This is the essay for my Yale supplement. I will add it to my Harvard supplement as well. Please read through and tell me what you think. Please tell me if something is wrong or if it could be improved with better words or phrases. Thanks!
I live in Sri Lanka; a country which used to be driven by war. A country where you didn't know when you'll get blown to bits while innocently traveling to school by bus in the morning. My home, though, was situated in a safe place, where nothing dangerous ever happened. But the place my mother came from was different. It was a place where death was a part of everyday life. And I would soon experience it myself.
With my mom, I had to travel to Jaffna. Jaffna was the hub of the war. It was the place the terrorists called home. It was where all the attacks were concentrated. We had to get some documents from the council in my mother's birthplace, or she wouldn't be allowed to stay at our current home. We arrived and found that we had to stay for three days to get the needful done. It felt like time was flowing much slower in Jaffna. It definitely was.
It was the second day and we were having lunch. The pain and suffering the people of Jaffna were going through was clearly represented by the food they ate. Just as I lay down the spoon after having taken another mouthful of rice, we heard an intensely vociferous bang outside. It sounded dangerously close. There was screaming. I couldn't determine whether the screaming was due to agony or despair. For a moment we sat there. Petrified. The screaming had ceased. We went over to the window to see what had happened outside. Calling the sight horrendous would be a huge understatement. The cracked road and the grass beside it were sprayed red and had pink chunks of dead life littered across. We were safe from the blast, but the sickening sight was too overwhelming to feel anything other than despair and abhorrence.
This happened two years ago, but I can still see it clearly. I can still remember the way my eyes scanned the scene - from the bottom left of my vision to the top right. The two women who stood there, dumbfounded and oblivious, after narrowly escaping the blast. The detached head that was looking straight up at God with vehement resentment. The many severed limbs, of which one seemed to be moving. The macabre emanation that could be seen as well as smelled. I can still see it all. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget any of this. I wouldn't want to.
Having retrieved the necessary documents, we left for good the next day.
This rather disturbing experience has left me with something a lot of people lack today: the appreciation for life. People aren't grateful for what they have been offered. People kill themselves due to problems that can easily be overcome. Kids call themselves 'emo' and cut themselves intermittently in order to maintain that qualification. While there are people struggling to stay alive, losing lives due to the very reason of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, there are others who simply give it away. I have learned to appreciate and accept everyone around me, regardless of ethnicity, place of birth or skin color. I hope to pass this message on to as many people as possible.
I live in Sri Lanka; a country which used to be driven by war. A country where you didn't know when you'll get blown to bits while innocently traveling to school by bus in the morning. My home, though, was situated in a safe place, where nothing dangerous ever happened. But the place my mother came from was different. It was a place where death was a part of everyday life. And I would soon experience it myself.
With my mom, I had to travel to Jaffna. Jaffna was the hub of the war. It was the place the terrorists called home. It was where all the attacks were concentrated. We had to get some documents from the council in my mother's birthplace, or she wouldn't be allowed to stay at our current home. We arrived and found that we had to stay for three days to get the needful done. It felt like time was flowing much slower in Jaffna. It definitely was.
It was the second day and we were having lunch. The pain and suffering the people of Jaffna were going through was clearly represented by the food they ate. Just as I lay down the spoon after having taken another mouthful of rice, we heard an intensely vociferous bang outside. It sounded dangerously close. There was screaming. I couldn't determine whether the screaming was due to agony or despair. For a moment we sat there. Petrified. The screaming had ceased. We went over to the window to see what had happened outside. Calling the sight horrendous would be a huge understatement. The cracked road and the grass beside it were sprayed red and had pink chunks of dead life littered across. We were safe from the blast, but the sickening sight was too overwhelming to feel anything other than despair and abhorrence.
This happened two years ago, but I can still see it clearly. I can still remember the way my eyes scanned the scene - from the bottom left of my vision to the top right. The two women who stood there, dumbfounded and oblivious, after narrowly escaping the blast. The detached head that was looking straight up at God with vehement resentment. The many severed limbs, of which one seemed to be moving. The macabre emanation that could be seen as well as smelled. I can still see it all. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget any of this. I wouldn't want to.
Having retrieved the necessary documents, we left for good the next day.
This rather disturbing experience has left me with something a lot of people lack today: the appreciation for life. People aren't grateful for what they have been offered. People kill themselves due to problems that can easily be overcome. Kids call themselves 'emo' and cut themselves intermittently in order to maintain that qualification. While there are people struggling to stay alive, losing lives due to the very reason of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, there are others who simply give it away. I have learned to appreciate and accept everyone around me, regardless of ethnicity, place of birth or skin color. I hope to pass this message on to as many people as possible.