Saturday, February 1, 2014

The Color of My Black

Every once in a while, something stirs from deep within me... it manifests itself as a yearning somewhere near my heart... it has magic slippery tentacles that slowly but palpably expand and wrap their hungry grips around my heart, my stomach, my insides and as it grows it consumes my soul .... and i yield... all that i can do is yield. To take a step back, to sit, and to breathe ... to breathe deep. to close my eyes and listen to the beast within. 

Because words breathe and they're alive... because they are conceived in the deepest troves of my heart, and come to life with each heart beat, and gain strength and slowly move up to my lips as I slowly bat my eyes and try to maintain composure... Because words are born on my tongue and finally, they take flight as my tears irrigate my soul...

And so.. the stories write themselves...words one by one, slowly at first, and then with a rush, like a spring shower, ... 

"get in Girl,... we're rolling out to the scene". 

Handsome and gray, with his sharp blue LAPD uniform, pressed as if he was presenting himself to the US President... His shoes, recently waxed, buffed and shined, reflected the light of the overhead street lights... I, the young law clerk, barely 24 years old, with my coffee in my hands, and my note pad, eager to see, eager to learn, eager to meet the world, was hanging on to every word of this Sargent who was going to be my mentor for the next 12 hours.

"victim on the ground, single gun shot wound, paramedics on their way...." the voice from the black & white's radio updated us as we rolled out to the scene. 

A short ride later, in the Northeastern part of LA, we rolled out to a neighborhood i never knew existed. ...Yellow tape delineating the crime scene, people gathering all around, and the sound of clatter, crying sounds and noise associated with doom. 

"Get out of the car. Breathe slowly,... look, don't touch, and don't let it get inside your heart" He ordered me. A lesson that i have often forgotten over the years. The black of the criminal defense world, is blacker and darker than any other black one will ever see.

We slowly walked up. a bicycle on the ground... blood slowly running in a rivulet on the asphalt to the side of the street, ... looking up to see where the blood was coming from laid a yound man, on the ground, on his back, single gun shot to his forehead, at close proximity leaving a star shaped pattern, grey matter splattered all around. 


The contents of my stomach crept up slowly to the edge of my throat, and i, lost in the acrimony of the moment, could not find any air to breathe... so i ended up swallowing the black that has forever placed itself inside of my soul....

Uncollected writing of CDAK. 
February 1, 2014

Alaleh Kamran, Attorney at Law
A Professional Corporation
15760 Ventura Blvd, Suite 1010
Encino, Ca  91436
ph: 818-986-6222

Lecturer, Radio Host, Citizen Journalist, Blogger
Los Angeles