T’is the land where dreams are made,

A reason enough to bring on my brigade.

A baby on board and a long haul flight,

The luggage, by no means light.

We called the Empire State our home,

I for once, quit on my career and chrome.

This is heaven on Earth, I believed,

Missing my family was the only thing I grieved.

A decade of living in the land of dreams,

My reasons have all but lost it's steam.

What are we to say of the matter,

If all that’s around is nothing but clutter.

People are but just colors - black, white, and brown,

“I can’t breathe” humanity murmured with a frown.

Over two hundred school shootings in a decade,

Still ‘nada’ on giving gun laws a parade.

‘Active shooter’ drills at schools are in order,

Metal detectors and armed security on charter.

The bravery of the class teacher might decide,

The safe exit of my child if luck downslide.

Ail we shall until a cure is found,

Because the wound is deep and profound.

Fear is what gets many a guns drawn,

Lives lost, clearly no brain behind the fake brawn.

Open your heart, be it red or blue,

For our progeny looks up at you.

Think of this country as your own family,

Then maybe you can spot the anomaly.

The land that welcomed one and all,

Did not differentiate on hues, if history I recall.

Scream for equality and rights, I will,

For no voice seeking justice be deemed too shrill.

“ITS A FARCE! The Government is stealing this country from us. They are desegregating our schools. We SHALL fight for our rights”, screamed John from the top of the make-shift stage, his sharp white hood surprisingly intact even in the strong winds that blew that night. “They want to take the guns away from us? HOW. DARE. THEY!!” He gave a few calculated pauses to create an impact. “We start tomorrow to Atlanta to join Fighters of the Plux Klan. More people more power”. Seething hatred towards colored people among other things united the 50 odd Plux Klan members as they lit the cross while posing for pictures in their white hoods and robes that night.

The Klan flocked together the next morning ready to set out to fight for what they believed in, white supremacy. “Go die! Jesus Christ only like whites”, growled Cindy holding up a sign that read “Race Mixing is communism”. When their purpose was unified even burning the cross felt ok since their intentions behind were good. Intimidation is key in this fight. Bob and his friends thought burning Swastika was a good start for today’s march. They kept it in front of a Jewish neighbor’s home. “This will scare the wits out of them $#@$$”, They screamed profanities as they marched down. Somehow behind the robe, life seemed different to them. Anything is possible and the fear in the faces of those colored people who saw them…. priceless.

The marchers continued the rest of the journey on a truck, all fifty of them rested until they march again in Atlanta. Close to their destination, they paused at the entrance of a peculiar-looking cafe. All of them were tired and longed for a warm cup of coffee. They entered the elaborate entrance and a short drive on a rather straight path led to an empty cafe counter under open skies. John turned back to take another headcount. That’s when he noticed the oddity at a distance, “ Why the hell is that exit looking like a shutter now? What the….” Before he could complete the sentence, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. It was a guy in a green military uniform carrying two guns along with more behind, dressed similarly, “zip it..shushhhh”, he commanded. When John tried to interrupt, he fired a few rounds towards the sky. John reached for his gun strapped to his boot. Alas! There was no gun!

“You don’t try to play smart”, said the man in military green turning towards him, his guns still smoking. He swayed them side to side, his finger ominously pressing halfway down on the triggers. For the first time, the army of white supremacists felt intimidated at the hands of someone else. Ironically so, in a land, they called their own, one from where they have been trying to drive out a few others.

“This must be a mistake”, said Cindy gathering all the courage she had.

“Who’s that sweet voice there?”, asked the man with the guns, with a wicked grin on his face as he scanned the crowd.

“It's me sir”, said Cindy. Her husband briefly tried to hold her back but to no avail.

“Tch…tch..tch… come here will you?”, said the man making a cat-like face turning back to his mates giving a sly grin, and passing one of his guns.

“How many women do you have here?” He suddenly commanded loud. Two more hands went up. He commanded them to move to his right.

“Now take that bucket off your #$@@**** heads and hold it out for me will ye, I’ll take a piss in it…shall I?”, he said laughing menacingly.

“You guys shall be working for Jo Bros company from today. Do you hear me? I was told there are 50 of you. I paid dollars for you idiots. You guys did not come cheap and we didn’t know you had three women with you. The women shall stay with us while you shall go to the farm to work from NOW... MOVE.”

As everyone stood in disbelief at all the events that were unfolding, Pete’s cries rung out loud as someone in the green army lashed a red hot iron rod at him mercilessly, without any warning whatsoever. The others cowered and obliged walking in the direction they were asked to.

