Sneha stumble into her bedroom almost
feebly, and look at the power and presence within her. It is a
paradox — it seems that suddenly the darkness in her memory and the
Faith in her intellect join forces and let her stand in the door way
of Will. Faith beckons her to do rather than rest in darkness — to
accomplish rather than question why.. as she slowly lifts the
receiver to her ear.
It's cold. Her hand, poised over the
keypad, hesitates. What is the number? She puts the phone on its
hook and searches for the paper with Shreya's number on it. She
knows the number. She memorized it yesterday, when she finally
called information to get it. It took a while for the operator to
find it.
Shreya moved since the last time Sneha
spoke to her. Not surprising, it's been seventeen
years.
Seventeen years -- a lifetime ago.
Certainly, nothing is the same. Most definitely not
Sneha. Seventeen years ago she was
young and beautiful -- and in love. Hopelessly in
love. Now, married and two children
later, she's just taking it one day at a time.
Biting her lip, Sneha perches on the
end of the bed, her hand once again hovering over
the phone on the table in front of her.
Ever since she heard that Shreya's son, Mathan, died
in a car accident, the same thoughts
keep running through her mind. "Will Shreya even
remember me? We were best friends for
ten years. How could she forget? The real
question is -- would she rather forget.
Will she even talk to me? Has enough time lapsed
to heal the wounds? Has Shreya ever
forgiven me?"
Looking back, Sneha could see that it
was all blown out of proportion at the time. After
all nothing really ever happened. But
Shreya never believed that. At least not that she ever
told Sneha.
It took a few months, after that
blowout scene between them at the restaurant, for
Sneha to put the hurt behind her and
move on. A year later, she got married and
regretted that Shreya was not there to
be her bridesmaid. Shreya never knew she had a
namesake -- Sneha's first daughter,
little Rani, who died at six months old, from
SIDS.
"Thank God, for Latha. I thought
the world ended when little Rani died. Latha is my pride
and joy, my reason for living, but
little Rani is never far from my thoughts or my heart."
Now, Sneha's heard that Shreya has lost
her son, too. Sneha's sister told her three days
ago. She read about it in the local
paper last week. "Oh Shreya , I wish I were there for
you now. I want you to know that I
know what you're going through. I want you to know
that you're not alone."
For the umpteenth time in three days,
Sneha remembers the pain of losing a child.
Drying her eyes, her hands trembling,
she picks up the phone and dials the number. A
sad, yet familiar voice answers on the
third ring, "Hello."
"Hello, Shreya?"
American History X is not just an excellent film because of the cinematic qualities but also because it addresses an extremely important issue in American society: racism. It is so powerful that it can truly change ones’ opinions and beliefs about racism. It is influential and has the potential of changing American society for the better by stopping groups such as the Ku Klux Klan and by instilling a sense of tolerance for other races for anyone who watches the film.
