"Powered By Ideas, Ideals & Idealism"… A Blog By Prerna Jain !!
When I die, I want to die knowing that I was the best person I could possibly be. That I reached out. That I did what I could. That with the hands I have and my time here, that I breathed life into those that could not breathe for themselves.
There is so much suffering in the world. I see it everyday. I hold it in my hands when I rescue the torture cases that I do. I pull it close to my chest when I save dogs who are broken and abused.
And I do not get it. Why there is so much hate in the world. Why whole wars are waged over beliefs and religion. Why people bomb and hold mass killings.
As a people and as a race, I wonder how evolution has not reached certain parts of humanity. I wonder how people are bound by a culture that has only collected dust, like how a book would left upon a shelf.
I wonder how as we learn and as we become more sensitive creatures, how cruelty is still so existent throughout the world.
In the Tongzhou province of China yesterday, I ventured into a slaughterhouse run by a small community. There were dogs, cats, rabbits, and fear that perspirated off the walls with such intensity, that fear itself looked too afraid to face death and die there alone.
When my soul pierced into this dark hole, my heart bled through my eyes crumbling to the soil beneath me. I cannot even put into words what I saw. I cannot even use the ink in my pen to paint upon the ground. To describe what it is like seeing living creatures chained to tables with their organs exposed. Screaming. Some without feet. Some with no eyes.
Still alive… screaming.
I asked, why not kill them first. He said its culture, and that they have been doing it the same way for years.
Slavery used to be culture. Lynchings, hangings – culture. But as we learned, as the human heart grew in size and grander, history became the past. History became a bridge that taught us not what to do, but how to do better.
I told this man, the greatest thing in the world, it is not found in death. It is found in breathing life into others. There is only blood in death. Only destruction. No love. No hope. Only nothingness.
His face was a blank stare. My gift a poem to eyes that could not comprehend, or maybe did not care.
I rescued all the dogs I could and whom ever was strong enough to survive transport. Saved three cats, and released a pair of the rabbits down side by a river. The tortured that died there, I pressed my lips to their skin and shed tears with the hope that in the darkness – they knew they were not alone.
The greatest gift in life, it is not death – it is breathing life into those that cannot breathe for themselves. In all my weakness. In all my failures as a man. In all my wishing that who I am was stronger. At least I understand and know this one thing…
The greatest gift in life is giving.
My heart is dedicated to those around me. And if I learned anything from my journey back into that dark night – it is to try to be the best human being I can possibly be. We should all breathe into those around us, because that’s all it takes to change things. One breath.