The Motivation for the Holocaust

Rolf had avoided any events that reminded him of his past, but when he heard Selig Baar was speaking he had to go. Rolf saw it as an opportunity to let go of his past; the guilt he had been hiding for six decades. Selig Baar was speaking at a local museum after screening of the documentary The Motivation for the Holocaust. Rolf did not want to watch documentary. He was not keen on living his past again. He only wanted to ask a question to Selig.

Rolf went to the museum at 6. When he entered the small auditorium, an old man wearing rectangle glasses was walking lethargically to the front. Rolf recognized Selig walking to the front. Before Selig turned around, Rolf quickly slipped into a seat in the last row. The auditorium was small. Scanning the atmosphere, Rolf saw around 70 people in 100 seats. All the members of audience were in awe and unable to move. Holocaust had been mesmerizing people for years. It had the same effect on that day.

Between two rows of seats, a microphone was getting the most attention. Before Selig settled into his chair and took charge of his microphone, three people lined up to ask question. 

“Thank you all for joining us today and once again please welcome Selig Baar.” A female voice filled the auditorium. Rolf could not see her from his seat. He did not make any effort also, as Rolf was avoiding eye contact with Selig. “The word holocaust in the context of World War 2 was synonymous with gas chambers. However, as we saw today, there was much more to it. It started years before the world war. It was more than gas chambers, unethical taxation, segregation, racism, eviction, mass graves, murders, loot and many more words can be used to describe them. Selig Baar is here with us: one of the survivors of those terrible times. Please ask your questions.”

Rolf adjusted in his seat to have a look at Selig’s face. After six decades, the man was distant resemblance to his younger self. Selig’s saggy face, big bones, thin hairs were evident of the time passed. Selig was no longer the skinny blond boy Rolf remembered. 

“Do you hate Germans?” The first question was fired at Selig.

Selig laughed loudly. “This is one question I prepared answer for. I didn’t expect it to be the first one though. I am German. Can I hate myself?” Many members of the audience chuckled with Selig. “I understand your question. Holocaust was not a showdown between German and Jews. I believe except for Denmark and Finland, local authorities and structure participated in holocaust. France, Lithuania, Yugoslavia, you name it. Neighbors, friends, classmates, colleagues, employers, they all participated. On the other hand, Romas, some ethnic Polish leaders were also killed. I have never been anything else than German. How can I hate Germans?” Even though Rolf avoided the movie, he could not avoid the memories. He was shifting in his chair. He was uncomfortable. The discussion was already unbearable.

“Mr. Baar. Thank you for being here today. That was an inspiring movie. I loved the stories of survivors, because we all have heard horrible stories of deaths and killings. First time I saw so many stories of triumph over evil. Can you shed some light on your thoughts on this movie?” Second question was asked to Selig.

Selig coughed. “My thoughts. The movie you saw was the life we lived. This movie is about human interactions in the wake of the tragedy. Every person is driven by something. Greed, Compassion, Love, Hate, Jealousy. When greed, jealousy, hate took over a person they reported us to the authorities, participated in killings, robbed our belongings. When compassion, love, care won, they helped us. In the end, all those people survived because someone on the other side helped them at great risk. I remember one instance when a Nazi officer called an old Jew friend advising him to leave the city. This movie is beyond the holocaust itself. It speaks of human interaction in those difficult times. It highlights the complexity of those interactions.”

“What, in your opinion, did drive betrayal of friends? How could a neighbor turn a blind eye and commit such a horrific act?” Third question was asked. The microphone was solitary again as all three questioners took their seats. 

