I first watched the report on the possibility of world ending and wiping out all life on the planet (by some meteor collision) on Discovery channel a long time ago and I was worried, being somewhat more indulgent of my imagination than most people, I was scared to death by the report. That night I insisted on keeping awake and talk as much as I can to Y (about the little future/life we had on the planet) ....yeah that was my foolproof solution to every problem, even a daunting one like the end of the world. For days after watching that show, I would scan the night sky for any sign of anything suspicious in the sky. With the passage of time, the terror of the world ending thing also loosened its grip from my mind, and life went on.
Now, suddenly, I realize that a meteor collision sounds like diwali cracker compared to what people keep doing to each other in this seriously strange world. When bombs go off in a crowded pre-Diwali market in Goa, when people going about their business are blown to bits in Mumbai locals, again and again and again. A shake of the head, a few brief comments and condolences, breaking news spattered with blood, strategic thinkers and lobbyists on the news, muttering at dirty politicians trying to extract mileage. Life goes on, and the ones who have been hurt shed tears in the process. Well for ages India has been a soft target, Indians have notoriously short memories and we all wear pretty tags around our necks labelling us 'Muslims' and 'Hindus' and 'Jews' and 'Westerners' so that the next gunmen can pick out which ones they want to target next time. These days even the other side wears labels like 'Islamic terror', 'Hindu terror' and terror of other denominations, because maybe their killing styles are different. Time isn't really the greatest healer, but indifference is. We continue doing our mundane jobs while somewhere another young man is taught that ending our lives arbitrarily is “the” way to set everything right in his world, to end the cycle of poverty, misery, misunderstanding and ghettoisation ( is that a word??) that he deals with everyday.
So, who are these people who play with us? Why are they so easy to 'brainwash'? Why are there so many of them willing to kill? How desperate are the lives of those who pick up guns to settle scores with unknown, uncomprehending victims of their rage? When you make people believe that a shortcut exists which will take care of all their problems right away. Instead of telling them that it takes hard work and years of it, to build schools and generate jobs and start businesses, to pave roads and build houses and make women feel a degree of safety on the streets, to give children a wholesome childhood and to make life what it should be, you create a bloodthirsty race of terrorists who are themselves too scared of their own reality and seek quick fixes for everything. Well, wake up and look around. Things won't change because you jump on a boat with a bag full of bullets and dry fruits with frenzied visions of martyrdom in your eyes. Every life that you take is a complexity of nerve and blood, bone and muscle, complex beyond your imagination, something you cannot even comprehend, let alone give back. And yet, it takes you not a moment to tear it apart. I fervently hope that you live with the crushing weight of possibility held by each life that you pulled out so casually. I hope the guilt never leaves you alone, not even for a moment.
I wonder if we will ever feel safe again, even if we could insist on sleeping next to our mother/father/best friend/spouse. I wonder if we'll ever get a voter ID and actually do our bit instead of wondering how people like this keep getting elected. In the meantime, there's always next time, and life goes on.
Now, suddenly, I realize that a meteor collision sounds like diwali cracker compared to what people keep doing to each other in this seriously strange world. When bombs go off in a crowded pre-Diwali market in Goa, when people going about their business are blown to bits in Mumbai locals, again and again and again. A shake of the head, a few brief comments and condolences, breaking news spattered with blood, strategic thinkers and lobbyists on the news, muttering at dirty politicians trying to extract mileage. Life goes on, and the ones who have been hurt shed tears in the process. Well for ages India has been a soft target, Indians have notoriously short memories and we all wear pretty tags around our necks labelling us 'Muslims' and 'Hindus' and 'Jews' and 'Westerners' so that the next gunmen can pick out which ones they want to target next time. These days even the other side wears labels like 'Islamic terror', 'Hindu terror' and terror of other denominations, because maybe their killing styles are different. Time isn't really the greatest healer, but indifference is. We continue doing our mundane jobs while somewhere another young man is taught that ending our lives arbitrarily is “the” way to set everything right in his world, to end the cycle of poverty, misery, misunderstanding and ghettoisation ( is that a word??) that he deals with everyday.
So, who are these people who play with us? Why are they so easy to 'brainwash'? Why are there so many of them willing to kill? How desperate are the lives of those who pick up guns to settle scores with unknown, uncomprehending victims of their rage? When you make people believe that a shortcut exists which will take care of all their problems right away. Instead of telling them that it takes hard work and years of it, to build schools and generate jobs and start businesses, to pave roads and build houses and make women feel a degree of safety on the streets, to give children a wholesome childhood and to make life what it should be, you create a bloodthirsty race of terrorists who are themselves too scared of their own reality and seek quick fixes for everything. Well, wake up and look around. Things won't change because you jump on a boat with a bag full of bullets and dry fruits with frenzied visions of martyrdom in your eyes. Every life that you take is a complexity of nerve and blood, bone and muscle, complex beyond your imagination, something you cannot even comprehend, let alone give back. And yet, it takes you not a moment to tear it apart. I fervently hope that you live with the crushing weight of possibility held by each life that you pulled out so casually. I hope the guilt never leaves you alone, not even for a moment.
I wonder if we will ever feel safe again, even if we could insist on sleeping next to our mother/father/best friend/spouse. I wonder if we'll ever get a voter ID and actually do our bit instead of wondering how people like this keep getting elected. In the meantime, there's always next time, and life goes on.
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