Articles

Zunny Bracho’s Muerte por Justicia is a soul-wrenching odyssey that traverses the fragile boundary between trauma and transformation, victimhood and vengeance, madness and morality. In this piercing psychological thriller, the author dares to illuminate the darkest corridors of the human psyche—those shaped by childhood abuse, emotional abandonment, and a society that often fails its most innocent members.

NARRATIVE OVERVIEW

Set against the backdrop of luxury, power, and emotional neglect, Muerte por Justicia tells the story of Edward Robinson Jr., the son of a billionaire hotel magnate who is too consumed by his empire to notice the abyss forming in his child’s life. Raised in opulence yet starved of affection, Edward is left in the care of abusive tutors whose heinous acts trigger a cascade of psychological distortions.

As Edward grows, the trauma of his past mutates into a chilling persona. His brilliance becomes a weapon. His silence, a mask. His vengeance, a ritual. What unfolds is not merely the making of a serial killer, but the unraveling of a man sculpted by torment and sculptor of his own twisted sense of justice.

THEMATIC DEPTH

1. Child Abuse and Its Consequences
The novel is a searing indictment of the systemic failure to protect vulnerable children. Through Edward’s descent, Bracho demonstrates how early trauma can forge monsters, not by choice, but by sheer survival.

2. Justice and Moral Ambiguity
The title itself—Death for Justice—is a provocative meditation on vigilante morality. Edward does not kill indiscriminately; he hunts predators cloaked in respectability—teachers, coaches, mentors. He is both executioner and echo of his own violated innocence.

3. The Duality of the Human Psyche
Edward’s character is painted in chiaroscuro: part genius, part ghost, part victim, part villain. The author masterfully evokes sympathy for a murderer whose crimes, while unforgivable, are born from unspeakable cruelty.

4. Law vs. Conscience
The pursuit led by FBI agent Carl Miller is as much a legal chase as a spiritual confrontation. Miller’s eventual discovery of his own connection to Edward adds an existential weight to the investigation, challenging our perceptions of fate, family, and the burden of knowing.

LITERARY STYLE

Bracho’s prose is raw and immersive, infused with poetic cadence and cinematic clarity. The narrative voice balances empathy and tension, leading the reader through scenes of graphic realism, emotional devastation, and moments of eerie calm.

Dialogues are taut with intensity, especially in the courtroom sequences, where justice is not merely served but interrogated. The flashbacks are haunting and serve as emotional anchors, creating a timeline where every past wound bleeds into present violence.

AESTHETIC AND PHILOSOPHICAL POWER

Muerte por Justicia transcends the confines of conventional crime fiction. It is a philosophical inquiry dressed in thriller form—a lamentation for lost childhoods and a warning against the monsters society breeds in silence. The climactic moments, especially the final trial, are heavy with moral weight: How do we judge a killer who was once a helpless child begging for mercy?

And in that last scene—where Edward faces his execution—Bracho offers not resolution, but reflection. A mirror is held up to society: what justice do we claim when we ignore the roots of evil?

FINAL EVALUATION

Zunny Bracho has authored more than a novel; she has rendered a literary requiem for all forgotten children, a piercing critique of institutional apathy, and an unflinching portrait of a man shaped by horror and driven by a tragic sense of righteousness.

Muerte por Justicia is a brutal, brilliant, and unforgettable masterpiece—a must-read for those who seek literature that dares to challenge the conscience, elevate the soul, and disturb the silence.

In the classroom, the discussion of writing methodologies often centres around a seemingly fundamental dichotomy: the structured approach of ‘plotters’ versus the improvisational style of ‘pantsers’. This classification, whilst useful as an initial framework, belies the nuanced reality of the creative writing process that most published authors actually employ.

Professional writers understand that effective storytelling rarely adheres to rigid methodological boundaries. Rather, it emerges from a personalised process that may draw elements from both approaches, adapting as necessary to serve the narrative at hand. The journey to discovering this individualised approach represents one of the most significant developmental milestones in a writer’s career.

‘I’ve been writing for 30 years,’ the late Hilary Mantel once remarked, ‘and I’m still discovering what works for me.’ This observation from a two-time Booker Prize winner illuminates an essential truth: despite the abundance of well-meaning advice in writing manuals and creative workshops, the most valuable insights emerge through personal practice and reflection.

Consider the contrasting approaches of two bestselling authors. J.K. Rowling meticulously plotted the Harry Potter series with detailed grids, timelines, and character arcs long before writing the opening chapters. Her colour-coded spreadsheets mapping out the complex narrative strands of Hogwarts have become almost as famous as the books themselves among aspiring writers. In direct contrast, Stephen King describes his writing process as archaeological rather than architectural: ‘Stories are found things, like fossils in the ground… The writer’s job is to use the tools in his or her toolbox to get as much of each one out of the ground intact as possible.’

Both approaches have yielded remarkable literary achievements, suggesting that success lies not in adhering to a prescribed methodology but in finding the approach that best aligns with one’s creative temperament and the demands of the particular narrative being crafted.

Many professional writers, having experimented with both extremes throughout their careers, ultimately settle into what the writing community has termed ‘plantsing’ – a hybrid approach that accommodates both structured planning and spontaneous discovery. This flexibility allows writers to adapt their process to different projects or even different stages within the same project. As Neil Gaiman explains: ‘I’m not really a plotter or a pantser. I’m more of a “let me tell you a story and find out what happens” person.’

What proves particularly instructive is how established authors frequently modify their approach throughout their literary careers. Philip Pullman, whose intricate His Dark Materials trilogy represents a masterclass in world-building, observes: ‘I’m not interested in techniques. I’m interested in stories… The techniques look after themselves.’ This evolution in methodology shouldn’t be interpreted as inconsistency but rather as professional growth – a refinement of craft in response to accumulated experience.

A comprehensive survey of contemporary novelists would likely reveal as many different writing processes as there are writers. Some begin with character sketches, others with setting or theme. Some write chronologically, others skip between pivotal scenes. Some require absolute silence, others the ambient noise of a busy café. The consistent element across these diverse approaches is authenticity – each writer has discovered the process that enables them to access their unique creative voice.

Toni Morrison’s oft-quoted advice to ‘write the book you want to read’ transcends matters of technique to address the more fundamental question of authorial purpose. This deceptively simple guidance invites writers to move beyond prescriptive methodologies to engage with their deepest creative instincts. The writer who dares to experiment – plotting one chapter, pantsing another, and perhaps employing a different approach entirely for a third – develops not merely technical versatility but a more profound understanding of their own creative rhythms.

When Samuel Beckett advised writers to ‘fail better’, he was acknowledging the inherently experimental nature of the creative process. Each draft represents not a definitive statement but a hypothesis – an attempt to translate nebulous ideas into coherent narrative. This perspective liberates writers from the paralysing pressure of immediate perfection, encouraging instead a process of continuous refinement through which authentic voice emerges.

For emerging writers, perhaps the most valuable skill to cultivate is not plotting or pantsing but discernment – the capacity to recognise which approach best serves both the current project and their own creative temperament. This may mean outlining extensively for complex narratives with multiple viewpoints while adopting a more exploratory approach for character-driven pieces. It might involve detailed planning for the narrative’s structural framework whilst allowing characters to develop organically within that structure.

