I prayed.


I gave.


I tried.


I cried.’

She scribbled the words down in a fit of apathy. Not sleeping, not eating, not sure if she was feeling much anymore. The only motion she could muster was this fluttering of blue ink.

The pen left her finger tips and rolled down the side of her bed.

The moment was coming and it had all seemed in vain.

84 years… it felt like it had only been 23.

Cheated by her own breath, she began her return to the place from which she came.

The Daily Post Writing Challenge: Digging for Roots



I was never very good at following instructions… it’s not a still image, but this is where the Daily Post photography prompt of “Angular” took me at some crazy jet-lagged hour of this morning.

The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge

Music: Sukhavati by Desert Dwellers

Police brutality is more than a single rotten apple spoiling the barrel

The shock of seeing police being violent suprised me when I first got involved in student politics.

I never knew of police brutality before then, which unfortunately speaks volumes of my racial identity.

After a protest where the police took off their name badges and identity numbers, I saw myself on the evening news frantically waving my finger at a riot clad police officer, telling him off for not wearing an ID badge.

It’s a big deal for me to ask a waitperson to bring some sugar to the table, so this was somewhat out of character.

It made me think.

The rage that started to pervade within me when I saw police being rough and violent with my friends and other protesters was huge. I was so angry.

What would it be like to be born into a world when you repeatedly see this happening from childhood?

That immense fury I felt over several incidences of unjust behaviour from police is a ridiculously pale comparison to the repeated experiences of police brutality and oppression felt across the world.

Especially deaths in custody and the killing of unarmed kids.

In my home state, a 22 year old woman, who was in prison for unpaid court fines, died whilst in custody. At the same time, a man safely walked away after his foot became stuck in between a city train and the platform.

Guess what got the most news coverage?

Guess who was white?

It’s not just a rough personality or mentally unstable individual within the police force that results in repeated situations of police brutality within specific communities. It is systemic.

Since it is systemic,  the whole of society needs to take responsibility for police brutality.

Aamer was one of the students I stood beside at many student protests and I think he clearly sums up the concept of systemic oppression and the pervasive nature of ignorance, which is most definitely linked to the ugly beast of police brutality.

It’s never just one rotten apple that spoils the barrel. The barrel itself needs to be examined.

Dungeon Prompts:

Concepts of God: What are Yours?

I came across Sreejit’s blog whilst searching for Amma online and loved it so much that it inspired me to take the plunge and venture into the blogging world… The jury is out about how I feel sending my thoughts and feelings out to the yonder (they have a hard enough time swimming in my head!), but, reading the Dungeon Prompts, I feel like a little kid desperately wanting to join in a fun game, so here we go!

Concepts of God: What are Yours?

In 2005, my dad had a massive stroke following a trip to the Chiropractor, which left him paralysed and brain damaged, but fortunately still alive.

Thanks to the phenomenom of neuroplasticity, the area of his brain responsible for ‘dad jokes’ seemed to thrive, but a massive amount of damage was done to the right side of his brain, since the clot came from a rupture of his carotid artery, and consequently the left half of his body was almost completely paralysed.

As common with a brain injury, my family entered a whole new world of depression and colourful verbal profanities…. And worse ‘dad jokes.’

It had been a pretty intense time, particularly because my Dad’s identity, and my Mum’s for that matter, was totally defined by his engagement in sport and doing whacky physical things like running marathons. He was known as the strong, reliable, polite, hard working and healthy man.

In an instant, everything changed.

There was a lot of pressure and stress in the air and, being the responsible daughter that I am, I took off to Asia towards the end of his six months or so in a neurological rehabilitation hospital.

A few kind of cool spiritual things happened in this period of time, often whilst I simultaneously witnessed some horrible things.

In the weeks before writing what’s written below, I’d had a bad experience volunteering at an orphanage and quit my volunteer role, I saw a person die on the roads and I had frantically argued with a fellow hotel guest in Phnom Penh who was taking a tiny three year old girl, dressed up in a pretty pink party dress, off the streets and into his hotel room.

After futile attempts to do something, I went to Angkor Wat in Cambodia and I did nothing.

The old temples and their overgrown foliage generously gave me respite from my angry and frustrated response to the suffering that seemed to be so abundant in the world.

This was written after being driven out of those temples at sunset in the back of a tuk tuk, seeing the beauty of everything that was struck by the sun’s warm glow. I think it describes my concept of God.


Photo: G. Allison
Photo: G. Allison

21st Nov 2005

Seeing God is like looking at a sunset.

The beauty comes not from looking at the sun itself, but from looking at the things that the light touches.

In fact, our eyes can’t look at the sun directly. It hurts and we are blinded by doing so.

But the beauty that transpires when a beam of sunshine hits a tree, a face or a cloud as dusk crawls through the sky is amazing.

We see the sun set everyday. We look to the sky as evening approaches.

At different times and places it is more beautiful than others, but there is always a beauty there if you take the time to look for it, even when the sun is hidden by dark rain clouds.

We see God in everything that this light touches.

We see God when we let this light be the love we share with another person, animal, plant or tree.

We see the wonder of it when we project love onto others and in return- see God within ourselves, as we are all really one.

It sounds very lovey-dovey, but it is so true.

There is that space for us to jump across that allows us to see incredible beauty and experience a tremendous peace.

Taking the leap is the hard bit.

After that- if you do it properly- it all becomes so clear and so easy.

You learn when you are ready. You see what you are prepared to see.

To do more than this may scold your soul like the sun scolds your eyes if you don’t focus on the beauty it inspires around and within you… if you are continuously missing the real beauty of a sunset by only trying to look directly at the sun.

Photo: alidarbac on
Photo: alidarbac on


I am learning how to blog…



I’m painting a blog… it’s kinesthetically a new experience.


I know that reading the 'Help' page is like getting on an express bus to the airport, but I really like to take my time and enjoy the scenery. You miss so much when you travel too fast.
I know that reading the ‘Help’ page is like getting on an express bus to the airport, but I really like to take my time and enjoy the scenery. You miss so much when you travel too fast. But you miss the plane when you travel too slowly!


Despite myself, I finally went to the ‘Help’ pages… hence I’m getting a little more Blog literate.


And feeling less like I have just slept through the past fifteen years.