“Take that white robe and those buckets off of your heads you silly-looking idiots. Walk or else I will put you at the end of this rod and push you into the fire pit.”, said the man who attacked Pete at the top of his voice. Anyone would have believed him owing to the fierce look on his face. His eyes were red with anger and his expression filled with disdain for the crowd.

“John, see my Mom always told me it's not right that we burn the cross. I told you bad luck will befall us all.”, echoed a voice from the crowd as John walked towards the direction of the fields still unable to process the sudden onset of events.

Cindy’s eyes welled up as she watched her flock move on. She had always viewed every member of the Klan as fearless but today she saw them kneeling down like cowards in the face of terror. When they terrorized the colored people it was fun to watch fear on their faces but to be on the receiving side is unimaginable.

“Look down you witch”, a man’s voice said hitting her head with something hard. “You look up only when ordered. Dare you forget.” Straining her eyes to the top corners of its sockets, she watched as her high school sweetheart and now husband disappeared around the corner without even turning once in her direction. Someone pulled her head up by her hair and chopped her ponytail off and whispered cruelly into her ears, “My boss doesn’t like women with long hair”. He threw her cut hair down and trampled it under his feet and then kicked it back on her face. Cindy shook in fear as tears flowed, taking down some dirt as tears streamed down her cheeks. There were pieces of her own hair stuck all over her face. Briefly, she contemplated running but figured what looked like the entrance before, was now completely shut and the place was now filled with men in green, all armed. Someone brought a rope and the men wound it around the women’s feet and left all three of them tied around a tree. Cindy and the two women felt helpless. But then, they weren’t the helpless women these crooks in green perceived them to be. She looked down at her feet and wriggled her toes in her boots to make sure that the sole still concealed the dagger.

The men were walked to the entrance of what seemed like a prison with a small door wide enough to let only one man pass at a time. One couldn’t understand immediately why a farm would need a prison-like this especially since the place was guarded by heavily armed men.

“Ha, the Africans are here! You dirty fellas!” Boomed a voice that emanated from a tall brown-colored man. His skin had a burnt brown color to it, possibly from overexposure to Sun rather than being born like that.

“Hey hey Sir you have made a mistake”, John finally found his voice. “We aren’t Africans. Look at our skin. We are white. Africans are black.”

The brown man seemed snarled a little and with heavy gaits, he approached the forty-seven quaking in their boots. Their white hoods and gowns are gone and devoid of guns they were just forty-seven helpless men.

“Show me your skin. What's with the color? They sold y’all to us saying you are Africans.”. His voice was unbearably resounding in John’s ears, now that he was closer.

“Here see this” John said extending his hand. Suddenly metal clanged as the man drew a dagger from somewhere, almost in a flash, and skinned John along the wrist area. While John writhed in pain, the man unaffected by his screams held up his skin and walked into the gate booming, “We have been tricked!”

Kyle the leader of the green soldiers emerged followed by the big brown man. John immediately recognized him from the national summit the Klan convened a decade back.

“Kyle, it's you? What is happening, Kyle? We are the Plux Klan. I know from our last summit. What is all this? That brown burnt ass skinned me alive Kyle”, John’s anger stemming from the pain on his hands seemed to make him fearless momentarily. Kyle didn’t speak and just stared at John. Then he slowly came forward and took John’s hand as if to shake hands, instead he twisted it in an expert move and wrapping his hand around John’s neck, pulled him closer to his chest. John could barely breathe now partly from shock and partly from the pain in his hands. Kyle whispered into John’s ears in a hoarse voice, “ I don’t know you.” With an audible crack, Kyle twisted John’s neck. None of John’s faithful forty-six dare move from their spots. Who knew valor was circumstantial for the Plux Klan.

(#Deleted writing prompt - Prose retracted this prompt but I had already worked on this, so thought of submitting anyway... had fun attempting a genre I never have before)

Good memories give hope for a better tomorrow, and the quest for more keeps one going even through tough times. I might not wish to recreate or replicate these memories necessarily but reminisce them fondly, reliving the joy it gave my heart once. Some I may be able to put in words, and a few others I may fall short. 

Fresh in my memory, almost as clear as the blue sky and the Sun shining above as I write this, is the sight of the milky way on a pitch dark July night’s desert sky, as seen a couple of years back. That night had a profound impact on my little family, so much so that my then eight-year-old celebrated her next birthday around the theme of the milky way, accompanied merrily by all the gregarious planets. She also encouraged her friends to bring donations for a chosen organization and not gifts for herself as her perspective on life was forever changed. My two-year-old was only beginning to learn the art of speaking still managed to recite the names of the aerial objects he saw in the night sky after that night. My husband and I often close our eyes and steer our minds to that corner of our brain where we have etched a clear picture of that night. Our hearts fill with joy as we breathe in the smell of the desert air, perhaps for a second before our memories fade again.