The enduring debate between plotting and pantsing ultimately dissolves in the face of this more essential truth: effective writing emerges not from rigid adherence to external guidelines but through patient self-exploration and creative integrity. Through this process of discovery, writers develop that singular voice which, once found, becomes their most valuable professional asset – a literary fingerprint that cannot be replicated or mistaken for any other.

Pramudith D Rupasinghe

About the Author

Pramudith D Rupasinghe is a Sri Lankan writer and humanitarian. His literary works predominantly unfold in settings beyond his native Sri Lanka, for which he earned the name ‘Writer Without Borders. His work of fiction, ‘Bayan,’ set in pre-conflict Ukraine, won the Golden Aster Prize for Global Literature in 2020 and was longlisted for the 2023 Paris Book Festival. Rupasinghe’s works have been translated into several languages, including Sinhalese, Burmese,  German, Spanish, Russian, Polish, Bulgarian and French. He has also dedicated two decades to humanitarian work, drawing inspiration for his writing from his missions to Africa, Europe, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East. He is known for his thought-provoking narratives that delve into the human psyche, cultural identities, and global experiences.

 

 

In the ever-shifting landscape of human knowledge, both truth and fiction possess curious lifespans, evolving and transforming through time’s passage. What begins as accepted truth can fade into mythology, while yesterday’s fanciful fiction might become tomorrow’s lived reality. This dance between fact and fantasy reveals not fixed categories but a continuous spectrum where truths and falsehoods exchange places with remarkable fluidity.

Consider how historical ‘facts’ once held as absolute truths now provoke disbelief. For centuries, medical texts documented with absolute certainty that women’s wombs could detach and wander through the body, causing ‘female hysteria’—a ‘truth’ defended by the greatest physicians across cultures. The miasma theory of disease transmission, attributing illness to ‘bad air’ rather than microorganisms, guided public health policies for centuries before being thoroughly discredited. These weren’t merely opinions but firmly established ‘truths’ that eventually crumbled beneath the weight of new discoveries. And often, the truth lies inside the lie itself, and vice versa.

Literature offers compelling examples of fiction that transcended its imaginary boundaries to become prophetic through sheer coincidence rather than deliberate speculation. As you’ve mentioned, my novel ‘Bayan’ portrayed political scenarios in Ukraine that later materialised with unsettling accuracy. The book, written in 2014, depicted circumstances that preceded Russia’s annexation of Crimea and the Donbas conflict—fictional narratives that subsequently played out on the world stage without any speculative intent from the author. This transformation from fabrication to historical record demonstrates the peculiar lifecycle where fiction outlives its fictional nature through pure accident.

Morgan Robertson’s novella ‘Futility’ (later renamed ‘The Wreck of the Titan’) provides perhaps the most striking example of accidental prophecy. Published in 1898, it described the sinking of a supposedly unsinkable ocean liner called the Titan after striking an iceberg in the North Atlantic. Fourteen years later, the Titanic sank in shockingly similar circumstances. Robertson’s fictional vessel bore remarkable similarities to the actual Titanic in size, speed, and passenger capacity—despite being written years before the Titanic was even designed. The fictional ship even lacked sufficient lifeboats, just as the real Titanic would. This wasn’t speculative fiction attempting to predict the future; it was pure coincidence that transformed fiction into a disturbing premonition.

Edgar Allan Poe’s only complete novel, ‘The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket’ (1838), includes a scene where shipwreck survivors, stranded on a lifeboat, resort to cannibalism and eat a cabin boy named Richard Parker. Forty-six years later, a real shipwreck occurred involving survivors who, after drawing lots, killed and ate a cabin boy—whose name was Richard Parker. This macabre convergence of fiction and reality occurred without any possible causal connection, demonstrating how fictional narratives can eerily materialise in reality through pure coincidence. Later Yann Martel’s Booker winning novel, not a total coincidence, uses the name Richard Parker to The Royal Bengali, the tiger, one of the two main characters in the novel. Therefore, the relationship works bidirectionally. 

Historical accounts once treated as unquestionable fact gradually transition into recognised fiction or myth. The extensive writings about the court of King Arthur were long treated as historical chronicles before being understood as largely fictional. Marco Polo’s detailed accounts of his travels, once considered reliable geographical documentation, now contain elements historians recognise as embellished or fabricated. Ibn Battuta’s travel writings, while valuable historical documents, include geographical impossibilities and timeline contradictions that reveal the presence of fictional elements presented as factual observation.

Ancient medical texts offer compelling examples of ‘non-fiction’ that gradually became obsolete. Galen’s anatomical writings, considered medical gospel for over a millennium, contained fundamental errors resulting from his reliance on animal rather than human dissection. His incorrect descriptions of human liver shape and uterine structure were taught as absolute medical fact until Andreas Vesalius demonstrated their falsehood in the 16th century. What began as authoritative medical documentation slowly transformed into medical mythology.

Historical chronicles frequently underwent similar transformations. Geoffrey of Monmouth’s ‘Historia Regum Britanniae’ (History of the Kings of Britain) was long considered authentic British history before gradually being recognised as a creative blend of myths, legends and fabrications. Its accounts of King Lear and Cymbeline provided Shakespeare with material but represented fiction masquerading as historical record. The boundary between documented history and imaginative storytelling often becomes apparent only across centuries.

Even carefully documented ethnographies and travel accounts frequently contain elements that transition from accepted fact to recognised fiction. John Mandeville’s 14th-century travel accounts were considered factual geographic references for centuries before being recognised as largely imaginary. Similarly, numerous anthropological accounts from the colonial era described cultural practices that were either fundamentally misunderstood or occasionally invented outright by observers who believed they were producing objective documentation.

This transience suggests that both truth and fiction serve as temporal vessels rather than eternal categories. They function as containers holding human understanding at particular moments, subject to reexamination and redefinition as our perspective shifts. All knowledge exists in historical context, making its categorisation as ‘fact’ or ‘fiction’ contingent rather than absolute.

Perhaps most fascinating is the moment of transition—when fiction crosses into fact by sheer coincidence or truth dissolves into mythology through evolving understanding. These threshold events often mark significant shifts in human knowledge. When archaeological discoveries revealed that Heinrich Schliemann’s excavation of Troy had discovered a real city behind what many had dismissed as Homeric fiction, it transformed our understanding of the relationship between myth and history. Similarly, when medical texts documenting the efficacy of bloodletting transitioned from accepted medical fact to recognised pseudoscience, it marked a fundamental shift in medical epistemology.

The labels themselves—‘fiction’ and ‘non-fiction’—reveal our problematic tendency toward binary categorisation. Reality operates in gradients rather than absolutes. Historical accounts invariably contain interpretive elements that introduce subjectivity into supposedly objective records. Even meticulously documented journalism includes framing choices that shape meaning beyond raw facts. Meanwhile, fiction frequently incorporates genuine historical events and sociological insights that provide genuine illumination of reality.

This transience needn’t inspire the nihilistic dismissal of all knowledge claims. Rather, it invites intellectual humility—recognising that today’s certainties may become tomorrow’s quaint misconceptions. The most robust approach involves holding multiple possibilities simultaneously, maintaining receptivity to evidence that might transform our understanding. This perspective allows us to engage meaningfully with both factual accounts and fictional narratives, recognising their potential to exchange places through the strange alchemy of time and circumstance.

