BERSIH RALLY

Rashaad's impeccable account of the day's events. Please read it as even though I went through everything with him his story gets me every single time I read it.

I was tear gassed. 10 feet away from me a canister fell. I turned to run and slammed into the back of a like minded individual. While my eyes, nose and throat were already stinging from the chemicals that sprayed out of the water cannons nothing prepared me for the full on effects of CS gas.

First your eyes start to tear and your mucous membranes start to hurt. Then the canister gives off its lethal blow and you're breathing in the stuff. Your airway constricts and your throat starts burning. While you can wheeze (and the sound of wheezing is enough to get you to panic) all you manage to breathe in is more gas. The smoke was so dense I was not breathing in any oxygen. Your lungs start to hurt and you begin to stumble. You reach out and flail your arms just trying to get a grip on something, anything. For a moment I thought I was never going to breathe in oxygen again and all I wished was for it to be over so I wouldn't feel anymore pain. And then I reminded myself that the gas isn't suppose to kill you so I kept gasping.

Rashaad was to my right and as he moved I moved. We found a clearing and in between breaths I asked where Faheem was (for he had been saved by a stranger who pulled him up and away to safety). I crashed against the closed shutters of the LRT station (because it isn't enough to gas you, they prevent you from leaving) and fell to the ground, spitting and coughing, mucous hanging out of my knows. Both my brothers crashed down next to me.

The police, I repeat, the police. The very people who are meant to protect the citizens of the country, who are meant to be out there nabbing the real criminals are causing harm to peaceful Malaysians who only love and care about the land their belongs to them. Do they look at the faces of the men, women and children? Of the pak ciks, the mak ciks and the atuks and neneks? Do they feel any shame or guilt for the pain they are inflicting? Are they blind robots merely following orders?

And this happened after the main crowd had already turned an alley. Those who lingered were a few hundred merely hanging around. They shot at the crowd! The very fact that the canister landed so close to me is testament to that. And then even after we ran they shot again! And again 10 feet away was a canister.

Tell me we don't live in a police state. Tell me the road blocks, the arrests, the denial of the permit, the excessive use of force, the agent provocateurs, demanding to know whether you are loyal to your government (I'm loyal to my country), the water cannons, the tear gas, the denial of access to the media. Tell me all of that doesn't constitute a police state.

As we made our way out of the mayhem and chaos my footsteps spoke of my dejection. I was tired, angry and devastated. In my head I was ready to renounce my citizenship and leave for a land far far away. Tears were building up in my eyes because of how Malaysians treat other Malaysians. A man asked me if I was Malaysian and I reluctantly said yes.

And then I saw the crowd. Our journey chanced upon the Istana, the final meeting point of the rally and there were so many people I couldn't see the end of the road. People of all races and all faces, mostly in yellow, sitting on the street laughing and catching up. I ran into friends, beautiful, beautiful people, and in the end it was all worth it. Looking up two police helicopters patrolled but instead of instilling fear it was validation. They were paying us attention, we were something that warranted their time. And it was also like those American war movies where in the end 3 jets fly across the sky in formation. It was victory for us.

At home I contemplated the state of my country, negaraku, as I scrubbed the chemicals from my pores. I took a deep breathe and could still smell the tear gas. I coughed because my lungs had not fully recovered, my head began to spin because it was throbbing. But I'll tell you this: the experience hardens you. When we were shot at the second time and the gas infiltrated our lungs I knew the feeling would pass. Now if there's another rally I know that I will get through it and that in the end it will all be worth it.

There's lots out there in the blogosphere regarding the aftermath. People more qualified than myself have already spoken. I'll leave it there.

Until the next rally.