We inhabit a violent, merciless world. There is so much of pain. Killing. Blood. Gore. Terror. Lies. Double standards. Humans have this tendency of creating chaos out of the most ordered of permutations. Right now, as I post, some diabolical Israeli warplane must be bombing the shit out of a Lebanese village. Smoldering its petrified residents. Alive. A barrage of Hizbollah rockets must be on their way to another café in Haifa. As the politicians of the civilized and the not-so-civilized world slug it out, the agony persists. 24 X 7.
War is so futile. Always. I cried as a kid when I read Hemmingway’s ‘For whom the Bell tolls’. It speaks about the brutality of war. War. It only separates friends from each other. Moms from kids. Wives from husbands. Children from their Dads. As someone rightly remarked, if you give me the money that has been spent in war, I will clothe every man, woman, and child in an attire of which kings and queens will be proud. I will build a schoolhouse in every valley over the whole earth. Yet I understand this ode can never pass muster. The armament industry will never rest. Or let the planet rest in peace. The injustice has to prevail.
I have been following developments in the Middle East and other conflict zones for a long time. Err…I am not too old, must I add. In the 16 summers of my love for books and the world affairs, I observed only the hollow twanging of war. The misery that violence begets. So many tomes of it. Hatred for one another and for humanity. Americans burning 10-year old girls in Iraq. The insurgents slaughtering worshippers in mosques. Russians carpet bombing Chechen villages. The Chechens hacking to death school children. Israelis humiliating the Palestinian women. The list is long and sad.
There are only blame-games. Slander. Ignorance of other cultures and a lot of indifference. Yet it is love that sustains the world. It keeps the children smiling and the adults hoping. Against hope. But hoping nonetheless. What this planet needs is more mistletoe and less missile-talk.
Amidst this backdrop, I am weary. I think I must shut myself from more of this mayhem. No laptops, no unfolding of abortive suicide attempts -- on British aircrafts -- beamed on Live TV. No bad tidings. Just the fragrance of a thousand daffodils in full bloom. I have decided to go to a very beautiful place where the water is pure and nights are cosy. Where the mountains whistle to you on solitary evenings. Where a blue sky kisses your nose on gorgeous noons. Where the moon appears like a cheese, you want to squeeze and chomp. I am expecting some great company.
God is holidaying. So am I!
See ya soon. Here, I leave you with a couple of images that have haunted us in the days before. There are other images that one never wishes to tear one self from. Let's continue to hope!
[The next blog will be posted September 1, 2006]
The green-peek: A beautiful world.