Silence

I sometimes surprise myself by my own silence. But the silence in the face of brazen inhumanity is indeed tantamount to be a passive accomplice. I didn't want to write a single word about the bombed apart children and their mothers, fathers, grandpa and grandma, mangled and shredded, and of course thoroughly dehumanized in the eyes of the "civilized" world too busy celebrating the world cup soccer victory or grieving about the loss of a game or chitchatting the musings of celebrities and their lush lives, and going about their livelihoods, listening here and there what is happening in that faraway land that is portrayed in palatable decorum, but hesitate to speak out against this and other outrageous brutality. But not everyone is like me tongue-tied. People from all walks of life have started to come out to the streets, without caring about the all so not pleasant consequences of being put under perpetual suspicion and never ending surveillance.
When I hold my new born son Sahil, only a few weeks old, when he smiles in his innocent dreams, so lucky I feel to be in this world of classy privilege and utmost comforts, the inevitable thoughts come to mind, the fear and the anguish and the pain that a father like me is going through in that land of oppression, holding his son or daughter while the supersonic fighter jets swoops by overhead dropping bombs after bombs, the growling roar of the metallic tank grinding the already pulverized stones and bricks, the crackles of the machine guns and the crying of the targeted human beings not far away. Does that child held by his mother and father closest to their chest has the same right to dream and smile? What happened to our collective humanity? What happened to our pristine soul?
Silence in the face of evil is itself evil. Not so sure if the all encompassing the so called "Evil" exists, but sure do know that being silent is not so different.

Comments

Post a Comment