Revolution: Day by Day [Part I]

Day 1

Imagine if you got a call at 11.30am and realized that you had to leave your home or face imminent death at the hands of a mob that was turning violent? Imagine, if you can, the fear as you packed your family and your life. Would you lock the door to your house? What would you take with you? Imagine getting in your car, the looks on your childrens' faces –daughter 8 and son 4– in the rearview mirror and the way they will look to you for direction and answers. What would you say to them? Where would you go?

You drive to the outskirts of the city with the hordes of people. As you circle with other confused and shocked people you exchange stories, news and rumours of what is happening. Over the next several hours, more and more people pour in tipping the scales away from any hope of return. The sound of gunfire and shelling and the sight of smoke in the general direction of where you lived paint the landscape.

In less than half a day you went from being a talented and skilled employee of a notable technology outfit to a faceless refugee in the international media.

It's only 8pm,Under this sky, you now have to sleep.

Day 2

The morning starts at sunrise. The evolution has turned back to when the day was measured by the height of the sun and not the quarter inch markers on our watches. You have not cellphones that work, no internet connectivity and your children need breakfast. The words "potable drinking water" become significant as your job, your qualification and your salary become meaningless. As you wonder what to do next, the news, rumors and continue to stream in, the number of people continue to grow. More and more people are coming with more and things that you should have packed. Just as you ponder the could-have and should-have you hear the news: unrest within your makeshift camp. Someone got robbed, another is looking for their 7-year old, someone is in need of medical care. 30 years of your hardwork and social progress has come to this.

You leave your family behind wishing you had more male members –how quickly you turn into a sexist realizing that women need a mans’ protection- repeatedly instructing your frightened and dirty children not to wander too far away from their mother. You head back towards your home. You expect deserted streets, but they are littered with looters. The very people who held doors open for you, the invisible and insignificant souls, are now armed and on a looting spree. You recognize a driver, a servant, a maid and a peon and realize how much the hierarchies of the social order have turned: today they have more command and control than you did. You try to ignore the screams –some of them by women and others by children– and press on as you must provide for your family first.

What seems like a day is just several hours. You duck fires and looters and people who need help and make your way home. Thankfully, our home in untouched. What do you take with you? A radio? But you stopped buying those years ago. You pack food, blankets and water. You notice a few toys for the children and you pick them up. As you make your way to your car, you hear a loud rumbling sound followed by a loud explosion that rocks you where you stand. You throw what you can inside your car and drive away forgetting to lock your house, forgetting to fasten your seatbelt. As you zoom away you can hear the dim sound of people charging, storming and breaking glass. You again avoid and duck through making your way back to the encampment. While you aged a lifetime, but you only spent a dozen hours –far less time than you spend at work during crunch time.

At the camp, your family moved from their original location, but you find them anyway. Your wife has made some friends and you realize that you forgot some essential items –medicine, clothes and money. You also have a list of items but that list is very different than your wife’s list. On it you have a weapon, gasoline and a lantern.

You stand guard over your family doing your best to avoid answering the questions your children keep asking you. Can you see the fear in their eyes? The questions?