We may or may not be back at Joshua Tree National Park in California again, but I can tell you this place and that trip will forever hold a special place in our hearts. There is a stretch of road from the exit of the park whose out-lines fade into the horizon. I have a photo of myself sitting in the middle of that road, which also is my favorite vacation snap ever. Just over two hours away from here is the L. A city and its famed Hollywood sign but ironically, the star-lit night sky outshined all those for me. No glitz and glamor nor buildings made of brick and stone gave me as much joy as that stretch of pristine desert land and the sights my heart shall yearn, albeit forever. 

“Non te conturbent”, is Latin for ‘do not be scared’. Those were the words I woke up to, in the middle of that cold November night. I had just finished watching a particularly frightening episode of a popular series on Netflix and I confess I am not good at processing horror. The weird blue light coming through the only window in my bedroom did not help either. Determined to control my thumping heart that momentarily threatened to send my freak-o-meter into overdrive, I took a deep breath. “There is no lady with a broken neck”, I murmured reminiscing a scene from the series, as I turned to my right, facing away from the lit window.

That’s when I noticed a depression on my mattress at the far right, as if someone’s weight was pressing down on it. “Ah it must be the springs!”, I said aloud partially hoping that my voice will scare the springs back to life. As I stretched my left hand to rub the top of the sunken side of the bed covered with bright accents from my designer blanket, I immediately withdrew. I could see the silhouette of his body, appearing to get more visible with every passing second. He had a dark colored coat on and as he turned towards me, I noticed the enormous mustache that adorned his face. He had sharp features and a receding hairline. His face looked intense, as if he had something very important to say. A strange calm flowing through my body, I slowly sat up.

“Do not be scared to tell the world your deepest darkest secret”, said the shadowy figure in a language that sounded like Greek or Latin to me. Somehow his words made sense, rather magically, as if the sound waves were translated into English, in thin air.

“What? Are you talking to me? Who are you?”, I asked.

“I am Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, the coward philosopher who failed his love”, said the apparition.

“What? You were on the notice board in my history classroom. Aren’t you dead?”, I asked stupidly.

“I know you don’t believe in God, Sam but Ubermensch my friend! You have power over yourself and your actions. How long will you be silent?”, asked the almost invisible intruder.

“Friedrich, you never believed in Christ, did you? My family does and I am afraid of the consequences revealing my secret will have on them.”, I replied looking away momentarily.

“I repent for a few things. The last ten years of my life were spent in confinement within four walls, before I passed into this parallel universe. Unfinished business does no one good”, said the ghost of Friedrich with his head hanging low.

I wondered how he knew about my closely guarded secret. However I could never bring myself to ask that question. It was left hanging somewhere between my throat and lips.

“What do you repent for? Were you like me?”, I asked assuming he knew my secret.

“I was Sam, and I kept it away from everyone including the one I loved. Happiness is a consequence of the effort you put in to overcome life’s hurdles to fulfill your will. Lack of which can drive anyone crazy, as it did me”, said the almost invisible man who was now uttering words that pierced my heart’s strings.

“I…errr…. I ….”, I failed to utter anything coherent.

“Say it to the world Sam… say it to relieve your heart.. cross that hurdle.. JUST SAY IT!”, he screamed.

“I AM GAY!”, I shouted. I woke up to see my roommate Roland staring down my face.

Apparently I scared the wits out of him.

“Are you alright? What did you say?”, asked Roland.

I cried and nodded my head in agreement trying to wrap around the fact that my biggest secret has escaped my lips. Roland took a few steps back and looked like he was still processing what he heard. Till now, I was perceived as an uptight gentleman who somehow magically got around girls. In fact, I was a confidante to every good looking girl in college and the boys never understood how I did it.

The adrenaline rush jolted me awake. The right corner of my mattress indeed looked like someone had sat there too long. The translated work of Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche lay on the side table next to my bed along with my glasses perched awkwardly on it. So it was a dream inside a dream, like a double rainbow; rare, like Friedrich himself.

I could hear hushed voices around me and remember feeling excruciating pain on every inch of my body. My lungs almost exploded inside my chest and I remember letting out a cry, or maybe a whimper that escaped my parched lips. My eyelids felt heavy and as if they were glued shut, the darkness scared me. When I opened them, the light pierced through and all I saw was white. The touch jolted me in an instant and a voice that said “Rose”, sent me into momentary panic and disarray. “Welcome back!”, said the calm voice and I remember the owner of that voice gently placing a pair of shades on me to help me with the bright light. I could focus better. The lady said she was a doctor. Never seen a female doctor in my life time.

