Question or Privilege?
“Privilege is invisible to those who have it.”
The lights go out.
One family complains.
Another reaches for a candle.
Same power cut.
Different realities.
Privilege rarely announces itself.
It simply convinces us that our version of normal is everyone’s.
The Privilege of Looking Away
Some of us can afford to ignore politics.
Others cannot.
When policies shape your education, livelihood or identity, politics follows you home.
The privilege isn’t having an opinion.
It’s believing the outcome won’t change your life.
The Privilege of a Fair Chance
Some debate examinations like NEET.
Others are still asking whether opportunity should depend on a postcode, a language or a family’s income.
A fair system shouldn’t begin with unequal starting lines.
The Privilege of Being Understood
Some people have never rehearsed a sentence before speaking.
Never apologised for their accent.
Privilege isn’t speaking the “right” language.
It’s never having to think about it.
The Privilege of Certainty
Some people find certainty in faith.
Others find it in institutions.
Some find it in neither.
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But perhaps the greatest privilege is never needing to wonder where certainty will come from.
The Privilege of Not Knowing
Some people notice petrol prices because they’re on the news.
Others notice because tomorrow’s commute depends on them.
Some people discover the price of vegetables at the checkout.
Others calculate it before leaving home.
Privilege isn’t spending more.
It’s never having to remember the price.
The Privilege of Being Heard
People rarely wake up wanting to protest.
A protest often begins where listening ends.
The question isn’t only who is speaking.
It’s also who isn’t listening.
Normal.
Perhaps that’s what privilege does best.
It disguises itself as certainty.
The certainty that the lights will return.
That an ambulance will arrive.
That your language will be understood.
That walking home won’t require a second thought.
That your education will open doors.
That your voice will matter.
Until one day, we meet someone who expects none of those things.
And only then do we realise that what we called ordinary was, all along, a privilege.
Power cuts teach us to appreciate electricity only when the lights go out.
Perhaps societies work much the same way.
The real privilege isn’t having more.
It’s never having had to question whether the system would work for you.