“One thing Nazis did right was segregation. They identified us and segregated us. After that, negative emotions were enough to drive the rest of the horror. How many of you can positively say that you have never been jealous of any of your neighbors? None.” Selig counted raised hands in the audience. Rolf was at the peak of uneasiness by then. He knew if he did not get up at that moment, he would lose his courage. Rolf got up to move towards the solitary microphone, but he kept a low profile and looked sideways. He did not want Selig’s attention. Selig continued, “But I realize you don’t kill them. The reason: They are integrated and part of the society. Similarly, many Jews were integrated into the society. They attended the same school, lived within the same community, played together. When Nazis segregated them, the integration was gone. The barrier vanished. There was no inhibition. People believed that Jews were non-significant. And if you discriminate or harm Jews, you had no repercussions. In fact, peer pressure ensured, in many cases, that you do not stand with the Jews. If you were jealous of a Jew, you had a reason and no inhibition. If you hate, you had a reason and no inhibition. If you were greedy, you had a reason and no inhibition. Many officers were simply doing their duty. If you teach a soldier in army to kill an enemy, he is not making any judgment as to who the enemy is or what are the crimes. He is simply following orders and doing his duties.” Selig stopped for a while. Rolf was between two rows of seats slowly walking towards the microphone. He had his hand on his forehead to avoid seeing eye to eye with Selig. After deep breath Selig continue, “In absence of an inhibition, every human fights a battle between negative and positive motivation. Many times whichever side wins, decided his action. However, all of us at times are simply incapable of fighting the battle and go with the flow. Nazis created a flow and many just followed. Nonetheless, not all was bad. You saw the movie. Many Jews survived. They survived through good fortune and kind and love of non-Jews.”

Rolf was at the microphone. He said, “What is your story?” Selig looked up. Rolf and Selig were looking into each other’s eyes after six decades. A light in Selig’s eyes assured Rolf that they both recognized each other.

Selig said, “You ask my story. I was betrayed, by a friend. My best friend for ten years told Nazis about us. They came after my family and me. We had to run. And then.” Selig paused for a moment. Rolf was not blinking. Selig continued looking at the blank face of Rolf, “My father had a shop in the village. His neighbor was a wealthy man. He had the biggest shop in the village. He took us and kept us in his basement for eight years. We hardly saw the daylight for eight years. But finally, we were able to start the new life. We were lucky than the most. We did not have to leave our village, though we lost everything we had, including our hope. How can I hate Germans? I was betrayed by one, I was saved by one and I am one.” Selig and Rolf were staring at each other by the time.

Gathering courage, Rolf followed up, “Do you hate your friend?”

Selig removed his glasses and wiped his face with his hands. He looked into Rolf’s eyes and said, “No Rolf. I do not hate you. How did you hate me?” Audience gasped.

“I did not,” Rolf cried. “I did not hate you. I was eleven years old. As you said, I had no inhibitions and negative feeling called fear won. You were always top of the class. You were always ahead of me in studies. I feared lagging behind. I saw it as an opportunity. I thought by complaining about you, you will be thrown out of school and I would be the best student. I never meant any harm to you. It was childish. I had been carrying this guilt for years. This is my chance to apologize. I could not change the history, but I could acknowledge my mistake.”

Selig stood up. “The reason my story was not part of that movie, because I could not muster the words, my friend betrayed me. I could only say it today because I was looking at you. It took us 6 decades, but we met.” Selig and Rolf walked towards each other and hugged. The audience applauded. They witnessed one more story of win from holocaust. 

P.S.: Above story is fictional, but it is inspired from a real exhibition at the National Holocaust museum in Washington, DC. The Holocaust has been symbolized by all the atroctities and brutalities, but “Some were neighbors” exhibition highlights human connections and dynamics during the holocaust. If you get a chance, please go and see it. Here is the website for the reference: http://somewereneighbors.ushmm.org/

My experiments in Mexico

Waking up in a foreign country with no plans for your day is exciting. Yes, I did that. I went to Mexico in December 2016, specifically to Yucatán peninsula. Sunday night I reached Cancun almost by midnight, as my flight was late. I did not know what I was going to do for next 8 days there, except I had four days in Cancun and four in Valladolid. At the end of those eight days, I wished I never came back from Mexico.

Monday, the first morning and the second day of the trip, I woke up with confidence of throwing my Spanish at everyone I would meet. My room was on fifth floor. I woke up late around 9 am and luckily, the breakfast hours were 7-11. I rode one of the three small elevators down to the ground floor. The elevator was small enough where presence of second person would make me feel intrusive. Reaching ground floor, I ate wonderful nachos, spicy fried potatoes in addition to regular continental breakfast. 