The UFOs over D.C. was the last crazy thing I heard before I signed the documents agreeing to be cryogenically frozen. The fact that I am in 2019 is next! A bad marriage and need for funds drove me to this sacrifice in the name of science. The program was not approved then by the US Government and it wasn’t until 1962, or so I hear from my doctors. They don’t even have me on record as the first person frozen! No family, meant my body remained abandoned here in the facility owing to legal troubles and poor management. I don’t know what pained more in the days that followed, my body or my mind. I wasn’t briefed on anything, just let go after a week of physical rehabilitation. They told me they do not have funding for covering further medical expenses and I was asked to leave.

The reception area looked different from when I walked in here the first time. I saw computers and laptops being used by my doctors and was amazed by those and they seem to have one of those at the reception too. Then there are other things like the hairstyles and attire. They all looked so different and interesting. I think I might have stared at the receptionist too long as she looked irritated. “Door is that way”, she said curtly. I opened the glass door and stepped out. I closed it again and stepped back and looked nervously at the receptionist. The look on her face made me reach for the door again.

The overcast skies made it a dull day outside and better on my eyes. There were people of every color, some in coats, some in shorts thronging the streets of New York City that day. So many women were out and about, looking important. Men and women in all different shades. Change is good, or so I thought.

A smartly dressed man caught my eye. He seemed to be in conversation with nobody. He looked at me and said something staring at me top to toe. I smiled and wanted to tell him how crazy I was feeling. He pushed me away and pointed at a white object on his ear. I was a little hurt and blinded by it maybe that I didn’t see where I was headed. The honk of the car whose headlights stopped inches from my thighs, gave my until recently frozen heart a fright, that it almost popped out of my throat. Growing up I adored cars and seeing one so gleamy I was lost for a bit I think, when another horn made me double up. The driver seemed agitated as I tried to tell him why I was amazed at how his car looked. He shouted some profanities I haven’t heard before. I crossed the road fast and turned back to look at the building I have occupied for these past sixty-six years. It was very different from what I remember it to be. The old name board has been replaced by giant TV screens. The last time I saw a screen that big was in a movie theater. They were all in color, I remembered back in the day they were so rare.

I stopped a young man and asked him what the rectangular thing in his hand was that he was scratching on and he gave me the weirdest look and said that’s his phone. Before I was frozen, rotary phones were a thing. They seem to have found a way to make it work without a chord! I didn’t quite get how scratching at it worked though.

The clouds broke apart, thunder rung out. Rain! I sang my favorite song “Singin’ in the rain”, also was the last movie I saw before deciding to be frozen. I was feeling proud that I memorized the song , so I flapped my hands out and tried to take a few steps from the song. A little girl smiled at me as I waved at her. She was sweet and her Mom smiled at my dancing. I felt happy and so I danced even more. I twirled like the ballet dancers in the Rockettes company all while singing loud, disregarding the pain in my knees. I didn’t see the man with the coffee cup. I spilled it all over him and he was angered. “Mad woman!”, He screamed. I tried giving him the cup but he didn’t care. The cup said Starbucks and the shape of the cup was nothing like I have ever seen before. It smelled of vanilla bean and it made me hungry. I could read “Starbucks” on a screen not far away. There was a huge line of people standing outside the shop unfazed by rain, just like me and I wondered what they were waiting for. “So what do we get here at StAAAARbucks”, I asked the lady in front of me, smiling hoping to strike a conversation.

She answered without taking eyes off her phone, “Coffee, what else does everyone come here for!”.

“Is it that special?”, I enquired smiling while peeking to see the phone, for I wanted to know what was so interesting that everyone was looking at their’s so intently.

“It’s just easy”, said the lady moving away, blocking the screen from my view, without even looking at my face even once.

The TV on the wall spoke about some shooting at school and how the numbers are appalling this year. The lady asked looking at me finally, “What? You haven’t seen that? it's in the news these days, every other day for years.” I tried to tell her where I was coming from and how everything looked different to me. She must have thought I am crazy and looked away.

I wondered why no-one was interested in holding a conversation with a stranger anymore, or is it that I have become one to the world now? Maybe change isn’t so good after all.

I realized standing there that all I had now was money and myself. A listening ear was not something I could buy. The frost bitten, shriveled skin on my hands and face were giving way to new healthy skin. Heal I shall from inside-out. Maybe one day I shall write about my life and people shall read it off those screens they seem to like so much.

“I shall be heard, I promise”, said me, to myself.