See nothing, smell nothing
By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo
IN the comfort of the dining room, my imagination takes flight. I become the pilot I wanted to be, guided by the aroma of ground coffee beans. I look at the sky and become one with the stars, in communion with beings I haven’t seen, beings who see me, creatures who see without looking, elementals coexisting.
My part of the world is calm. For the moment, at least, until the smells of discontent brews reaches the sky. For the moment, we abstain from smelling the foul odor that pervades in other parts of the world, the stench of children dying.
For the moment, we suspend our sense of sight, our sense of smell. Let the rest of the world fight a losing battle to save lives. Never mind that the United Nations, the Church, religious groups, humanitarian groups and peace advocates are crying, “Ceasefire!”. There are clear benefits to abstention, like corruption. Greed, like fear, has a way of eating at faith.
The Philippines, an unquestioning ally of the most powerful nation on earth, abstained. Like a tamed dog, acting only, upon the signal of its owner, “Sit!” No redemption there, no humanity left, no sense of smell, a dog’s exceptional gift. No sense of dog.
In war, countless lives get buried. Part of us get buried. And then, the true stories get buried by historical revisionism. We are burning and we don’t realize it. We are in hell, worse than the conditions imagined by the religious.
But that is just my own “opinion”. And Biden respects opinions, opinions that do not matter in the mathematics of war. When asked, “What are the chances of a Gaza ceasefire?”, Biden didn’t blink: “None. No possibility.”
A different sky
an airplane just crossed the sky
peacefully, like a dove
fleeting, like a delicate scent
that of the orange jasmine
opening
somewhere, airplanes rain
outbursts of white phosphorus
overpowering, scent of garlic
blinding, burning to the ground,
children
no one dared to look
not even vultures
who eat the dead
Others
They looked away
They smelled nothing
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