11/11 Remembrance Day

the sore throat stays. unfortunately. it is partly … mostly my fault since i ate too many chocolate baked goods these past few days but those home fries at caf was what did it. and i just got back from singing in the choir so… my voice is pretty much dead right now, but anyways~

despite the fact that i only realized i have an assignment, a test and a paper due this week and the beginning of next week, i feel like procrastinating a bit and see how long this ‘relaxation period’ goes. but i’m going to talk about Remembrance Day, which is fitting since today is Remembrance day.

i’m not Canadian and i didn’t know that this day even existed (might as well be honest with you here). but i love poppy flowers and because of that, i noticed how people started wearing poppy flower pins on their coats at the end of October – beginning of November. i googled it up and found that those are symbols of Remembrance day. the story goes that when the soldiers were mass buried, poppy flowers grew on the soil that covers the mass tomb, which is why they are, sort of the ‘icon’ of this day… (i don’t know much about any of this, so correct me if i’m wrong). but for sure Remembrance day is today, on the 11th of November. 11:11.

being Indonesian, i have no relatives who died trying to protect Canada, but i realized in mass just now how these feelings run so deep that they transcend even race, and bodies and minds. i don’t know anyone whose grandfather died trying to protect Canada, but the essence of just losing someone we love, especially in a war, must be utterly devastating.

i think it’s sad for people to die in the hands of other people… for humans to die in the hands of other humans, but apparently that has been the case all along. because personally for me, it’s such a shame for people to think that they’re superior to others. because at the end of the day, there is never any distinct reason why there should be a separation between people of different race, or people of different status of the same race, or people of different acquaintances with the same status of the same race.

it is numbing for my imaginations to conjure up images of people marching knowing they would die. and of the little things they did in the last minutes of their life. the last people they talked to, the last people they genuinely hugged, the last region whose air they breathe… and like so many other people, we are shaped by these wars. they become history that, even though is in the past, people can’t completely shake off. i might be the great great granddaughter of a soldier who fought and died for his country. or i can be the great great granddaughter of a traitor who escaped the wrath of two countries that are at war with each other. or i can be the great granddaughter of a bastard who is the son of a soldier and a prostitute. maybe these things that happened in the past doesn’t necessarily shape our outward identity, but it comes into direct contact with our very existence, and that sometimes really troubles me.

and this is where everything gets so complicated. because i feel like the lives of other people who have lived before me has everything to do with my very own existence. inevitably, we rotate around people in this world, in an orbit that is not always exact… and it is good to remember that a fractured skull can always heal, but the scar will always, always stay. i wish that the souls of those who have passed defending their countries may rest in peace (and also to all those other souls who have passed in general), regardless of whether or not their death is justified or unjustified.


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