Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Narration of a man's journey

(The following is a monologue describing an encounter that changed the course of life for a child. It is inspired from specific events in the recent history invovling communal violence. The presentation is purely emotional and does not concentrate too much on the style and language)

The Free Spirit Within : A narration of a man’s journey


I remember when I was a kid, I used to live in the little blue building at the corner of the street. Happy and cheerful I used to smile everyday at everyone I meet.


I lived in harmony and peace, oblivion from the rest of the world; my parents gave me a life larger than this world.


They taught me love, and they taught me to be true. Learnt all my life of tolerance and the joy of sharing. For you see ours was a community of many religions living together


But then came the day; it seems like yesterday. Over the radio we heard the daily stories of lives that ended over some stupid strife.


I wondered then- who killed and who died, who were the victims and who were the killers? Did the killers even know the victims? What right they had to end others life? Did they not see the fear in their eyes? Did they not once remember their own loved ones?


Yet every day I lived with my parents’ reassured love. And so I never thought I’d need see that day-The day that started like any other day. But soon the sounds of chants I heard; and soon the rains of fire I felt


Oh God, those men! Spared not a thought for the life given by God. Spared not a thought that it was not to be taken away by them


I clutched on to mother’s dress, she herself in tears held us close. But soon they were there knocking on our doors, broke them down and fires arose


Smoke and soot all over the place we ran around for a place that was more safe. I held on to mother for my dear life, shut my eyes but couldn’t block my ears. I prayed to God to make them go away.


I heard them cry, I heard them die. The shattering of the glasses, the piercing sound of the wailing; the screaming women and the afraid children, the sounds of bullets, the clashing of swords.


Where men were stripped, where would the women last? The children disbelieving, could not trust their eyes. Their dream filled world now filled with blood and tears.


I only remember running here and there with mother. Don’t remember when last I saw father. Gruesome sights of flies feeding on bodies. Smell of blood causing me nausea.


I closed my eyes till I tripped over a leg without a body. I tightened my grip on mother’s hand, wanting to this nightmare to pass…


Years have gone by, yet I remember every single day after that. Ask me, I’ll tell you of the atrocities unmentionable and proscribed.


How I survived, I’ll tell you later. But I lived and I lived alone. Mother died the week after next. You see, pure as she was, she couldn’t bear having to live in this ludicrous world.


Now I don’t believe those men were men. A fight they wanted should’ve been with an equal. Let them fight with the ones they are against. Let those that kill, be the ones killed. Let those that wish to kill be the ones to see their own killed.


War we have is against whom? Fight terrorism we say, yet we fight whom? Everyday a million people die. All of whom are like you and me.


Hell those people might not even had had an opinion. But that day I swore to myself -I would not be deaf. Not be deaf or be dumb. To anything that was and that is.


I would rise and fight injustice, fight every cause that came my way and never sit quiet, for I may not get the chance tomorrow, and I cannot get the chance to change my past.


I swore to always have an opinion, and never be bogged down by those who wish to suppress my thoughts


If you believe in the words I speak; if you have the courage to live life right then carry on the flame and swear to yourself today, to fight injustice, to fight every cause, and to help everyone in need


For living a life that doesn’t serve is only a life in an empty world. A life that doesn’t do good to others is a life that doesn’t live in this world.


For this world is created where organism is co-dependent, and until you realize you are just a piece in the puzzle that doesn’t survive alone, you will not take that extra step to help that stranger.


If you live your life in your shell, that shell will consume you, because whatever goes against the law of co-dependency is slowly wiped out from the arena of the game


You may think you are the captain of the ship, but you are merely a vessel in a vast sea. And that is the fundamental error of the man; he thinks therefore he believes he can,
But he fails to realize the deeper pattern


And that is the irony of life, the irony of truth, the irony of man and if you fail to mend your ways- be warned these are the end of days.

1 comment:

Shiro Tora said...

neither prose nor poem...it is a PROEM ...ah well i was forewarned ...

Very moving ..... and well written too .... though towards the end i got the feeling that you wanted to write more ... but felt compelled to just say enough !!!

Your thoughts ... what you said ... the feelings ...moving as it is... it transcends through what i feel ... but i could never imagine saying it the way you said it here...

it is really beautiful just as you are .... may that tumbler of thoughts never be empty and let it pour to fill the souls !!!

please continue this PROEM if you intended to do so... :)

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