"This morning, a news story struck me deeply. A mother, driven to the unthinkable act of killing her three children to pursue a relationship with a former classmate, left me profoundly unsettled. It's precisely this kind of report that makes me retreat from the news, seeking solace only in the editorial section's familiar columns.
This incident dredged up a memory from my time in Jamalpur: another mother, also with three children, who murdered her husband. The method was chilling – poison followed by a railway rail laid across his throat, all orchestrated with her lover. I used to judge such acts with a harsh certainty. Now, I find myself judging the circumstances, the desperate, unfulfilled desires that might push someone to such extremes. I recall reading about lionesses, how postpartum depression can drive them to kill and consume their own cubs.
The sheer intensity of such mental strain is almost incomprehensible. What could possibly drive someone to such a point? While I can't justify these actions, I recognize that we all navigate periods of profound vulnerability.
Who among us welcomes rejection, persistent failure, debilitating illness, or crushing financial instability? We all yearn for happiness, yet it's not a universal experience. When life offers even a sliver of contentment, maintaining composure and gratitude is easier. But when life throws every conceivable hardship at once, the mind can fracture, leading to desperate, irrational actions.
In Japan, they have a practice called "Johatsu," meaning evaporation. People disappear from their lives, often due to financial ruin, personal failure, or social shame. The Japanese system, police generally doesn't pursue missing adults unless a crime is suspected. This concept of starting anew, of seeking a fresh beginning, stands in stark contrast to the tragic finality of the news I read. Why couldn't our systems, our very minds, offer such an escape, such a path to renewal, for everyone? Why must people die with their desires unfulfilled? Why can't everyone attain the dreams they dare to envision and work towards?
Sometimes, I find myself wishing that the very concept of unattainable dreams could be erased from our consciousness. What is the purpose of longing for something that will forever remain out of reach, a mirage? The realization of its impossibility is a crushing blow.
The disparity in life's fortunes – the inexplicable ease for some, the relentless hardship for others – remains a mystery. We are left to navigate these phases, both the joyful and the painful, seemingly without true agency. How, then, does one thrive in such a world, sustain joy, and cultivate excitement?"