Pramudith D Rupasinghe

About the Author

Pramudith D Rupasinghe is a Sri Lankan writer and humanitarian. His literary works predominantly unfold in settings beyond his native Sri Lanka, for which he earned the name ‘Writer Without Borders. His work of fiction, ‘Bayan,’ set in pre-conflict Ukraine, won the Golden Aster Prize for Global Literature in 2020 and was longlisted for the 2023 Paris Book Festival. Rupasinghe’s works have been translated into several languages, including Sinhalese, Burmese,  German, Spanish, Russian, Polish, Bulgarian and French. He has also dedicated two decades to humanitarian work, drawing inspiration for his writing from his missions to Africa, Europe, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East. He is known for his thought-provoking narratives that delve into the human psyche, cultural identities, and global experiences.

 

The wolf of Gubbio was feared and deplored by everyone in the Italian province of Perugia. The terrifying wolf attacked everyone who came its way until one day the ferocious beast encountered St Francis of Assisi. The saint addressed the beast, ‘Brother Wolf!’ Francis was the first ever man to look tenderly into the eyes of the beast. The brotherly gaze of the saint transformed the wild animal. The legend says that the wolf never harmed anyone again…

Eight centuries later, for the first time in history, a pope ascended the Chair of St Peter, taking the name Francis, after the legendary eco saint. The choice of the name itself was a declaration – an assertion that mercy, tenderness, profound humanity, and universal fraternity were about to rule. As Pope Francis himself said once, elucidating his stance, “The Church is a forgiving mother, who welcomes all people with an attitude of understanding, clemency, and forgiveness.”

When white smoke emerged from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel on 13th March 2013, hardly anyone expected the new pope to be a non-European. Thwarting all speculations and presumptions, the name was announced: Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio from Argentina!

Elected as the 266th pope, Francis was the first non-European pope in over 1,300 years after Gregory III from Syria. He was also the first Latin American pontiff and the first Jesuit to be elected as a pope.

It was just the beginning of many surprises God had in store for the world through the unconventional pope. To the astonishment of all, from the open window of St Peter’s Basilica, the new Pope bowed to the people and sought their blessings and prayers as a sign of profound humility.

A fortnight after his election, in a homily during the Chrism Mass offered for French student priests of the Church of St. Louis, Pope Francis mentioned the iconic analogy, “shepherds with the smell of the sheep,” which would later become the trademark of his papacy.

It was an indirect announcement of the track he was going to choose during his epoch-making papacy. The world soon witnessed the papacy being made much more human, more accessible, and less remote.

In one of the major interviews given to the Italian Jesuit priest and journalist, Fr Antonio Spadaro, when asked about speaking to a large crowd like that of the World Youth Day, Pope Francis said, “I manage to look at individual persons, one at a time, to enter into personal contact with whomever I have in front of me. I’m not used to the masses.”

Later, Fr Spadaro commented on this remark: “Whenever he is among a crowd of people Pope Francis’ eyes actually rest on individual persons.”

This statement sums up the motive behind the decisions and actions of Pope Francis. He looked at individual persons. He encountered souls. When one looks at an individual person, one can see the depth of the soul, who needs divine and human compassion, understanding, and acceptance. Here is the clue to his unparalleled compassion towards the outcasts and people on the peripheries like the migrants, the LGBTQ people, the homeless, the war-affected, and everyone who is less fortunate.

Once, during a 2013 conference, he responded to a question about homosexuality by saying, “Who am I to judge?” When asked about his phrase later, the Pope clarified that his comments simply meant everyone was deserving of God’s love and mercy.

During his 2017 visit to Canada, in a TED Talk delivered in Vancouver, Pope Francis used the term ‘Revolution of tenderness.’ “Tenderness is not weakness; it is fortitude. It is the path of solidarity, the path of humility” he said. He projected “tenderness” as a core Christian virtue, emphasizing its importance in fostering compassion, humility, and a more just and loving world, where the less fortunate and marginalized people are accepted and included.

The vision of tenderness is also reflected in his vision of the Church. He once defined, “Church to be seen as a field hospital, not a fortress.” He envisioned a Church that is synodal, inclusive and focused on service to the world, a place for everyone, including those who are marginalized or on the fringes of society. Pope Francis urged the Church to go out of parochial confines and embrace its global diversity, responding to the call of his divine Master: “Go to the ends of the earth.” His famous dictum ‘Go out into the streets’ resounded his vision of a compassionate church that reaches out.

Ferreting out the foundation of his profound concern and compassion for migrants, we encounter his ancestry, who migrated from Italy to Argentina during the fascist regime of Italian dictator Benito Mussolini. Young Bergoglio had heard the sad plight of migrants from his parents and grandparents. Pope Francis himself had later revealed how his grandparents and his father narrowly escaped a deadly shipwreck, which he believed was providential.

He strongly advocated for migrants because he saw in them the Church’s own pilgrimage throughout history. Often, he identified the hapless odyssey of migrants with the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt. “An encounter with a migrant is an encounter with Christ” he once said.

In the Gospels, we see that self-righteous people were the ones whom Jesus slammed the most. Everyone who acknowledged their sins with humility received the compassion of Jesus, the Good Shepherd. In his teachings, Pope Francis repeatedly called faithful to be humble and contrite of heart. He often defined himself as a sinner.

He once said, “I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech, a literary genre. I am a sinner. This reminds us of the first pope Saint Peter, who declared at the sight of Jesus, “Lord, I am a sinner!”

In one of his earlier interviews, the Pope revealed that he still goes to confession every two weeks. “The mere fact that I now dress all in white has not made me any less sinful or holier than before,” he told Jesuits during his Mozambique visit.

Like a true successor of St Peter, who wept bitterly after realizing his fault in denying his divine Master, Pope Francis never hesitated to say sorry when he felt he had been wrong. On January 22, 2018, while flying back to Rome after visiting Chile and Peru, he begged forgiveness from a victim of clerical sexual abuse. He said: “Juan Carlos, the first thing I want to do is apologize for what happened to you and apologize in the name of the Pope, and in the name of the universal church.”

Pope Francis closely followed Jesus, who traversed to the peripheries, saying, “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners”. He surprised everyone when he unconventionally washed the feet of young prisoners, including two women and two Muslims on Holy Thursday in 2013. He continued to kneel before prisoners and people of lower status, on every Holy Thursday that followed, setting an example of profound humility.

Like his saint whose name he bore, Pope Francis always had a preferential love for the poor. Calling the Church to renew its focus on the poor, he stated that loving the poor is not a task of a few but the mission of the entire Church. One World Day of the Poor, every year, he made himself available to dine with the poor people of Rome at the Vatican.

“If we want to help change history and promote real development, we need to hear the cry of the poor and commit ourselves to ending their marginalization,” he said in his message on World Day of the Poor in 2017. In his speeches, he lashed out against escalating economic inequality and called for a more just distribution of wealth and a renewed focus on the poor.

Pope Francis, who believed that the Church is essentially a welcoming house of the Father, was a great champion and advocate of ecumenism. His ecumenic vision was based on what he defined as the ‘ecumenism of blood’. “The blood of martyrs unites Christians,” he said. Emphasizing the importance of dialogue, encounter, and synodality, he stated that Christian unity is a vital part of sharing the Gospel with the world.

