There is not a moment where I am truly at ease. An innocent knock on the door in the middle of the day can create a crippling sense of dread. Is it just the postman? Or is it death come knocking? At night, it is even worse. What darkness lies at the end of the dim hall when I wake to relieve myself when all else is quiet?
Is there an easy answer to this question? Primarily I think I speak and write in English because it has been necessary for my survival. Most people from the Maldives are bilingual because of this reason. Our language, Dhivehi, is only spoken by us. And of us there are not many.
The world has changed so much in the past few decades. The sheer amount of information we have accessible at our fingertips is sometimes hard to comprehend. If you are a person who has the privilege of internet access, the only excuse you have for your ignorance is yourself.
All the while the rushing would intensify as if heading towards some grim crescendo. As this feeling grew and I drowned in feelings of utter helplessness, so did a growing panic that something... bad.... was about to happen. This jinni, this being, was going to take my life - or worse - take my sanity and run screaming with it all the way to hell.
A project to map and document the sights and sounds from the various lovely benches around Tasmania.