The Last Person on Earth
The Ten of Swords, the Last Unicorn, the Rage of Kaalaratri and the myth of Self-Sufficiency without Allyship
I was a young girl secretly obsessed with unicorns. I never showed this outside of the confines of our family home. My cherry blossom pink bedroom’s door and walls were dotted with posters of this magical mythical creature. The captivation with horses taken to another level. One white unicorn, standing on its hind legs, raising the fore legs reeling into a canter, shines against the star stricken, moonlit night sky. Another dancing on the fluffy clouds of the rose colored purple sky. I dreamt of perhaps meeting one someday. But we all know that’s just it, the stuff of fantasy.
One of my favorite movies, to this day, is the animated movie “The Last Unicorn.” And the premise was that all the unicorns of the world, except one (Hence, the title!) were pushed back to the edge of the earth by the monstrous fiery, Red Bull, kept by King Haggard. Now, the unicorns are trapped in the waters, they exist as the foam of the waves that attempt to land on the shore, but immediately retract into the sea. They were cursed to live in fear of the aggressor that would meet them head on should they attempt to escape their watery graves.
This made me think of the Ten of Swords, the last card of the 10-card numeric suit, the maximum of the range that represent the intellect and truth, which can be both helpful as a tool and hurtful as a weapon. From the pulling out the sword from the stone, we now see a person on the ground with ten swords on his back. Blood flows onto the earth from his stabbed head. Is he still alive? How can one survive such violence inflicted on the irreplaceable spine that connects the brain to the every cell to the furthest edges of the body? Perhaps a miracle can only tell. The blackest skies loom over head. But below it, the horizon turns yellow, dispelling the darkness, whilst seeming ever so slowly.
When this is pulled in a reading, the person experienced a kind of death, deep seated trauma and pain. One could say that the person was stabbed in the back repeatedly. Ten times! There is no other person out to help stop the bleeding, treat the wounds and prevent the eventual demise. The person feels alone in his suffering. Hopeless. There is no one else in the picture. That there is no one out there looking out for their well-being and even their very life.
The last unicorn, who heard that she was the last of her kind, left her home, the forest, to find the others. But she was chased down by the Red Bull as it approached the King Haggard’s area of protection. And then its new found friend, Schemendrick, the rather inexperienced magician, cast a spell that transformed it into a woman, Lady Amalthea. It wasn’t the result he wanted, but the new form cloaked her real identity nonetheless, thereby protecting her precious existence from the raging Red Bull.
This is one experience that people like myself, immigrants, fall into, driven by our enormous fears, a compounding of years of trauma, separation and pain, transform our identities into someone else, a form that is more palatable, assimilated, one that can move seamlessly in the new world, simply to protect ourselves from being chased into the depths of the sea by the Red Bull. Often, we feel alone, carrying all these by ourselves as our own community - family and friends, our tribe, our once staunch allies, are either far away or reduced to sea foam evaporating as soon as it hits the sandy shores, never to return to land again. At times, we find ourselves being pushed back into the sea, even with this masquerading, unless we stumble upon others, who see us for who we truly are and support us in time of need.
The idea that we can be self-sufficient, be all by carrying all this pain to transform our lives, is a myth. While there are things we can do by ourselves, at some point, we will need another or more people to remove the sharp swords that cut through skin, flesh and bone and help us heal and get back up on our two feet.
The Ten of Swords, while the darkness dominates, there is a sliver of light. Perhaps with the person’s face towards the horizon, they could see that there is hope. That behind those mountains, there are people out there, who actually care, who are making their way to relieve him of his curse. That maybe others wouldn’t use his pain as a mere spectacle to be viewed from afar.
Just as Schemendrick, while a rather inexperienced spell caster, did all he could to save the last unicorn.
Lady Amalthea, the last unicorn, was found out to be who she truly was. She was then pushed further and further, backed into a corner between the shore and the sea, the watery grave of her kind, by the powerful monster. But another special friend, Lir, son of King Haggard, whose developed affections for the human form of the unicorn, comes between her and the Red Bull. In her rage, the tides turn and the last unicorn pushes the Red Bull into the sea. Then the ghosts of all the unicorns crashed on the Red Bull’s back to drag it into the depths.
While the last unicorn had a choice to remain with her new human friends, she chose to return where she truly belonged, her home, the forest.
I just hope that we don’t reach a point that there are certain peoples, the indigenous, the natives, stewards of ancestral lands, who’d be the last of their kind on this earth. That these peoples wouldn’t end up as simple figments of imagination or just words on the pages of history books. That the powerful and influential not turn a blind eye to their plight, instead of allowing monstrous fiery weapons to push them into a corner, the edge of the sea, left to drown and return as the foam of the waves that evaporate as it crashes on the sandy shores. I hope that each one of us find our way to our true homes, safe and free from harm, happy to live the rest of our days.
I learned that many Hindus are celebrating the festival of Navaratri, the nine-day festival of the nine avatars or manifestations of the supreme goddess, Durga. While the story, like Vedic astrology, is multi-layered, spanning millenia. One of the avatars named Kaalaratri captured my attention.
Kaalaratri is one of the feared and strongest female deities. Atop her head is a full head of wild hair. Around her neck is a string of skulls. Her skin is charcoal black. One of her four arms bears a curved blade, the other a thunderbolt. The two others are in mudras or hand gestures of blessing and protection. Her appearance brings both death and blessings & protection.
An asura or demon named Raktabija was wreaking havoc. This one was given a boon that whenever a drop of his blood hits the earth, a clone of himself would spring forth. Kalaratri was sent to attack him, stop him in his tracks. Not knowing this, she swung her weapons and as his blood hit the ground, more of him came to life. Like when water hit gremlins, he basically multiplied like hyper mutant rabbits. Then she realized this was happening. In her wrath, she started extracting the blood of each Raktabija clone she slew then drinking all of it, ensuring that not a single drop of blood was spilt on the ground. She continued until there was only the original demon in front of her. Needless to say, she finally slayed him.
However, it was said that she grew so violent and destructive even if her mission was accomplished. Even the gods get PTSD I suppose.
But this illustrates such a great lesson about bloodshed. That until there is zero blood that is spilt, the violence would stop. And since there seems to be an inordinate, unnecessary amount of deaths from incessant bombings, ground invasions, military retaliations, natural disasters and the like.
What I’m watching:
Well, like those who still have the bandwidth, I am watching the news in the Middle East. I actually do not like viewing it from Western, US and Europe based news outlets, so I am getting news from Al Jazeera and Middle East Eye instead.
After spending time in the region, I learned how much more nuanced the reporting is from the very people of the culture and on the ground. It makes a huge difference really. I never shook off that habit when I eventually left, so I carry this with me and share this insightful media habit of mine with all of you.
I urge you to learn more about the 75 years of occupation of Palestine and the displacement of its people and daily suffering living in a cage in its own land in the Nakba, not from the West, but from Palestinian stories. This includes Mo on Netflix or documentaries like The Gaza Project or the slew of content from the Palestinian stories genre on the same streaming platform.
#StoptheGenocide #FreePalestine
If you’d like to read more about tarot cards and their meanings, head on over to what I’ve written below:
Major Arcana
Minor Arcana