The interreligious stance of Pope Francis was equally significant. Believing that interreligious dialogue is a vital way to promote peace, respect, and harmony, he called for tolerance and acceptance of diversity. His epoch-making passage through the Tunnel of Friendship in Jakarta connecting the Istiqlal Mosque to the Our Lady of the Assumption Cathedral was an iconic example of his sincere attempts to maintain peace and harmony among religions in a world that is torn by strife based on religious differences. He had several heartwarming meetings with the leaders of the world religions in and out of the Vatican. During his visit to Indonesia in 2024, Pope Francis met with representatives of Indonesia’s six officially recognized religions, including Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism, and signed a document called “Human Fraternity” to promote interfaith harmony.

A champion of global peace and human brotherhood, Pope Francis always maintained an anti-war stance. He was often seen reiterating his trademark statement, “War is always, always, always a defeat,” arguing that no one benefits from it, and everyone loses. He defined war as a “crime against humanity”. He was often seen pleading for peace and ceasefire in war-torn regions such as Gaza, Ukraine, and Sudan. He repeatedly called for humanitarian aid in war-torn areas and prayed for humanitarians who risked their lives.
One of the remarkable revolutions brought about by Pope Francis in the administrative realms of the Vatican was redefining women’s role in the Church. He always emphasized the importance of women’s participation in the Church and has called for greater recognition of their talents and gifts.

To solidify his stance, he once made a radical statement: “The Church is woman!” He went on to elucidate further, “I see women blessed with charisms, and I do not want to limit the discussion of women’s role in the Church to the topic of ministry.”

A man of his word, he appointed more women to key positions in the Vatican including Sr. Simona Brambilla whom he appointed as Vatican’s first female prefect, and Sister Raffaella Petrini whom he named as the first woman governor of the Vatican City State.

In September 2024, despite being confined to a wheelchair, Pope Francis ventured on the longest apostolic journey during his papacy abroad to Southeast Asia and Oceania, which included Indonesia, Papua New Guinea, Timor-Leste, and the Philippines. The historic apostolic journey was founded on the core values he often highlighted: faith, fraternity, and compassion. Hundreds of thousands of people thronged wherever he went. He met with the leaders of the nations as well as religious leaders, discussing hot topics like global challenges, peace, and harmony between religions.

During his papacy, Pope Francis wrote four encyclicals, which include the groundbreaking encyclical on earth and environment, ‘Laudate Si.’ His first encyclical ‘Lumen Fidei’ was published in the same year of his ascension to the papal throne. In Lumen Fidei, the Pope highlighted the celebration of the Christian faith as the guiding light of a ‘successful and fruitful life’.

His second and most discussed encyclical ‘Laudate Si’ was released in 2015, highlighting the ecological crisis and calling for the protection and preservation of the earth, our common home. The name itself was derived from the Canticle of his favorite saint Francis of Assisi, the lover of nature, the encyclical echoed the eco saint’s vision for maintaining peace with the environment.

The third encyclical, ‘Fratelli Tutti, released in 2020, highlighted fraternity and social friendship. It was a heartfelt call to universal brotherhood as members of the human family.

After discussing faith, earth, and fraternity, Pope Francis chose love as the theme of his fourth encyclical, ‘Delexit Nox’ which means ‘He loved us’. This encyclical was focused on the Human and Divine Love of the Heart of Jesus Christ.

Finally, giving a glance at his recently launched autobiography, ‘Hope’, one would not fail to notice its candid splendor. His status as pope did not hinder him from accepting his weaknesses and shame as he puts it.

Standing high on the aura of the Supreme Pontiff does not hold him back from admitting that “Melancholy has always been a companion in my life.” Such a frankness and humility that stunned the world! As if in a confessional, he admits his mistakes of ignoring a housemaid who had cared for his family when he was younger.

Reading through these lines, we understand why the remorseful Peter was preferred by the Lord over his other disciples. Saying sorry to the Lord is the greatest gift one can have. Weeping for one’s shortcomings will move the Lord’s compassionate heart, who will extend his heart to embrace as he did to Peter, the first pope.

To sum up the great, legendary, and in a way revolutionary life of Pope Francis, our eyes fall upon the word ‘compassion.’ All his actions were guided and moved by compassion. His call to reach out to the peripheries and embrace the poor, the outcasts, and the miserable stemmed from this boundless compassion. As we look at the compassionate face of Pope Francis, urging us to accept the most miserable and hated of people, we hear the words of our Lord, “I came to call sinners…”

He was a true shepherd, who went out of his comfort zones in search of the lost sheep. He wanted to gather everyone, even the most hated, into the bosom of the merciful Father. His legacy will remain as a unique period of tenderness, compassion, and inclusiveness. Wherever there are wars and conflicts, his voice will echo, calling for peace and brotherhood. Wherever there is discrimination, his voice will resound with a heartfelt invitation of acceptance and fraternity.

Thank you, dear Papa! You have left us an undying legacy. You have made the world a better place to live with your heartfelt call to return to tenderness. You made outcasts feel accepted and loved. You taught us to value our common home, the earth. Thank you, Good Shepherd!

Abhilash Fraizer

About the Author

Abhilash Fraizer is an Indian author, poet, novelist, journalist, translator and advertising copy writer hailing from Kerala. A Post Graduate in English Language and Literature, Abhilash has authored 14 books and has written numerous poems, stories and articles for various international and Indian journals. His latest work is ‘Father, a collection of poems’, published globally by Wipf & Stock Publishers, Oregon, USA. His other renowned works in English include ‘The End of Wars’, a novel and ‘Everlasting Things are Incomplete’, a collection of poems. Dalamarmaram (The Rustle of Leaves), Paravakalude Vazhi (The Way of Birds), Raamazhayude Theerathu (On the banks of Night Rain), Sajalam (Aqueous) and Prapancha gaatha (The Ballad of the Universe) are some of his noted works in Malayalam, the official language of Kerala.

‘Prapancha gaadha’ won Kreatiff Silver Award for the second-best Novel in 2020. A recipient of multiple accolades, Abhilash has been awarded with KCBC (Kerala Catholic Bishops’ Council) Media Commission’s ‘Yuva Prathibha Award’ in 2014. His poem ‘Between the Islands’ was voted and enlisted among the best 100 poems in a global contest held by Poemhunter.com. A screen writer as well, Abhilash has written scripts for noted Sight and Sound Shows including ‘I Believe’ and ‘Ammamaram’, staged in a major venue in Kochi and were watched by over 50,000 people. He has also written scripts for various television programs and lyrics for about 50 songs, which have been recorded for various albums. He lives in Ernakulam, Kerala with his wife Sunitha and two sons Ezek and Izan.

When most of us think about the perfect writing environment, we always tend to look at the physical attributes: the ergonomic desk, the selected stationery, the ambient lighting, and perhaps that quintessential cup of coffee or a pot of tea. Well, these tangible elements surely facilitate the creative process, but they represent the sheer manifest content of what writers truly seek; but there is much more in the latent end of that.

The notion of ‘right space’ extends beyond the commonly understood physical limitations and penetrates the psychological sphere. Virginia Woolf’s ‘a room of one’s own’ supports the idea that ‘the room’ exists within one’s mind. For fiction writers especially, whose craft demands immersion in imagination and exploration of emotions, establishing a tranquil mental space becomes not just beneficial but essential. This mental sanctuary, accounting for perhaps most of what makes up an effective writing environment, serves as the true foundation upon which creative work flourishes, regardless of whether one writes at a fancy desk in a cozy hotel room, or during a commute on a crowded train.

