Right now I stand in the Holocaust Tower, located in the basement of Jewish Museum Berlin. Nestled in the darkest corner that’s fit only for one person, I allow words to flood me faster than I can write. The shadows from the nearby rustling trees dance right above me, creating shadows and blocking the only light source — the sun — as I reflect on the nature of human beings. The very species that I am.

The silence is almost deafening, shattered only by the occasional shuffling of feet and voices from outside that escaped through the tight door. A bespectacled, tall man of a different race stood opposite me in a familiar variant of Singapore’s senang diri position — with both arms behind his back, feet wide open — staring into the sky. He hasn’t moved for the last 10 minutes. Not even one bit.

How is it that we, as humans with full control of our emotions, can turn a blind eye to our actions, even when they carry tangible, terrible consequences? Starve us, and we turn crazy, desperate for food to satisfy our hunger. Cut us deep, and we bleed — a bright red, no different from the rest. Because we hurt no different from the rest.


I recall the sunset I caught the day before, surrounded by hundreds of people from different walks of life. How our cameras lifted to capture the same moment right before the sun sank beneath the horizon; I remember the sun hung so low that the sky bled red. Is that not the red we see when we bleed? Do we all not bleed the same blood, see the same sky, watch the same sunset? How is it that some are capable of such callousness none could have thought of?

How are we any different from the cruelty of the Holocaust if we never learn from their mistakes? How can we ignore the continuous atrocious that’s STILL going on in the world today? Because it doesn’t concern us? Because we don’t see it? Because out of sight, out of mind?

After a while, it seems evident that we are all the same. Still the same.

We only fight for what concerns us.

-

Written on 8 May 2018, 3pm at Holocaust Tower, Jewish Museum Berlin. My unpremeditated visit to Jewish Museum Berlin ended seeing it rise on my list of favourite museums in the world. I would recommend this to everyone, especially on your last day in Berlin, after you’ve taken a look at the other historical sites. The Holocaust Tower was an amazing place to reflect solemnly on the atrocities that happened in Berlin, and beyond.

Jewish Museum Berlin

Address: Lindenstraße 9-14, 10969 Berlin, Germany
Opening Hours: 10am to 8pm

On a side note, I should really start penning down my thoughts more frequently.