destiny

11

The Summer Before College

Growing up, I always thought summer was about outdoor barbecues, picnics, pool parties, and vacations. It didn’t occur to me that there was anything more important back then. I had no idea that my decisions were going to become more stressful than something like buying souvenirs in a gift shop at the Smithsonian History Museum. Everything, however, changed for me this summer. I was stripped from my typical anticipation of relaxing, summer activities. After recently graduating from high school, my thoughts were constantly troubled by the dread of the...

5

Across the Dirt Road

It all flashed right before my eyes, right across the street from the tailor’s shack in northern Bangladesh. My aunt and uncle were having a salwar kameez, a traditional Bangladeshi outfit, tailored for me. After purchasing the material, we dropped the fabric at the tailor’s shack. The simple shack was made of wood and tin, located directly across a green pond. I stood there, observing the scene, while the tailor took measurements for the clothing. I saw a rickshaw peddler cross the dirt road and step into a shop...

5

The Lake House

Beyond a forest whence wind whispers, Amidst harmony and her sisters, Among vast land and alluring shadows, Stood a lake house in a deserted meadow. It cried a hymn, a cunning calling, To the one who found it deceiving; appalling, “Thou hast thieved thyself of this, Thou must return and reminisce.” Temptations were of the victim’s least interest, For long has it been defiantly distressed. Never did he intend to return; He cursed the lake house and wished it to burn. In the depths of the darkness it was...

6

Towards Unity

(Verse one) I can’t escape, its everywhere I go In the news in the paper, in all that I know From state to state, shore to shore Plagued to the heart, down to the core Undivided and conquered we’re all torn apart This is coming from inside, straight from my heart This is all I’m thinking, day and night We seem to think we’re always right When I go to the Masjid, I don’t know who’s leading Who’s sitting by my side, I don’t know who’s praying Do I...

1

An Unstoppable Murder

Reading the Washington Post, I came across a first page article that really struck me; it was basically about an Amtrak engineer who had watched a dozen suicides happen in front of his eyes over the course of twenty years. People would be sitting in the middle of train tracks just waiting to be hit, and the train engineers would not be able to deter the person with their frantic horn blasts and their attempts to brake the 75-mph train. As I read through the article, I was wonderstruck...