A Mexican lady stepped into elevator while I was going back to my room. I visualized a conversation in my head, ‘Hello. Good morning. Nice to meet you.’ I said, “Hola. Buenos Dias.” The lady smiled and said, “Buenos Dias. Como estas?” I smiled in my head, patted my back for successful initiation of Spanish conversation, and followed up, “Bien. Enchanté.” Smile was replaced with a shock on her face as if I just cursed her. My confidence went downhill. I received a second chance only an hour later in the same elevator, while I was on my way out. An old man greeted me, as I entered the elevator, “Buenos Dias.” I smiled and replied, “Buenos Dias. Enchanté.” The exact same reaction appeared on the old man’s face, shock!

How often you mess up and have no idea! I had no idea why people did not like my perfect Spanish. I took a taxi to Cancun bus station and took a bus to Tulum. While in Tulum, I bought a day pass to one of the resorts near the Tulum Ruins. In the resort, I boarded a speedboat with a large American family for snorkeling. I started talking to few of them. Then I heard a weird conversation. A lady in the family started talking to the driver of the boat in the middle of the ocean before going for snorkeling. She said, “Hola. Como estas?”. The driver replied, “Bien.” The lady asked, “Como te llamas?” The driver replied, “Paco.” Against all odds the lady said, “Enchanté.” I laughed and thought, ‘Look at that lady, mixing up her languages!’ Oops! I did the same in the morning. I understood the shocking looks on my morning listeners. I was mixing French with Spanish and they were clueless. Coincidence! Six hours later, a lady made the same mistake. I laughed ridiculously and realized my mistake. A mistake made due to learning multiple languages at the same time and having half knowledge about them.

Three Mexican states are on the Yucatan peninsula. I went to two of them – Quintana Roo and Yucatan - during my visit. These two states had rich Mayan heritage with many Mayan cities one could visit even today. Tulum is one of the popular Mayan archeological and heritage sites. A two and a half hour bus ride from Cancun and then 20 minutes taxi ride from bus station dropped me in the area of Tulum ruins. As expected of any tourist site, around Tulum ruins a lot of hustle was visible - Few restaurants and many small booths by different resorts to attract tourists. All the booths looked same, like official tourist information counters. I realized they were not official tourist information booths in the hindsight. Even though their appearances were a little misleading, all the counters provided correct information. I signed up for a day at the resort including entry to the ruins, snorkeling and a photo shoot of ruins from the ocean.

While buying my day pass, I talked to the sales manager at the counter and he explained complicated travel route from the booth to the ruins, ruins’ exit, and a long walk to the left of the exit to reach the resort. The entire map and setting were difficult to comprehend. In addition, I had a little distrust as to give all money up front and not able to find the resort or the right person in the resort. Being a good sales manager, the man at the counter sensed my anxiety from my questions. To assure me, he confidently said, “Find Paco and tell him Escobar send you.” My eyes widened and my heart skipped a bit of remote possibility of meeting Escobar. My mind quickly said, “Rubbish!” Although Pablo Escobar must had someone named Paco in his gang, he died more than twenty years ago. The sales manager’s name anti-climactically turned out to be Mario Escobar.

The Mayan world was not one big kingdom or state. Unusually, each city in Mayan world was an independent kingdom. Tulum was no exception. Another Mayan city I visited was Chichen Itza. Having named one of the modern wonders of the world – The Chichen Itza pyramid – Chichen Itza was easily the most visited Mayan city. Many of the well-known Mayan ruins were well controlled by Government-private partnerships. Many Mayan cities are yet to be explored, only a few of the explored  are tourist worthy. Forests have grown over many of the Mayan ruins and it would be a different adventure to explore non-touristic unexplored Mayan world. The adventure I did not take, but I would like to in future.

