A few days back it came to my knowledge that a person had been killed in Dhaka, brutally murdered more like, having been stabbed and beaten while the police, news, and a mob of people looked on. A so-called victim of circumstance. He had, by all accounts, been walking to work when a group of people attacked him, apparently mistaking him for a pro-blockade activist. You will find pictures and videos of his beating across the net. Papers are splashed with photos of his corpse. Privacy is a relative term nowadays. He was, quite simply, an easy target for the angry masses. To quote a professor who spoke of the event: “How can a person kill another person in such a manner? I doubt even cats and dogs kill in so brutal a way.....What must the world think of us?”.
My critics will accuse me of sanctifying a perceived enemy of the state, a supposed member of an opposing party. But I’m not only writing about his death at the hands of blood-thirsty individuals. I mean to highlight the plight and tribulations the world over, from past to present, of those who have been unwillingly sacrificed to satisfy the raging fury of lesser men. People tell me, “How else will we get the attention we need?”. Or, “This is retribution! No one cares when a Muslim is killed!”. All I can think to reply with is this-- “But does anyone care when a person is killed?”.
When will we come to terms with the simple fact that we are all children of God under the banner of humanity? Is it right for me to state that Muslim blood is more precious than Hindu? Christian than Jewish? Have the medical textbooks of the world failed to underline the structural differences between people of different races, religions, and creeds? Or are we all one and the same? This poison so many have been fed since youth, this drug of superiority, needs to be done away with. An infusion of understanding, of compassion, must be started. A death of a person is a death nonetheless. To say you condone the killings of certain individuals as they have dealt a similar wrong to others is hardly an acceptable act. It isn’t so black and white in the end.
We’re all caught up in this vicious cycle of tit-for-tat. Revenge must be had. Nobody ever seems willing to cooperate, lest it be perceived as a sign of weakness. This appears to be the general route of approach in the subcontinent. Fear is power. Power is wealth. Wealth is happiness. These are the mantras of so many in this region, the ones who corrupt the youth, undermine religion, and espouse violence. They gain the upper hand through their scare tactics and their threats, and most everyone sits back and allows it. There’s nothing that can be done, they concede. No one can help us now.
Too oft I read the news to find that so-and-so organization has bombed its enemies in retaliation for an earlier agitation. Protestors are shot as they march against an oppressive regime. Blood runs freely through the streets. Graves are then dug for young bodies, slight frames, and innocent souls. What must they wonder whence they open their eyes once more, only to see that they’ve left this earthly realm? Why is man so savage? Is there no place left for peace to thrive?
My critics will accuse me of sanctifying a perceived enemy of the state, a supposed member of an opposing party. But I’m not only writing about his death at the hands of blood-thirsty individuals. I mean to highlight the plight and tribulations the world over, from past to present, of those who have been unwillingly sacrificed to satisfy the raging fury of lesser men. People tell me, “How else will we get the attention we need?”. Or, “This is retribution! No one cares when a Muslim is killed!”. All I can think to reply with is this-- “But does anyone care when a person is killed?”.
When will we come to terms with the simple fact that we are all children of God under the banner of humanity? Is it right for me to state that Muslim blood is more precious than Hindu? Christian than Jewish? Have the medical textbooks of the world failed to underline the structural differences between people of different races, religions, and creeds? Or are we all one and the same? This poison so many have been fed since youth, this drug of superiority, needs to be done away with. An infusion of understanding, of compassion, must be started. A death of a person is a death nonetheless. To say you condone the killings of certain individuals as they have dealt a similar wrong to others is hardly an acceptable act. It isn’t so black and white in the end.
We’re all caught up in this vicious cycle of tit-for-tat. Revenge must be had. Nobody ever seems willing to cooperate, lest it be perceived as a sign of weakness. This appears to be the general route of approach in the subcontinent. Fear is power. Power is wealth. Wealth is happiness. These are the mantras of so many in this region, the ones who corrupt the youth, undermine religion, and espouse violence. They gain the upper hand through their scare tactics and their threats, and most everyone sits back and allows it. There’s nothing that can be done, they concede. No one can help us now.
Too oft I read the news to find that so-and-so organization has bombed its enemies in retaliation for an earlier agitation. Protestors are shot as they march against an oppressive regime. Blood runs freely through the streets. Graves are then dug for young bodies, slight frames, and innocent souls. What must they wonder whence they open their eyes once more, only to see that they’ve left this earthly realm? Why is man so savage? Is there no place left for peace to thrive?
“Zulm phir zulm hai, barhta hai toh mit jaataa hai.
Khoon phir khoon hai, tapkega toh jam jaayega…
…Tum ne jis khoon ko maqtal mein dabaana chaaha
Aaj voh kuchaa-o-bazaar mein aa nikla hai.
Kahin shoal kahin naarah kahin patthar ban ke
Khoon chalta hai toh rukta nahin sangeeno se.
Sar jo uthtaa hai toh dabtaa nahin aaeeno se…”