The psychological dimensions of a writing space have been explored by numerous authors across generations. Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami describes his writing process as entering a different mental plane, stating in his memoir ‘What I Talk About When I Talk About Running’: ‘I’m not a person who can work well in noisy surroundings. I’m the kind who doesn’t need anything else when I write. I just need to be alone, in a kind of trance.’ This trance-like state exemplifies the mental space that supersedes physical requirements. Similarly, British author Zadie Smith has spoken about the necessity of creating ‘internal silence’ amidst external chaos. In her essay collection ‘Changing My Mind,’ Smith reflects on writing parts of her acclaimed novels in cafes and public spaces, noting that the ability to psychologically withdraw from immediate surroundings becomes a cultivated skill. American writer Jonathan Franze worked in a sparsely decorated office wearing noise-cancelling headphones—not merely to block sound, but to signal to his consciousness the transition into a creative mental territory. I have done most of my writing at cafes. Whether they are busy places in the heart of a South Asian city, or else peaceful places in Europe does not matter. My creative process triggers in the cafes. I have all adjustable tables, and multiple writing spaces in my houses in all the countries I share my year, but those tables are serving as beds for my laptop and notebooks. They have not done anything substantial when it comes to my creative process. These diverse approaches from writers across continents including, my own experience, underscore a universal truth: the physical writing environment serves as a gateway to the psychological space where creation occurs. Often, the mental space is the one that creates the perceptual set, as our brain does not differentiate what is imagined and what is real.

The cultivation of this mental landscape requires deliberate practice and often evolves throughout a writer’s career. Pitchaya Sudbanthad, a contemporary Thai author, wrote his debut novel, ‘Bangkok Wakes to Rain,’ in various locations across multiple continents, ranging from peaceful libraries to vibrant street food markets. ‘The constant changing of physical spaces,’ he notes in interviews, ‘forced me to anchor my writing not in location but in mental discipline.’ This sentiment echoes across cultures and eras. I am no exception, for the last two decades, I have been travelling in over fifty countries, and I always have a writing project with me—transit airports have witnessed me completing chapters. Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote some of his most notable work amid personal turmoil and challenging circumstances, demonstrating that internal sanctuary can withstand external adversity. American poet Mary Oliver frequently composed while walking through natural landscapes, carrying only minimal writing materials, allowing the rhythm of movement to shape her mental space. In today’s connected world, where diverse distractions compete for attention, the crafting of psychological space has become profoundly challenging, yet more vital than ever. Writers now must not only find physical quietude but also digital silence, creating boundaries that protect the fragile mental territory where imagination is birthed.

Mindfulness practices have emerged as valuable tools for contemporary fiction writers seeking to establish this essential mental space. British novelist Jeanette Winterson incorporates meditation into her daily writing routine, stating that ‘clearing the mind before writing allows characters to speak without the author’s ego intervening.’ Chinese-American author Yiyun Li describes in her memoir ‘Dear Friend, from My Life I Write to You in Your Life’ how periods of focused contemplation help her access the emotional depth required for fiction. Even Ernest Hemingway, writing in a pre-digital era, practiced his own form of mindfulness through his disciplined approach of stopping each day’s writing session at a point where he knew what would happen next—a technique that allowed his subconscious to remain engaged with the narrative during non-writing hours. During one of our chats, Somali-Eritrean writer Sulaiman Addonia told me that his writing happens in a subconscious state where he does not see the world judging him. So, he allowed that mental stage to set in, creating a creative space within. These can be diverse in the methods but share a common purpose: to create the psychological conditions conducive to sustained creative work. For today’s writers, techniques borrowed from mindfulness traditions offer structured approaches to establishing mental boundaries in environments increasingly hostile to focused attention.

The relationship between physical and psychological space manifests differently across cultures, influenced by varied philosophical traditions and material circumstances. Indian author Arundhati Roy famously took years to write her second novel, ‘The Ministry of Utmost Happiness,’ creating what she called ‘internal architecture’ before committing words to page. This concept reflects Eastern philosophical traditions that emphasize internal preparation and contemplation. Meanwhile, German writer Jenny Erpenbeck describes her writing process as requiring ‘emotional emptiness’—a state she achieves through rigorous scheduling and physical ritual. Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie transitions between continents and works in various environments, yet maintains that her true writing space exists in what she calls ‘emotional memory,’ a psychological territory she can access regardless of location. These diverse approaches reveal that while cultural contexts may shape how writers conceptualize their process, the fundamental need for psychological space transcends geographical boundaries. The universal challenge for contemporary fiction writers lies in reconciling traditional needs for mental sanctuary with modern realities that increasingly blur the boundaries between work, leisure, and creative endeavour.

In our current era, where productivity is often equated with constant output and digital connectivity has redefined presence, fiction writers face unprecedented challenges in establishing the mental space essential to their craft. The Finnish author Sofi Oksanen notes that “fiction requires a different kind of time—not the fragmented attention of social media, but deep, uninterrupted immersion.” This distinction highlights perhaps the most significant contemporary obstacle to creating psychological writing space: the fragmentation of attention and the commodification of time. Spanish novelist Javier Marías, before he died in 2022, spoke of writing as ‘a form of resistance against the acceleration of modern life,’ suggesting that the act of creating fiction has become inherently countercultural. For today’s writers across continents, establishing mental space often requires deliberate resistance against societal pressures toward constant productivity and connectivity.

The ideal environment for writing fiction is internal—a carefully built and guarded space within one’s mind. The physical aspects of my writing space—from the desk to the coffee cup—act as tools and rituals that help me access the boundless world of my imagination. As American author George Saunders once told: ‘Don’t worry about the room. Make room in your mind, and the words will find their place.’

Pramudith D Rupasinghe

About the Author

Pramudith D Rupasinghe is a Sri Lankan writer and humanitarian. His literary works predominantly unfold in settings beyond his native Sri Lanka, for which he earned the name ‘Writer Without Borders. His work of fiction, ‘Bayan,’ set in pre-conflict Ukraine, won the Golden Aster Prize for Global Literature in 2020 and was longlisted for the 2023 Paris Book Festival. Rupasinghe’s works have been translated into several languages, including Sinhalese, Burmese,  German, Spanish, Russian, Polish, Bulgarian and French. He has also dedicated two decades to humanitarian work, drawing inspiration for his writing from his missions to Africa, Europe, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East. He is known for his thought-provoking narratives that delve into the human psyche, cultural identities, and global experiences. 

 

Fiction possesses a remarkable ability to heal us in a world increasingly constructed of narratives. As we navigate lives shaped by social media personas, political storytelling, and corporate mythmaking, literature offers us both escape and confrontation with the truth. Fiction paradoxically becomes one of our most reliable tools for making sense of our fabricated realities.

When we immerse ourselves in stories, we aren’t merely retreating from reality—we engage with it through a different lens. Fiction creates a safe distance from which to examine painful truths that might otherwise be too raw to process directly. This psychological buffer allows us to confront difficult emotions, traumatic experiences, and existential questions.

