Imagine a lush green park like one in your neighborhood, where children play in the fountain and couples walk
to enjoy the afternoon breeze. Perhaps this park was constructed as a dedication to a local hero, whose statue stands tall in silver hue.
Now imagine that one day, your lovely park, where you kicked a ball or flew a kite for the first time, became the site of the world's largest
single catastrophe: 150,000 casualties in less than five minutes. The water still runs quietly in the small stream below, but the willows above will be weeping forever.
Let's call this park Urakami, where shards of glass and scraps of chinese pottery lay still in the earth below,
and, if you can, imagine that a bittersweet smell fills the midday air. Perhaps the bitterness comes from the
foolhardy "calculations" and the fragrance from the rising daisies that defy them.
Here is the smell of both disease and recovery, and
it both crushes the heart and warms the soul at the same time.
Perhaps you see the monuments. They are hard to miss, of course, as they honor those whose
passing came one early August day. And the curated exhibits are close by, replete with damage
videos streaming for both young and old alike. One man narrates the cremation of his mother,
father and baby sister, tasks he took upon himself, though he was but a boy of 14 at the time.
Imagine his burns, which were and still are severe, but try and believe him when he says it was
his duty. The prison that stood just below the bomb's detonation point (hundreds of meters above
the ground), can you picture it in your mind? It was incinerated in mere seconds. The pictures -
before and after - are here too, for comparison.
What of the solitary men? They wander the parks and museums; can you feel their grief, though they may not speak or even look up from their trance.
Perhaps you can imagine the things they might say if you had the good fortune to speak with them, but for a moment.
Alas, that good fortune will not come, and the cold stares will be all the communication you take home with you.
You are white and do not belong here.
But wait...for a moment...do what may seem impossible but may square the unsquarable circle...imagine, the cold stares are only in your mind.
