A MOMENT OF REFLECTION
by Lilia M. Fiallo
With so many international protests, I listened on the radio about the songs: The four babys and happy the four, I had a storm in my head and I was furious. Last night, I decided to review my assessment and analyze what is inside that clear degradation, and I could see the true truth that those words contain: in a society of double moral, that ignore and surreptitiously, turn four face to the other side, as if to say cynicism, what a scandal, when reality is in front.
Crouched the extravagances without laws that are met, without moral guidance, much less interested in any authority, rides the cynicism with the blindfold, the ears covered and the mouth sealed.
If we are alert taking care of the four sides of our children, aware that we have never know them, and unpleasant episodes happen, what will it be if we are not attentive and we do not teach and guide them and we do not see reality? The unexpected result is atrocious.
By immaturity, ignorance or foolishness, girls, young women and women, run after public figures, celebrities, possessors of wealth or, for fun, abandoned to their fate promising future, without sense, mixes liquor, hallucinogens and sex without control, without self respect, or dignity, passing over life, to result in a sea of tears, with self-esteem below zero and top it off, reaching pregnancies not wanted. The awakening shakes the charm before the reality, when we find public opinions represented in songs like: The four babys and happy the four.
Although years pass, lustrums or centuries, the laws of life can’t be altered, and no one should pass over life, because by logic, the universe has an order. The traditional thing with the civilized world is to live under the natural laws: The man is the one who pretends, conquers a woman! The woman will always be an island to conquer.
Women is like a precious jeweled whose value depends on the place she positions herself. (Author: Jorge Arce)
Complementing the above, in days gone by I saw on television a retrograde program, in which the presenter and his group of people, enjoyed themselves in the body of a kind and showed off their domain. As the day progressed a young woman appeared down the stairs of the stage where the show was taking place, smiling and cheerful; she wore a light-colored vest, and a long skirt to the ankles of dark color. The tendentious phrases between jokes and smiles enjoyed the moment.
The minutes passed and while everyone enjoyed they invited the girl to a test who gladly accepted. It was a challenge. Supported inside a wooden box, with a lid that had two circle-shaped approximately 20 centimeters in diameter one on the top and the other at the bottom. In that container was the expectant girl, ignoring what awaited her.
How is it? They ask her and she responds well! Well! –she felt a little nervous. Minutes later, they say: what do you feel? And she responds: like tickling, something that moves, yes! Yes! They are like little animals! Suddenly she panic and screams: They really are little animals! All outside laugh while she keeps screaming. Desperate they heard her say: get me out of here! Get me out of here! The boys take their time, laugh, enjoy the time, and…Finally feel mercy!
The raise the lid with all expectation, enjoying every minutes while for her, that episode was eternal, I imagine; she wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she did not know what to do; but for them, it was another feat achieved against the opposite gender.
The girl came out of that sinister box transformed sweaty and with her face flushed, but it seems that she realized where she was and that they were recording her, that there would be many people who were watching and she gains composure.
What was strange to me was to believe that they had done magic with her skirt, because when the girl entered that container, the skirt was dark, and now, she had small white branches that moved as if she were the one doing the movement, wanting to dance…Then I thought: but how, if she seems anxious and restless, what’s up?… I had not realized the tremendous evil.
No, they were not bouquets, nor flowers of any kind; they were little white mice. A small cage they had brought a terrifying amount of these and had thrown them through the holes in the lid of the box where the girl was. As the minutes progressed, the mice ran though her body without compassion until she realized it. Such is the cynicism of one of the young people, who smiling and took one and placed it on her chest in the middle of the protuberant cleavage, without the slightest sense of respect or consideration, while she seems confuse and did not know what to do.
One by one they were placing the white animals inside the cage, with an amazing calmness and then the girl ran away.
By situations like this, by billions of creatures that are not loved, foolish or perhaps without maturity there are men who take rights against all.
Lilia M. Fiallo was born in Bogotá, Colombia, where, between tasks and free time, she found a place to write about subjects, somehow forgotten by others. With gold letters engraved in her memory, she began her working life, in the heart of the technical part, of the air traffic control of her native country. In the midst of aeronautical phraseology and codes, the world of aviation gave her one of the highest experiences, because of the precision required by this craft, where a single mistake could cost many lives. It is there, where in her concern to communicate her ideas, she begins to write with dedication, themes a little relegated by society, the Church and the State. Discovering a truth that nobody wants to talk about, but much more real and everyday, than it seems. It is thus, as it appears, her first work, “Parir por parir”.
You can find her book at for sale in Amazon.