DRONE 1: A NIGHT IN ARGENTINA
Julia was scrolling her phone and all she could see was news about people protesting in Buenos Aires. They were being liberated with force, and they did not seem to like it.
The last few days shocked her as she felt like the days of the Military Junta could return.
It was her understanding that it would not be long before Libertarian Milei turned into another dictator.
Now this bad day was finally over but it was marked with a bad omen. How can you shed light on the state’s crimes during a moonless night?
She started to spiral but she had a quick fix in her drawer. A smoke will make everything easier to digest and then this night will be in the past.
She took out the pack of cigarettes and walked onto the balcony. It had been some time since she had a smoke so the cigarette pack started to rot but this night it will finally be consumed.
She lit the cigarette and started smoking. Just as she was about to exhale the smoke she noticed an object flying in the sky.
It was as black as the sky and that is why she wouldn’t have noticed it if it was not for those green lights appearing from the camera inside the drone.
The drone was taking rounds of her apartment complex and it had already scanned her. This was her first interaction with the new state. It was about to come up for another round.
She got nervous and was wondering how she could convince the authorities that she was not a threat.
Is there any pose that shows how obedient you are? Any smile?
She was also unhappy that the state caught her when she was not at her best. Stressed out and smoking a pack of cheap cigarettes.
The good thing was that the drone completed its second round before she could worry too much.
DRONE 2: AN AFTERNOON IN HARYANA
It had been a long week for Akash as he had to cover the entire farmers’ protest. Did these people have to start their march during Valentine’s week?
His sweetheart lived in Delhi, and now he was wondering if he would be able to reach Delhi in time or not.
The farmers were driving at a great pace, so he couldn’t blame them. If the farmers succeeded at reaching their destination, then it would be a win for him too.
If they failed, then he would have to buy an apology gift. Right now, they were in Ambala and had a great way ahead of them.
He was maintaining a safe distance from the farmers’ groups because his media organization had defamed them whenever they had started protesting.
Everyone does something for a living. The farmers grow crops and the journalists grow lies.
The protesting groups made a stop to have lunch and the smell of north Indian cuisine won Akash over.
“Let’s capture this,” he signaled to the cameraman.
The cameraman started capturing the langar. The camaraderie of the protestors touched their hearts.
Every protestor had covered their face with a handkerchief because they were worried about the police using tear gas.
Now they were taking those off and starting to enjoy the langar. As soon as the last handkerchief was loosened, the authorities sent a drone that dropped tear gas shells on the protestors.
Akash was confused about what was happening because he didn’t see any police. How did the police drop tear gas without being here?
There was great confusion and rush. The protestors were falling back with their comrades. Akash felt suffocated and irritated by the gas. He tried to cover his face and started looking for his colleague.
Nothing was visible, but he was sure that he would find him in a few minutes as soon as the smoke settled.
The smoke started to disappear, and the first thing he noticed was how the delicious food had now turned toxic because of the gas.
He knew that he would be covering a fight between the police and the cops. However, he thought that maybe the police would fire rubber bullets, use batons, or use water cannons.
He could never imagine that the Haryana police would use a drone to shell tear gas on protestors. This was new India. This was Modi’s India.
His colleague returned from the crowd. “What the hell! Where were you?” Akash punched him.
“Don’t worry! I got some good footage,” he patted Akash on the back.
DRONE 3: AN EVENING IN RAFAH, PALESTINE
The situation in Rafah was tense. This was the only place that the Palestinians could call their home as they had been pushed to the edge of the strip.
A boy wearing a blue colored jersey was playing with a plastic ball near his family’s tent. His father who was sleeping earlier came out to check on his kids. Abdul was 5 years old and his sister Fatima was 3 years old.
Their father was trying to be strong but he knew that their future was uncertain. He didn’t know how long they would live without being blown to bits.
“Father look at the sky. Is that a bomber?” Abdul pointed at the sky.
His father held both his kids and started observing the sky. It was a black-colored metallic drone. Since it had not dropped any bombs yet, it was probably a surveillance drone.
“No, it is just an eagle. A bird!” he sat down in the mud with his kids.
“Abbu, why do we have more Eagles in Gaza this season? Where are these migrating from?” Fatima asked.
“Possibly America, Europe, or India. Birds around the world love Palestine that is why they visit us,” he answered with a grin.
“What do these big birds hunt?” Abdul put his hand on his head.
His father wanted to say that these eagles hunt nothing but their people. The worst sin of these eagles is that they let the prey know that there is hope.
If you move to the south then you will be safe. Now the south is dangerous, move to Rafah and you will be safe. Now Rafah is dangerous too!
The old man didn’t have an answer and he started coughing. He was suffocated by the damp smell of the camps.
“Eagles hunt fish, small birds, and other animals,” he answered.
“That’s interesting Abbu. I hope they find their next meal soon,” Abdul smiled.
About the author
Chirag Saxena is the author of ‘Reinventing the Wheel’ and a content marketer by profession. He takes great interest in philosophical questions.