Major ruins like Tulum and Chichen Itza have been restored and preserved as complete cities. One would need a ticket to enter and explore the ruins. The ruins had different buildings, a stone base being common among all of them. I will discuss the ruins in a separate blog. I noticed a few characteristics at the ruins, however. Two top most were cleanliness and orderly chaos. The ruins were well maintained. Entry and exit points of the original cities were preserved. Instructions and details about the ruins were a little scarce, but it did not decrease the grandeur of them. Chichen Itza had small vendors – hundreds of them – scattered inside the ruins. They were shouting, attracting customers, bargaining and everything chaotic that went with the tourists. On the other hand, the ruins were still clean, not a single piece of garbage. Despite many vendors and not visible signs of an elaborate system of them following specific rules and regulations, everything was in order. There were absolutely no obstacles in witnessing the majestic beauty of the ruins. I have lived my life in two countries with opposite view on rules and order: United State and India. In the United States, one can not apply common sense and everyone follows rules like slaves. On the opposite end, in India the most popular rule is ‘Rules are meant to be broken.’ Mexico was pleasantly balanced between those two extremes. There were minimum rules and regulations and common sense was prevailing.

I also met a smart salesman in Chichen Itza selling souvenirs, Mayan masks, clothes, artifacts, instruments and lots of other merchandise. While I was walking away from Chichen Itza pyramid, a Mexican boy walked up to me and said, “Namaste.” The 12-year-old boy spoke only Spanish, but catchphrases in many other languages. He was able to get my attention and that of many others. I ignored him at first, but he followed me and asked, “Are you not Namaste?” He could not even say ‘from India’, as he did not know other phrases in English. I stopped looked at his merchandise, talked a little with my limited Spanish and started walking. Unperturbed he found a couple and followed up with “Are you Ni Hau?”, rightly guessing the couple to be Chinese and getting their attention. I ended up buying a lot from Chichen Itza. 

I had numerous other pleasant experiences while in Mexico. Be it a moped ride through island of Isla Mujeres – not isla de mujeres or speedboat and snorkeling in Tulum. Isla Mujeres was the east most land of Mexico. A cliff in southern end of the island receives the first sunray of Mexico every morning. The cliff was called Acantilado de Amanecer or simply the cliff of the dawn. This southern tip of the island had small area of Mayan ruins, nothing compared to Tulum. However, at the end of the ruins, hidden stairs led down to cliffs. A small walkway around the cliffs presented a violent side of the Caribbean Sea. Forceful waves and elaborate cliff structures extending off the island into the sea produced soulful music and large water splashes. I spent an hour in that area just admiring natural music and force. If you ever visit that island, cliff of the dawn is the must place to visit.

In complete contrast, north end of the Isla Mujeres had beaches with calm clear water. Playa Norte beach had the cleanest and bluest water I had ever seen. Standing neck dip in the sea, I could see my feet at the bottom. Playa Norte, the north beach of Isla Mujeres is popular for its picturesque sunset and rightly so. I used my waterproof camera to stand in the water and shoot sunset with boats, blue water and Sun. The pictures were as good as a dreamy painting. Playa Norte was truly a wonder of its own at the Sunset. Boats and Yachts passing by, blue calm water reflecting dying sunlight and color changing horizons were perfect foils to majestic sunset. 

Overall, Yucatan Peninsula in southeast Mexico not only had beautiful beaches and rich Mayan history, but good public transport, food and safety. It was incredible to see order without stringent rules and guidelines. Mexico is ill famous for its drug related crime. However, those are in other parts of Mexico. On the Yucatan Peninsula, all I witnessed was good life, good food and friendly people. A word about people there: their major source of income is tourists. They interact with tourist all day, as taxi drivers, hotel receptionist, guides, waiters, tour operators, merchants and in many more forms, but at the end of the day they go back to their life, their own world separated from crazy tourists and visitors. That is the reason they still live their life freely and on their own terms. Of all the places I have been to, I witnessed the most balanced life there. Another area of concern I had at the start of the trip was language. In Cancun everyone spoke English in some capacity. However, I hardly spent any time in Cancun. The farther I was from Cancun, the less English I encountered. In fact, the apartment I was living in Valladolid had no English speaking staff. Still I survived, not because my Spanish was great, but the people were willing to communicate.

Getting out of routine is always great. Getting a different perspective of life is even better. I achieved both by visiting Mexico. Washington, DC, as a city, has a unique power to make its inhabitant believe that there is only one way to life. My experiments in Mexico proved Washington, DC wrong. There are many more ways to life and some, perhaps better.

