“The Terrorist is dead, Long Live The Terrorist”
There
are those who will stone me for the above. I don’t mean to address them. They
will run out of stones.
There
are those who will dodge past its face value and nod internally. I hope to meet
you soon.
Then
there are those who will turn the page before the end of the sentence. Let me
hold your attention. Let me grab it by its short ears, tie it to a chair and
force open its tiny eyes.
Before
the eyebrow furrow, let me elucidate that this is not a rant against capital
punishment.
The
accused was captured. The accused was paraded in and out of courtrooms for over
1000 days. The accused was found guilty. The accused was sentenced. The sentence
was carried out in secrecy.
Before
the eyebrows get lost in the hairline, this is not a rant against The Justice
System.
Allow
me to ride the wave of ‘popular’ opinion. Allow me to say ‘Justice’ was served.
Served past dinnertime perhaps, but served it was.
And
oh boy! DID we rejoice! We cried far and wide of Victory and Justice. We
flooded the airwaves and bandwidths with pats on the back. We congratulated
ourselves and our elected representatives on a job well done!!
Let
me tempt your brows no further.
My
rant is a little oblique. It's this circus of confused 'patriotism' that's
really getting my goat. The translation of a democratic process into some
mangled sense of moral victory. The misconstrued idea that THIS is leading to an
End. That Change has arrived and has no travel plans.
But
mostly it's the undignified gloating of a schoolyard bully.
Many
might argue its relief, not gloating. Relief for those directly affected. Some
turmeric for the long suffering. I humbly secede. I cannot assume to take anything
away from their moment.
The
pen does not seek to confer sainthood upon the (dead terrorist /condemned?),
he’s received his comeuppance. It implores the readers to break forth from this
cirque de madness and into saner
pastures. It pleads the question, should we be broadcasting our exultance over
the end of life, regardless of the circumstances precipitating it, with such
baseness?
Celebrate Life,
not death. Keep death hush-hush, under wraps. Sweep it under the carpet. Let it
fade into legend and folklore. Let it be one of those myths that we can't be
sure we truly buy into, but we prefer it that way.
When
did sensationalism become the norm? When did we to stray so far from the path
that we no longer pause to weigh what merits the carriage of our thoughts, the
hotness of our breath and what is unworthy of such wreaths.
Celebrate Life.
Let death be one of them stories we whisper to kids at night with a blanket
over our heads and a torch on our face. And watch their eyes widen with awe.
Death
is the great leveler. All the great texts, The Bible, The Bhagvad Gita, and The
Quran preach “Forgive and Forget”. Or do the dead have no claim over the
scriptures?
Celebrate Life.
Let death neither mar nor glorify it. Don't let it dilute the Now. Let not its
imminence distract.
“Man's greatness lies in his power of
thought.” – Blaise Pascal
It
has been quite a log hop since our ancestors crawled out of the sea and grew
legs. We have achieved great things in that time. But unless we break away from
this slide of thought, trim this rot of mind, reach out of this quicksand of rehashed
conformism, we have but just a juvenile ‘dibs’ on pretense greatness.
Celebrate Life. Let
us choose to rejoice over the death of Terrorism, when that happens. And not
over the dead body of man who was a terrorist.
Until
then, read a good book.
First Published here
