In the world, there is a saying that the rich become richer and the poor become poorer. They say the world is a jungle where those with the bigger fists hold all the power, while the smallest ones are left with nothing. This isn't a new phenomenon; even in ancient times, the rules were the same. Time may change things, but the essence remains. In the past, bloodshed would settle disputes, whereas today, the law ostensibly serves as a protector, but in reality, it often favors those with strong backgrounds and money. Even in cases of violence or wrongdoing, if one has wealth and influence, they can manipulate the system to their advantage. If not, however, the consequences can be devastating.
In my life, the thing I cherished most was my family. We lived a simple life, without much privilege or influence, but we had happiness, love, and all the essentials of a normal family. My father was a wise man and a civil servant, while my mother was a dedicated housewife. I also had a little sister, whom I adored more than anything.
But everything changed during a family trip when we had an accident that altered the course of our lives forever. In that tragic moment, we lost our parents, and my little sister lost her legs. The future we envisioned for our family vanished in an instant. The most precious things in my life—my parents and our dreams—were gone, leaving me utterly lost.
The only thing that kept me going was the promise I made to myself: to protect my little sister for the rest of my life. Determined to seek justice for our loss, I immersed myself in investigating the accident. However, as I probed deeper, I uncovered unsettling details. The day of the accident, we were driving down the right lane of a relatively empty road when a high-speed car suddenly veered directly into us. The reckless driver, desperate to avoid hitting a dump truck, had slammed into the side of our vehicle and fled the scene without looking back.
When I examined the investigation report, I couldn't ignore the facts: the car had been speeding and the driver was undoubtedly under the influence. Despite this evidence, the authorities insisted that the case was closed. My heart burned with rage when I realized that no one was willing to listen. I thought that if I presented them with proof, they would seek justice on our behalf, but instead, they suppressed my efforts, reminding me of my "place" and warning me not to continue my investigation, or there would be dire consequences.
From that day, hope for justice faded. If fairness truly existed, why was I subjected to such suffering? The worst blow came when I enlisted the help of a private detective, a close friend of my father. Through him, I found clues that pointed to the fact that the driver responsible was a wealthy and influential person—his son, to be exact. Although I had gathered significant evidence, I knew deep down that the authorities would either ignore it or create further obstacles for us.
My mind raced with thoughts of the next steps I could take when the detective, sensing my frustration, cautioned me. "Kartik," he said, "don't investigate this further. These people are powerful, and if we push them, they'll make our lives a nightmare. You have a promising future ahead of you, and Jasmine needs you. Let it go. Think of it as a tragic accident and leave it behind."
He touched my shoulder, a gesture of comfort, but it felt more like a weight pressing down on me. I knew if I didn't pursue this, the pain of losing my parents and the injustice would linger in my heart. Yet, I had a sister to protect—her safety took precedence over revenge.
After countless sleepless nights in torment, I ultimately decided to leave the city with Jasmine. I wanted to distance ourselves from the place where we had lost everything. When I entered her room, I locked the door behind me and said, "Jasmine, we're leaving in two days. Pack your bags and make sure you have everything."
Silence enveloped the room before I heard her soft sobs. "Why did this happen to us, brother? Why?" she cried. My heart sank as I realized she'd overheard my conversations with the detective. I sat down in front of her door, tears streaming down my face. I was torn—the longing for justice clashed with the need to protect my sister.
After contemplating for what felt like hours, I knew I couldn't give her a clear answer. No one would stand up for us, not in a world where power triumphs over the truth. This realization flooded me with despair, and the tears continued to fall. As I faced the paradox of our reality, the silent cries for justice and the responsibility of care weighed heavily upon my heart, forging an indelible brand that would stay with me forever.