Consider how dystopian novels like “1984” or “The Handmaid’s Tale” provide frameworks for understanding authoritarian control and manipulation of truth. These fictional worlds illuminate patterns in our own society that might otherwise remain invisible to us. Through stories, we develop a vocabulary for experiences that defies easy categorization in our everyday discourse.

Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami once noted that even the strangest fiction must retain a core of believability, a certain resonance with reality. Emotional authenticity, not factual accuracy, is the focus of this reality. A well-crafted story resonates because it speaks to something true within us, even as it presents impossible scenarios or fantastical elements.

Our modern existence increasingly blurs the line between authentic experience and constructed narrative. We curate our lives for social media, presenting polished versions of ourselves that become fictions of their own. Political discourse relies more on compelling narratives than factual accuracy. Corporate branding creates mythologies around products and services. We live surrounded by fictions masquerading as reality.

Fiction helps us reclaim agency within this landscape. By consciously engaging with invented worlds, we develop critical faculties that help us identify the constructed nature of our supposed “real world.” Reading fiction enhances our empathy by allowing us to inhabit perspectives different from our own, and this empathic capacity becomes a tool for piercing through the falsehoods that divide us.

There’s something profoundly healing about recognising the fictions we’ve internalised. Many of us operate according to narratives we’ve absorbed unconsciously—about success, relationships, identity, and purpose. Fiction can make these implicit stories explicit, allowing us to examine and revise them. A character’s journey might illuminate our own self-deceptions or reveal alternatives to the stories we’ve been living by.

Art therapists have long recognised the therapeutic power of fictional storytelling. Creating or engaging with narrative allows us to externalize internal conflicts, making them more manageable. We can project aspects of ourselves onto characters, working through our own struggles through their fictional journeys. This process provides emotional catharsis and cognitive clarity.

Fiction’s healing capacity extends to collective trauma as well. Societies process historical wounds through literature, film, and other narrative arts. Stories help communities integrate painful histories into their collective identity without being defined solely by suffering. They offer frameworks for reconciliation and renewal.

In our hyper-connected yet isolated world, fiction also provides a sense of connection. Reading a novel is an intimate experience, a communion between writer and reader across time and space. We recognize our own struggles in fictional characters, realizing we’re not alone in our confusion, pain, or yearning.

Perhaps most importantly, fiction reminds us that alternative realities are possible. If our present reality feels constraining or false, stories show us that different worlds can be imagined and created. This imaginative capacity is essential for personal and social transformation.

The poet Muriel Rukeyser wrote that “the universe is made of stories, not atoms.” If our reality is indeed constructed of narratives, then engaging with fiction isn’t escapism—it’s a vital engagement with the very fabric of existence. By reading, writing, and sharing stories, we participate in the ongoing creation of meaning.

Fiction transcends mere escapism; through stories, we can confront the fictions imposed upon us, challenge narratives that no longer serve us, and pen new possibilities for our individual and collective future.

Pramudith D Rupasinghe

About the Author

Pramudith D Rupasinghe is a Sri Lankan writer and humanitarian. His literary works predominantly unfold in settings beyond his native Sri Lanka, for which he earned the name ‘Writer Without Borders. His work of fiction, ‘Bayan,’ set in pre-conflict Ukraine, won the Golden Aster Prize for Global Literature in 2020 and was longlisted for the 2023 Paris Book Festival. Rupasinghe’s works have been translated into several languages, including Sinhalese, Burmese,  German, Spanish, Russian, Polish, Bulgarian and French. He has also dedicated two decades to humanitarian work, drawing inspiration for his writing from his missions to Africa, Europe, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East. He is known for his thought-provoking narratives that delve into the human psyche, cultural identities, and global experiences. 

The Kremlin, the White House, and Buckingham Palace are places that resemble a basic factor of civilization, namely the concept of Power. Each of those locations is a center of power that can not only change its inhabitants and the country they are located in, but the whole of humanity in split seconds. The same magnitude is held by the Vatican, Mecca, and Sacred Tooth Relic Temple of Kandy, but in an entirely different context. Wall Street, the London Stock Exchange, and Beijing Financial Street carry the power of commerce. As each locality seems to have an influence larger than its physical size, it begs the question of what a Tea Shop holds in terms of power.

A proper description of what kind of a Tea shop is subject to the discussion is needed as a prelude. In most parts of Asia, one will not miss a small boutique where people sit, read a newspaper, or play a game while enjoying a cup of tea. In the not-so-distant past, each village had one such entity where you could also buy your groceries. The most important thing about such tea shops is that they functioned as the place where people gathered to talk, make conversations, reveal messages, pass news, exchange ideas, seek clarifications, give opinions, engage in heated debate, and argue on many topics from religion to politics. There was a spicer side that dealt with the teashop’s surroundings with its visitors having a knack for a little gossip about the village dwellers and local celebrities. While the establishment’s primary purpose was to make profits, it gave rise to a well-sustained ecosystem that included everyone in a village. It was the postman’s break point, a policeman’s information center, and the local hub of trade. Undoubtedly, a teashop owner enjoyed an enormous civil power, yet without the ecosystem of its visitors, those powers meant nothing.

Although times have changed and the tea shops have evolved from their ultra traditional outlooks becoming more chic, clean, and perhaps changed their palate, none of their functionalities have changed. Tea shops are still a central hub of communications where People still gather to carry out civilizations.

While one has to agree wholeheartedly that no Tea shop in the world could push the red button to fire a nuclear missile, announce a strict religious decree, impose a new tax, or declare wars, the tea shops really do hold the power to change the outcome of any such decisions. The crowd that gathers is who pays tax, who would take a gun and go to war, who would donate to the religious establishments, pray to the gods the leaders say are true, and perhaps start a revolution. No, they are not just the foot soldiers who carry out the orders, but an integral and powerful part of that power chain. What they talk, the opinions they create, the arguments they make reach not just the households but an entire network of grassroots.  

High on a cuppa, two ordinary people could give birth to a revolutionary idea that can easily ignite a nation’s patriotism, nationalism, or even racism. Perhaps a shared grievance could become a rallying call for a nationwide strike, a concentrated boycott movement, or an armed rebellion. A scribbled note in a tea shop could be the lyrics of a song that touches the hearts and minds of a generation. Conversations made, arguments sustained, debates deliberated, lyrics sung, notes scribbled, anger expressed, emotions shared among the ordinary folks in a teashop thus carry a weight that outweighs brewing a storm inside a teacup instead creating a butterfly effect which could cause a violent storm. In Chaos Theory, it is said that a butterfly flapping its wings in one place could, in theory, alter atmospheric conditions that eventually lead to a tornado or hurricane in another location. That is the magnitude of power a Teashop and its patrons hold. One has to look at a teashop in the same spirit, merit, mindset, and relevance. The pillars of power rest on national parliaments, presidential places, political party headquarters, militant garrisons, tech hubs, and wealthy financial centers, all come down to what takes place inside a teashop. 

Times have changed and the inhabitants of teashops have evolved. Whether they carry a Mamoty on the shoulder or a sleek laptop, or whether they drink a sugary plaintea or a fancy Matcha iced latte, it will be the teashops and their visitors who will decide how the world functions and the direction of the civilisation. Any ruler, political or otherwise, who fails to comprehend the intricate, unparalleled, unique nature of this power center is prone to end up being just another footnote of history. 