Drag Queen James Bond

“Ready, on your mark, GO!” a man shouts at the starting point. James, along with over one hundred other drag queens wearing high heels, runs as fast as they can. More than 1000 people are gathered to witness the race. Some drag queens fall down, but many of them run through the finish line. Some just walk the course with the sole purpose of entertaining the crowd. James and his friends run, but they are not the fastest. The crowd runs/walks after the last drag queen finishes and it’s a big celebration at the finish line. James is surrounded by his fans in a narrow street surrounded by row houses and brick sidewalks. People in the crowd continue to walk up to him to take pictures. He is a celebrity today. He is happy. He does not remember the events of the past two days and his hospital visit. 

Out of the corner of his right eye he sees a guy standing on a sidewalk with a subtle smile. The smile is familiar. James recognizes the smile as his own: upper lip curled up on the right side, similar to a Sylvester Stallone smile. He fights through the crowd and instinctively walks up to the guy.

“Hi! I’m James. Did you know you have the exact same smile as me?” says James.

“Hi James! I realize that now. I’m Bond. Nice costume!” says the guy. He is taken aback by the sudden conversation with one of the drag queens, but he responds calmly, but his smile vanishes.

“Forgive me for intruding, but are you suffering from Bell’s Palsy by any chance?” James asks. Four excited girls walk up to him for a picture. James unwillingly obliges. His attention is captured by Bond and his smile.

Bond waits for James and then replies “Yes, I am. Are you also?”

“Yes,” says James. His Queen Elizabeth outfit continues to draw attention and many people still want to take pictures with him, so he says, “Bond! Let’s walk to a quiet place.”

Bond is not sure, but the connection of illness draws him to obey James. He nods and they start walking out of the crowd, onto the sidewalks of Q Street, and away from DuPont Circle. James is still drawing attention but no one is walking up to him. Passersby are sneaking a look at him. Some are even talking behind the back. James is not bothered by it. He has seen this for many years. However, Bond is feeling uncomfortable. James is yet not talking to him after the initial conversation. They walk a little and sit down at a small café.

“You are very quiet. You did not ask a single question,” says James.

“I do not know how to react,” says Bond. “I have never met anyone with Bell’s Palsy and certainly never started a conversation with it.” Bond wants to say something about the outrageous outfit, but he holds himself back. He looks around the small rectangular room and counts 5 tables and 13 chairs.

“I had to go to the emergency room yesterday and almost missed the race. It’s fresh in my mind, and probably what drew me to you,” says James drawing Bond’s attention to himself.

“Probably. Anyways, why do you run in this bizarre race? What is the purpose?” asks Bond finally losing self control.

“Why do you come to watch it?” asks James.

“I heard about it from a colleague and found it intriguing, so I decided to check out. I had no idea of its….,” Bond pauses to find the right word.

Both men stare at each other for a second and then James says, “Outrageous. That’s fair. This race gives me a sense of belonging to a community. Weirdness is appreciated here,” says James. A Girl in her early twenties walks up to them and asks what they want.

“A latte for me,” says James and looks at Bond.

“No coffee for me. I won’t be able sleep. Just water, please,” orders Bond. “What community?” Bond asks drawing James’ attention back. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was just a bunch of lunatics getting together to make fun of themselves.”

“Based on that statement, you definitely don’t know any better,” says James spontaneously.

“What do you mean?” asks Bond leaning over the table.

“I assure you, no one there is a lunatic. And by community, I mean LGBT,” says James.

“Like homosexual? Are you…..” Bond hesitates to ask.

“Yes, I am Gay,” says James. Bond shifts his posture away from the table, obviously uncomfortable. Looking at Bond’s reaction James says, “Are you surprised or offended?”

“Ah, I don’t know. I never met anyone like you,” says Bond.

“In that case, you’re the best person I’ve met,” says James smiling

“How’s that?” Bond asks.

“You didn’t get up and runaway. Generally, when someone like you meets someone like me for the first time, the reaction is wilder.” says James. Bond didn’t say anything; he was not relaxed or comfortable. He decided to continue and not be rude.

“You know, I almost miss the race today,” says James trying to ease the tension.

“Why is that?” Bond asks.

