Anarchy

The crowds bellowed, chanting a reverberating chant, stars dancing across the night sky; joyous, harmonious, and unified. The ruler decrees a notorious sentiment, a sentiment unacceptable to the land the people claim as their own. A superstar, a politician, a journalist, an academic, and a citizen unite till their last breath. Standing in solidarity against the despot whose tyranny claimed the life of many. The streets are laced with the blood of the fallen, the innocent, and the judged. Without trial, without repose. Violence rules over the miasma of the night, stunning even those that stood ignorant on the sidelines. The lurkers and the watchers, unaffected no longer. The time on peace ran out when the despot took the throne. Now, the crowds shout and scream, their fists in the air with chants of freedom. The freedom they deserve, the freedom that is their right.

Thousands across the land stand together, bound by the same cause; freedom. Once again, a fire is ignited in the hearts of many. Every person comes out to drag the despot himself on the stand. No one stands idle, no one watches from the margins of privilege. The veil is pulled away in the most scathing manner, leaving nothing but perforations in its wake. The portal opened and the demons stepped out, and the crowds shout. They shout for the land, they shout for the end of their suffering. The land that once was, no longer remains. Changes, a little in a name here, a little in a song there, destroy the fabric of what was once a most majestic part of the world. Tethered by the ropes of greed and arrogance, blinded by the glimmer of untouched, unchecked power, the land now stands as a mere shell of its former self. But, hope.

Hope, because the crowds gather. They continue to stand together in droves. Stadiums, parks, schools, and monuments reverberate with the sounds and shouts of freedom from oppression. Students do not hold back, parents do no hold back, and while the unsuspecting leader, the despot, sits in abandon surrounded by mirrors to celebrate his narcissism, the crowds gather to bring him to trial. A hammer and a nail. That is all it takes to break the mirror. The despot is brought back to his place on Earth that is our land. The crowds tearing apart his arrogance and his unaffected daze, his imperviousness and his thick skin. He falls.

Not a drop of blood is shed. No violent calls echo in the now mirror-less room. Only the crowds who stand, their heads high, palms together as if in prayer, and a ghost of a smile hinting at days to come. Days full of promise. Days full of hope.