About the Writer

With a master’s in International relations, Dhanuka’s expertise is in Geopolitics and Geoeconomics, among other things. In addition to being the Executive Editor of The Asian Reviews magazine, he works as a guest writer in the Chicago-based Armenian Mirror-Spectator on Caucuses-related geopolitical issues and contributes as a columnist and a guest speaker to the Indian-based Force Security magazine.

He was a grassroots Politician, a political campaign Director, and a council member of a local government body in a small town in rural Sri Lanka. Before entering active politics, he led his foundation in supporting youth and the underprivileged. Currently, he consults youth groups on political activism and general political trends.

He is a poet, blogger, and an enthusiastic climate and social activist who strongly believes in making a better world for future generations. A patriotic Sri Lankan who is a father of a loving daughter.

Carl Sagan (1934–1996) was undeniably one of the most significant scientists and thinkers of the 20th century. An astronomer, astrophysicist, cosmologist, and author, he dedicated his life to promoting science and advancing critical thinking, inspiring millions of people to gaze at the stars with awe yet seek truth through logic and scientific inquiry.

Sagan, a pioneering researcher in astrobiology and the study of planetary systems, played a key role in the development of NASA missions, such as the Voyager program, which carried the famous “Golden Record”—a collection of human expressions meant for extraterrestrial civilizations. He studied the atmospheres of Venus and Mars, introduced the concept of the “greenhouse effect,” and highlighted the possibility of life beyond Earth.

Sagan believed that science should not be confined to academic circles but rather be accessible to everyone. His book Cosmos (1980) became an international bestseller and was adapted into a television series of the same name, which captivated audiences of all ages worldwide for decades. Even today, this series remains one of the most iconic, making scientific concepts understandable to the general public. His work Pale Blue Dot (1994) serves as a poignant reminder of our place in the universe, our humility and also greatness, as well as our responsibility to protect our unique planet.

Beyond being a brilliant scientist, Sagan was also a staunch advocate for peace, environmental protection, and human rights. He defended rationalism against superstition and warned against the dangers of pseudoscience and public manipulation. His deep concern for humanity’s future is reflected in his book The Demon-Haunted World (1995), where he cautioned against the potential decline of critical thinking in society.

Carl Sagan left us in 1996, leaving behind an invaluable legacy. His impact continues to inspire new generations of scientists, thinkers, and intellectuals. His legacy is not only in his scientific discoveries but also in his passion for truth, knowledge, and understanding the universe.

As he famously wrote:
“Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.”

Carl Sagan’s Prophecy

The words of Carl Sagan ring as true today as they did thirty years ago when he wrote them shortly before his passing:

“I have a foreboding of an America in my children’s or grandchildren’s time—when the United States is a service and information economy; when nearly all manufacturing industries have slipped away to other countries; when awesome technological powers are in the hands of a very few, and no one representing the public interest can even grasp the issues; when people have lost the ability to set their own agendas or question those in authority; when, clutching our crystals and nervously consulting our horoscopes, our critical faculties in decline, unable to distinguish what feels good from what is true, we slide, almost without noticing, back into superstition and darkness…”

As humanity advances through an era of extreme technological evolution and globalization, Carl Sagan’s words are more relevant than ever. Three decades ago, the distinguished astronomer and thinker warned of a world where technological power is concentrated in the hands of a few while critical thinking and scientific logic fade in favor of mass conformity. Today, his predictions do not only apply to America but to the entire planet, which functions as a “global village.”

Sagan clearly foresaw the shift of manufacturing to other countries, a phenomenon that now affects the whole world. Economic dependence on multinational corporations and tech giants has created inequalities and a loss of control over local economies. Nations no longer maintain self-sufficiency in production and rely on decisions made by a few major companies.

His concerns about the concentration of technological power have also been fully validated. Today, global giants like Google, Meta, Tencent, and Alibaba control the flow of information and data worldwide. Technological knowledge and resources are held by a select few, while governments struggle to impose regulations to protect public interests.

Sagan warned that society would lose its ability to question authority and hold those in power accountable, leading to the erosion of critical thinking. This prediction extends far beyond the United States. Misinformation, conspiracy theories, and a lack of education in critical reasoning have created a global society that blindly consumes and absorbs information without processing it. People often choose to believe what “feels right” rather than seeking truth.

One of the most alarming phenomena is the resurgence of superstition and the rise of pseudoscience. From conspiracy theories that touch on every aspect of daily life, we see a growing trend of returning to pre-scientific beliefs and doctrines. These ideas, wrapped in an aura of mystery that disguises their lack of evidence, spread faster than ever through social media, creating a new form of obscurantism.

The loss of critical thinking and the concentration of power in the hands of a few have weakened democracy. In many countries, citizens’ frustration with the political system has led to the rise of authoritarian regimes that control information and restrict freedoms. Democracy remains fragile and requires continuous support through education and the promotion of scientific thought.

A Global Challenge Ahead

Overall, Sagan’s work serves as a warning about the dangers of scientific ignorance and the retreat from critical thinking. It underscores the importance of education and awareness in maintaining a healthy and progressive society.

While Sagan used America as an example, his warning is directed at all of humanity. Our world stands at a critical crossroads. Will we continue to promote science, education, and critical thinking, or will we regress into an era dominated by superstition and ignorance?

How we manage technology, information, and science will determine whether we move toward a brighter future or slide backward—into a modern and far more destructive age of “superstition and darkness.” A new kind of witch hunt with disastrous consequences for all humanity.

This choice—to embrace light over darkness—is a collective one, and the future of humanity depends on it, as we all also highlight at Writers Capital International Foundation. Fortunately, true leaders are still here and it is our duty to embrace their vision; one of them, undeniably being the Founder and President of WCIF, Prof. Preeth Padmanabhan Nambiar, poet, educationist and ardent humanitarian, whose vision of one world and the Heritage Village “ Lovedale”[1] resonate deep within a lot of people across the world.

The question is: Will we heed his warning in time?

Sources

Carl Sagan’s prophetic statement comes from his book The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark, published in 1995.

Sagan highlights the paradox of a society increasingly dependent on science and technology while its citizens lack an understanding of these fields. He warns that this situation is a “recipe for disaster,” as the combination of ignorance and power can lead to severe consequences.

Additionally, Sagan expresses concern about the decline in the quality of media content, the lack of meaningful information, and the spread of superstition and pseudoscience. These observations emphasize the need to promote critical thinking and scientific literacy in society.

Bibliographical References

• The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark (1995)
• Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space (1994)
• Cosmos (1980)

About the Author: Irene Doura-Kavadia

Linguist specializing in Contrastive and Computational Linguistics (MA/MSc), author, and translator. Founder and CEO of the Academy of Languages, Translation & Informatics, Secretary-General of the Writers Capital International Foundation (under the UN Civil Society umbrella), and Editor-in-Chief of Writers’ International Edition. Board Member of the World Philosophical Forum (Greece), Language & Global Communication Ambassador at Who is Who International Academy & Awards, Executive Member of Women Leaders, Founder of the Women’s Network for Cooperation and Support, and Member of multiple international literary, educational, and linguistic committees. She also serves as a Jury Member and Director for foreign authors in literary competitions at Accademia Tiberina, Rome, an Executive Member of Cattedra delle Donne (under the UN auspices), and a Jury Member for the Sergio Camellini International Excellence Award in Modena, Italy. Additionally, she is a journalist at Crown Legacy in Asia, llenic Mdia Group, Greece and an Education Advisor for the Municipality of Palaio Faliro, Athens.