“Bell’s Palsy. I started feeling numb a couple of days back, here on my face,” James touched a point on his face just above left eyebrow. “Yesterday, it was worse. Numbness spread all over the left side of my face. I had to go to the emergency room. I spent the whole night there. In my sleep deprived state, I almost slept through today.” James hoped to cash in on similarity by describing his experience.

Bond eyes light up. He says, “That’s my story as well. I also had to go to the emergency room for the exact same reason yesterday. I slept through the afternoon and was feeling a little low. I was looking for ‘Things to do in DC’ talking to a friend and found this event. What a coincidence!”

“Right. See we are not that different.” James says. It’s amazing what a common connection can do. Bond is more relaxed now, but he does not respond to that comment. He has no idea how to behave around homosexual people. “Don’t worry James. I like guys that do not mean I will make sexual advances on you. I can be a normal friend,” says James reading Bond’s mind.

“No, I wasn’t thinking that,” Bond lies looking at his feet. Now Bond changes the conversation back to their illness. “James, I had to wait for hours in that emergency room yesterday before I could actually get treated. They did not consider mental anguish a serious enough issue.”

“I know. I also had to wait three hours. I went to a nurse and told her that I was uncomfortable. She asked me politely to explain. I could not. All I could say was that I felt numb and uncomfortable. She did not consider it serious enough,” says James.

James’ coffee arrives at the table, but Bond is oblivious to the fact. “Exactly. I hear you. They do not know what’s going through our heads. They just think that blood and audible screaming is the only way that pain can be recognized. It’s like we are discriminated against,” says Bond.

“I know that word and I have felt it for many years,” says James stirring his coffee.

“What word?” asks Bond.

“Discrimination,” says James. “It is the same mental anguish I feel when people ask me to describe or explain why I am gay.”

“Dude, you can choose. How can you not like girls?” asks Bond.

James stares at Bond. “I can’t explain. I believe you out of all should understand. It’s the same as Palsy. Only you know what you’re feeling. I like guys and I am homosexual. I don’t know why. I can’t describe what I feel. “ James lets go of spoon and leans back in his chair.

“So you’re saying it’s a disease,” says Bond.

James laughs. “Do you think so?” he asks in sarcastic manner.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been Gay,” says James.

“Exactly, my friend. Can other people understand what you are going through when you have one of these numbness attacks? Being homosexual is not a disease. It’s as if you like vanilla ice cream and I like chocolate ice cream,” says James.

“Aren’t you downplaying? Sexual orientation is more serious than choosing an ice cream flavor,” says Bond.

“I’m not downplaying, Bond. I’m just saying it is hard to explain. If you forget that I’m gay. We are not much different. We both suffer from the same illness and we both had to go through the same challenges in past 24 hours. Let’s say I am just answering your question of why I run in this race,” says James.

“Why is that?” asks Bond.

“Didn’t you feel good to find someone who went through the same experiences in the past 24 hours?” asks James.

“Yes,” Bond nodes.

“This race is a medium for me to find someone who’s been going through the same discrimination for years,” says James. James quietly drinks his coffee and Bond sips through water. None of them talk till they are finished. James pays for his coffee and they leave.

“It was nice talking to you,” says Bond extending his hands.

James does not shake hands. “Bond, come back next year. Let’s meet here at this café. I want hear your thought after a year. I will save this handshake till then.” James smiles, turns around and walks back. Bond stands there for few minutes making a mental note of coming back next year and walks towards the metro station.

Copy editor: Marisa Strothenke

A dream of suicide

“Why are you panting? What’s the matter?” Julie asked visibly out of breath Simon.

“I am coming…” a deep gasp “..from my..” Simon stopped for few seconds, took a few deep breath. 

“I’m coming from my office.” The words came uninterrupted from his mouth, but he was far from being calm. His heart was trying to escape his chest. “You know where I work?” He finally stood straight and asked Julie.

“Of course, I do. You work in the tallest building in downtown dealing with big bucks. Everyone knows that.” Said Julie irritated. ”as you’ve said it many times,” she finished the sentence in her mind. Simon had a habit of boasting his high status work at a big financial planning corporate. Big job and big bucks had a big stress.

