Revenge it is... What revenge? Revenge for what? Who said it is on your shoulders to take revenge? Will killing all these people reverse time and set everything all right? It will not. What urges you to take that axe and plunge it into the flesh which belongs to another religion? Does it satiate the ire, the humiliation, the helplessness? Or does it make way for more? What can possibly explain taking another persons life just because he doesnt pray to your God? Who is your God? Does He endorse bloodshed, encourage outraging the modesty of women and axing off heads of children because some hot headed youngster of another community thought it was better to murder someone from yours? How can you be so naive, so silly, so savage and yet the most intelligent animal to have walked on Earth?
So that our kids live without fear in future. Right. Your children. What about those children who wake up shrieking in the middle of the night because they learnt the concept of death watching someone die in front of them, pleading, grovelling at your feet for life. Did you care to notice that when you plunged that sickle into his head that they dint shriek, or run away? They stayed their. Horror made its home inside their little heads and trickled down on their cheeks as tears. They dint cry. They just stayed, the warm tears on their faces seeming as casual as water droplets clinging to a glass of chilled water. The elder one held the younger one tightly, close to her little chest and stared. She dint look at you when you were sawing away a hand and stamping at the dead body. She dint look at you when you mouthed obscenities about their religion and their God. But just when you were walking away, she looked at you. She dint know how to say this, albeit, she wished you had killed her as well.... thought it was better to die than to live a life with a memory of how it ends.... than to live in a world where people do scary things to each other when they get angry. The younger one whimpered. But the elder one stayed still... and watched you pry for more prey. What makes you think they dint die then? They did, their childhood did.
So that we can reinstate our pride in calling ourselves one-knit and our faith in God. So you ten of you armed with knives et all can kill five of others. Whats the great deal in that? You call that power? Anyone can do it. Do you have the power to undo all this? No. If you do, That is Power. Do you think with all that blood in your hands, there will come a time when you can live in peace? No. As you age more and you become dependent on your kids to eat, bathe and defecate, you'll realize that the world goes on because there is someone else who cares about you. The world goes on, because there is love. The time dint stop when you committed that murder. It went on, patiently, waited for you to become callous and high on your power and pounced on you when you were the most vulnerable. Just like you did on them. Look at what you have done. Every night while looking at your image in the mirror, you'll find a new bloodstain on your face. No matter how much you clean-up it will never be enough. You will leave all this behind - Money, land, property, pride, power, community, religion, politics... But you'll take one thing to the place you go to after your death... That bloodstain.
So that our kids live without fear in future. Right. Your children. What about those children who wake up shrieking in the middle of the night because they learnt the concept of death watching someone die in front of them, pleading, grovelling at your feet for life. Did you care to notice that when you plunged that sickle into his head that they dint shriek, or run away? They stayed their. Horror made its home inside their little heads and trickled down on their cheeks as tears. They dint cry. They just stayed, the warm tears on their faces seeming as casual as water droplets clinging to a glass of chilled water. The elder one held the younger one tightly, close to her little chest and stared. She dint look at you when you were sawing away a hand and stamping at the dead body. She dint look at you when you mouthed obscenities about their religion and their God. But just when you were walking away, she looked at you. She dint know how to say this, albeit, she wished you had killed her as well.... thought it was better to die than to live a life with a memory of how it ends.... than to live in a world where people do scary things to each other when they get angry. The younger one whimpered. But the elder one stayed still... and watched you pry for more prey. What makes you think they dint die then? They did, their childhood did.
So that we can reinstate our pride in calling ourselves one-knit and our faith in God. So you ten of you armed with knives et all can kill five of others. Whats the great deal in that? You call that power? Anyone can do it. Do you have the power to undo all this? No. If you do, That is Power. Do you think with all that blood in your hands, there will come a time when you can live in peace? No. As you age more and you become dependent on your kids to eat, bathe and defecate, you'll realize that the world goes on because there is someone else who cares about you. The world goes on, because there is love. The time dint stop when you committed that murder. It went on, patiently, waited for you to become callous and high on your power and pounced on you when you were the most vulnerable. Just like you did on them. Look at what you have done. Every night while looking at your image in the mirror, you'll find a new bloodstain on your face. No matter how much you clean-up it will never be enough. You will leave all this behind - Money, land, property, pride, power, community, religion, politics... But you'll take one thing to the place you go to after your death... That bloodstain.
