Disgust | Teen Ink

Disgust

February 27, 2017
By EmaanAhmed BRONZE, Dubai, Other
EmaanAhmed BRONZE, Dubai, Other
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Black and blue stained the cobbled alleyways of Lahore, red threatening to spill over. A cacophony of agonizing shrieks and blood-curdling screeches pound my ears, accompanied by the barbarous shrills of laughter ringing in the air. Two… three…four iron fiends reign high in the air, taunting its trembling prey. Down they come, beating and thrashing the innocence that lay before my eyes; battering until all life escapes his abused body. A sea of soulless creatures gawk at the commotion. They stand idle- not a single one ready to lend a helping hand. His motionless corpse lay tangled on the floor. Cuts, bruises and burns flower his tattered body, leaving their heinous mark. Blood caresses his comatose being, befouling his ragged shirt. The savages’ snicker, content with the harrowing art they produced on the blank canvas that was once an innocent boy- a boy who had left home to get medicine for his sick mother and never returned. A poverty-stricken boy who had done no wrong, but instead was forced to be on the receiving end of a revolting game, played by the filthy rich.  Among the crowd are the officials, their badges protruding from their chests. Pride showers them, leaving them with a straightened back and a bounce in their step. But what good is their pride when all they do is stare? Not help; not stop those barbarians, but just stare because once those greedy pigs have obtained their golden prize, not a fragment of sympathy passes through them. Disgust plagues my mind; I am revolted at the sight of humans, but no humanity.


How? I ask myself. How can someone made with so much love and emotion be able to stand right in front of a beaten boy and not help, yet stand with a gargantuan camera capturing the horrifying events unfold? How can someone’s heart not lurch at the sight of an acquitted youth bruised to death? How can someone not be human?

Lahore; the place I used to call my home. The place I grew up in, the place I knew inside out, the place I loved…disgusts me now. The atrocity I witnessed that day, on the news, changed my outlook on my home forever. My country, my people now disgust me; those heartless brutes that I once thought were my own, I now fear. I fear for the lack of humanity within them.


The author's comments:

Based on a true story about an incident in Lahore that was all over the news


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