“Each relationship between two persons is absolutely unique. That is why you cannot love two people the same. It simply is not possible. You love each person differently because of who they are and the uniqueness that they draw out of you.”

William P. Young,

Hundreds of such beautiful quotes are scattered all over the usage among us humans. Irrespective of what each of them stands for or its truthfulness, the nature of relationships and everything around them is subject to change. It has been on a constant evolution from its inception. The times, society, climate, and rise of religions and cultures all impacted the very definition of what relationships meant. In the era of information humanity lives in, relationships have reached a completely strange plateau. A new reality called virtual space has emerged turning the whole thing upside down.

The most basic component that governs a relationship is the forming of one. There have been tens of traditional ways of meeting a potential partner ranging from classic Victorian practices to 21st centry chic ways. Out of the buffet of relationships forming, a few could be highlighted for comparison’s sake. From volunteering for a social cause to hanging out at a dog park to flirting over a bar counter to introductions through mutual friends to a dancing class, attending a social event, working out at a gymnasium to yoga class have been commonly used by relationship seekers to meet a partner. The rise of big tech paved the way for dating through social media in this century. All of the above are tested and proven methods. One can not ignore relationships born out of accidental events, too. In some cultures, relationships are arranged by the parents’ initiative through the services of matchmakers with the end objective of marriage.

The classical era of relationships is either reaching its lifespan or seems to be unable to survive the rise of a new phenomenon. This so-called new trend is causing further diminishment in the value, usage, and effectiveness of the old-school methods. Post-2010 saw the rise of a new titan in the sphere of relationships –  namely, Dating Apps. From Tinder to Bumble to Grinder to Bado, hundreds of Dating apps are there catering to different interests, demographics, and relationship goals. From cold Alaska to Ouagadougou in the hot Burkina Faso to tropical Colombo to the tiny Pacific island of Vanuatu, every human settlement is using dating apps to connect with one another. While marriages in many population centers are rapidly decreasing, the number of users of dating apps is increasing a fewfold every single year. That is a self-explanatory situation and seems to have an inverse correlation.

While the user experience is on an individual basis, depending on intent, context, and culture, one has to give credit for its role in revolutionizing the world as we know it. It begs the question of why a person would opt to go online instead of a more authentic and meaningful in-person moment. Irrespective of cultural constructs and societal norms, even in the most conservative countries where traditional relationships are the order of the day, dating apps have taken the lead. But why?  Among the many possible reasons, there seems to be an undeclared political landscape that governs the relationships in the virtual spaces. Not necessarily the much-contested politics of gender but an intense competition for supremacy among individuals beyond gender. Something we could identify as “Politics of Relationships”.  What is the nature of the virtual space that resembles the powerplays in the physical world, though? 

In this space, the social security number, passport details, and marriage certificates are not prerequisites to prove who a person really is, allowing an individual to become anyone at all. Everyone projects who they want to be, and they make up stories to suit their interest to match their profile and to make headway to the relationship objective. You could be Shakespeare, Angelina Joli, Andrea Bocelli, Rajini Kanth, or simply your childhood hero. Who is behind the face could always be far from reality. There is no doubt that there are tens of those who go by their real details and are their real self. However, the need to present a higher version of oneself as an achiever, go-getter, successful human, and someone worthy of another’s time and attention is fundamental to this.

Potraying who you think you are as a way to get who you fancy or what you fancy needs more than a fake profile or cropped-up pictures. In this battle for supremacy, one needs to iron out doubts, consolidate power, and allow one’s influence to grow in the other’s universe. A regular sales pitch, upselling, over promising, sugar coating, sweetening are all common tactics used time and again by most of the relationship seekers. Irrespective of one’s intention of either scamming someone, tying a knot at some point in life, or simply going to bed, this powerplay is in full swing.

What are the principles relating to a sphere of activity concerning power and status in a relationship between a woman and a man or otherwise? What goes inside the mind of a man or a woman, what do they plan to achieve, and how do they assess their counterparts? If mind games are high-end play, there are a lot of factors one needs to take into consideration carefully. An easy yet erroneous way to sum up this would be to call it manipulation and throw it down the gauntlet. But this power politics, it is not the gender, the wealth, and the social status that decides the winner. Surely, they play a distinct role of their own merit but are not necessarily the deciding factors. Rather, the psychological endurance, tolerance, arsenal of words, and stories in hand are all that matters. The charm, rhythm, and not losing the focus and losing the way is fundamental. Winning at any cost or a tactical loss for a strategic win are observed within the dating app users.

Virtual space is undoubtedly a walk into Mordor. Surviving the unknown amidst uncertainties is a Herculean task. Simply because one will find every type of individual just like a real society lurking freely. There are the creepy, the nice, the dangerous, the adventurous, the lying, the cheating, the desperate, the needy, the clingy, the pretentious, the romantic, the lost, you name it. Wandering in this mysterious universe where many fates crisscross while all of them lead to the very same destination is a thing that only virtual beings would understand. Behind every virtual mask, there is a story stemming from real life. Those stories vary from sad to childhood traumas, and some have no idea why they even exist. Seeking validation and recognition to win control over a mutual space ungoverned by normal rule brings the individuals to pursue the basic rules of politics. An undeclared call to action driven by the need for supremacy, control, and power. In this space, the traditionally established patriarchal laws do not work. No one cares whether one is a conservative, traditionalist, or an open-minded libertarian. It is one’s choice, and one can find birds of a feather flocking together even in this domain. It has its own set of rules and norms, which are individually based. Although an ungoverned space, it is intended to end up in a safe space and walk like gentlemen and women even if a common ground is unable to be established. 

If one looks at relationships in a general perception, the popular narrative is that women are in demand. That is either a common misconception or a half-truth. The level of needs of each of the genders differs. At the onset, men want physical pleasure, and there is high competition for that among men. Within that playfield, women are in very high demand. But if one cares to look into the space expansively, a different truth emerges. Comparatively, a higher number of women are out there looking for stable relationships that could end up in some kind of commitment. The contenders for that segment will be fewer men, whereas so many women could be competing with each other. So this tendency tilts the balance where men are in demand within that playfield. Will end this with a quote from the American author Ambrose Bierce.

“ Politics: A strife of interests masquerading as a contest of principles. The conduct of public affairs for private advantage “

The new meaning for relationships has essentially come down to ‘ interests masquerading as a contest of principles”. The time of Romeo courting Juliet is history from another era. 

DHANUKA DICKWELLA

About the Writer

With a master’s in International relations, Dhanuka’s expertise is in Geopolitics and Geoeconomics, among other things. In addition to being the Executive Editor of The Asian Reviews magazine, he works as a guest writer in the Chicago-based Armenian Mirror-Spectator on Caucuses-related geopolitical issues and contributes as a columnist and a guest speaker to the Indian-based Force Security magazine.

He was a grassroots Politician, a political campaign Director, and a council member of a local government body in a small town in rural Sri Lanka. Before entering active politics, he led his foundation in supporting youth and the underprivileged. Currently, he consults youth groups on political activism and general political trends.

He is a poet, blogger, and an enthusiastic climate and social activist who strongly believes in making a better world for future generations. A patriotic Sri Lankan who is a father of a loving daughter.