“When I stepped into my office today, everyone was waiting for me. Can you believe that?” asked Simon with one more deep breath.

“No. No one gives a shit in your office. Self-centered bastards.” Julie said. She wanted to say this for a long time.

“Yes. But today was different. Not only they were waiting, they were staring at me. No one greeted me. No small talk. Not even my secretary.” He looked at Julie expecting a response.

“OH! Unusual!” Julie said realizing her turn to speak.

“Scared I was. I just walked into my cabin and 15 people rushed in behind me. Can you imagine 15 people in my small office? It was intimidating. I tried to focus on calm sky and the moonlight. Then Noel walked forward and said…” Simon paused for moment avoiding Julie’s eyes.

Julie said rather bored, “What?”

“He said that I should commit suicide,” said Simon with pleading eyes. Piercing look in Julie’s eye confirmed her attention. She guessed where Simon was going. Nonetheless she didn’t intervene. Simon continued,”I was like what are you saying Noel? We never liked each other much, but we never had any issues either. It was just a professional rivalry. After few seconds of silence, all damn 15 people shouted at once that I should commit suicide.” Large chunk of Oxygen was engulfed by Simon’s stretched mouth.

Julie knew where it was going. She just said, “Go on.”

“I somehow fostered courage and ran out of the cabin pushing everyone. I just ran and ran, didn’t wait for the elevator. Upon reaching security office on the ground floor, I told them what happened. All three security guards in there laughed and asked me to commit suicide. The same damn thing. I have been a bit arrogant to them, but I never thought it would get this far.”

Julie said, “Then you came to me, right?”

“Probably. I don’t remember correctly. I might have asked a dog on my way for help and it also said the same thing. I remember you had a similar dream before you …” Simon hesitated. “Before you tried to kill yourself last year. But this is happening to me.”

“Is it?” asked Julie.

“Is it not?”

“Look around. Do you see where we are?” asked Julie.

Simon looked around and let out a scream. “We are on top the monument, the Washington Monument.” Simon felt the strong wind now. He shouted, “Am I dreaming?”

“In a way. However, it has an impact on your reality as well.” Julie said.

“In what way?”

“Let’s see. I ask again, why are you here?” asked Julie.

“You know it. I told you the ENTIRE story,” said Simon irritated.

“Well, if you were here just to tell me the story, you would have left by now. I think you’re expecting a response.” Simon just looked at Julie. He wasn’t sure. Julie continued, “And my opinion is you should jump from here.”

“You, too? You are also pushing me for suicide.” Simon paused for moment and then said firmly,” As you said, this is just a dream. Even if I jump, it won’t make any difference. You people can’t kill me.”

“Precisely. Let’s dissect two parts. The first part is, this is your dream. That’s why it has an impact on your reality. If you decide to kill yourself in your dream, you will try to kill yourself in reality. That’s what happened to me. I made a wrong decision in my dream.  The second part, it is not what I’m saying or others are saying counts. Your decision and desire are important.” Two sets of eyes pierced each other, one decisive and one confused.

“What do I do next?” Simon asked.

“Jump.”

Simon looked down and said. “Jump? You still want me to kill myself!”

“No. I don’t have power to decide whether you live or kill yourself. I am not suggesting you kill yourself, I’m just saying jump,” said Julie.

Simon looked around. The Sun was rising besides The Capitol Rotunda and on the west Lincoln memorial started to glow in mild yellow sunshine. Simon did a full circle. A mix of old and new architecture in the National Mall did not tell the real story of city’s struggle, its survival and its rejuvenation. Simon remembered one of his reads. Washington DC was destroyed during the Civil War. The legislators turned against the city and threatened to shift the capital of the country, like asking the city to commit suicide. Instead of bowing down to stress and negativity, DC decided to stand up. It built itself again. Old marble and new bricks stood together. Old marble reminded new bricks of the history and lessons learned, while new bricks supported the old marbles, carving the way forward. A new energy filled in Simon’s nerves. He closed his eyes and jumped.

Julie smiled looking at him and said, “Remember If you give up, your dreams give up. Your dreams give up, your life gives up. Never give up.”