnic studies bill for high school students in New Jersey. Check out her petition here!
https://www.change.org/p/new-jersey-governor-make-ethnic-studies-a-requirement-for-all-high-school-students-in-new-jersey
In her free time, she enjoys drawing, writing, spending time with friends and family, and catching up on her favorite tv shows.
If you would like to contact the author with comments, compliments, or questions use the form below. Please understand that this is a project of love and support for our authors and our young readers, so negativity will not get you in touch with any of our authors.
https://www.change.org/p/new-jersey-governor-make-ethnic-studies-a-requirement-for-all-high-school-students-in-new-jersey
In her free time, she enjoys drawing, writing, spending time with friends and family, and catching up on her favorite tv shows.
If you would like to contact the author with comments, compliments, or questions use the form below. Please understand that this is a project of love and support for our authors and our young readers, so negativity will not get you in touch with any of our authors.
Comments
Congratulations on this beautifully written, poignant, and important piece. YOU have honored Ahmaud Arbery with eloquence and intelligence. --Debra Sundstrom
Congratulations on this beautifully written, poignant, and important piece. YOU have honored Ahmaud Arbery with eloquence and intelligence. --Debra Sundstrom
(A Scribd version of this document is below).
Copyright notice: A World of Pain by Sanjana Rachakada - © 2020 All rights reserved.
Any redistribution or reproduction of part or all of the contents in any form is prohibited other than the following:
Any redistribution or reproduction of part or all of the contents in any form is prohibited other than the following:
- you may print or download to a local hard disk extracts for your personal and non-commercial use only
- you may copy the content to individual third parties for their personal use, but only if you acknowledge the author as the source of the material
