Tears of Resignation

The image of a young Afghani girl says more about the plight of the common Afghani people than all the words in the world could ever convey, but I was moved to write on it nonetheless…

A young Afghani girl, no more than fourteen, crouching, knees enveloping her chest, sinking into herself, small, holds her head shawl across her lips, showing us only her eyes. No discernable pupil, just polished black shiny marbles in a delicate sea of milk. The eyes are all she has left, unblinking, detached, unaware of the pain they project. A tear forms, but it does not reach the corner of her eye, it simply rolls lazily from the center of her eyelid onto a disinterested cheek. There are no cries for no-one listens. A shield of silence magnifies the weight of her heart, making it too large for our grasp, drawing us into its emptiness. What sadness must exist where a tear cannot be bothered to follow the path it has known for all of time, and just drops languidly by the path of least resistance.


This piece of prose became the basis for a longer essay,"Day-old Bread with a Splatter of Innards" .