Romeo was a Montegue, the powerful ruling clan. Juliet was a Capulet,
a member of a minority (and yet, a privileged minority in many ways).
Romeo adored Juliet. They had rarely spoken, but he was an ardent
follower of her work since his teens. He was very much smitten, amazed
at how every word she laid down on paper seemed to emanate a softness,
a warmth, a humanity — a deep love and kindness that he saw reflected
in her eyes whenever they rarely did meet.
And in those years of quiet romance from afar, the Capulets went through
their fair share of trials. They were branded traitors to the nation, a
force hell bent on bringing down the Montegues from within. Two-tongued
and devious, driven by a long-term ideology and short-term niceties. A
fifth-column that has waited patiently for centuries for its chance to strike.
Romeo saw parallels though. He saw the same humanity he saw within his
Montegue friends within Juliet and the dozens of other Capulet friends
he had. He felt that they were all being taken for a ride by those within
the clans that wished for nothing but conflict, for conflict was profitable.
The silent and peaceful (and yet very mistrusting) masses being led for a
ride by those who hogged the limelight, the radicals, the firebrands, the
ones who could easily call for the head of anyone sane who stood up to
them and for common humanity.
This wasn’t how the future was supposed to look. We were supposed to be the
post-war generation which had learned lessons which were never to be repeated.
We grew up in our multi-cultural schools and with friends from all over. We
had an internet to connect us, Snapchat filters to unite us, a soundtrack of
our youth that we shared with kids from America. Where did it all go so
Romeo was tired of reality, and very much wished that Juliet was the one
penning the story instead, with that familiar softness, warmth, and humanity
emanating from every word.