The brat went back to school today to much moaning and grumbling and grouching about how Mamma is sending him zabardasti to school and all aatankwadis are saying dont go skul Krish, stay at home.
He packed in a huge automatic toy rifle into a side pocket. "To shoot the terrorisms."
Mamma took it out and told him not to be silly, there are no terrorists in school. "But there wuz in dTaj hotel na? And we is gone there na, yesterday?"
Mamma must intercede and explain to the gentle reader that anything that happens in the remote past is yesterday in brat speak.
The lane outside the school was jammed with cars. And an unusually thick throng of parents congregated outside a single gate. All the side entrances had been closed. Parents had to drop their kids at a main gate, and the kids had to make their way on their own to the lobby across the miniscule cement area that masqueraded as the little ground they had.
A sudden chill engulfed me. What if? What if?
Internationally schools have been prime targets for hostage taking situations. We have had guntoting crazies run amok on graduate school campuses in the USA. We've seen schools being taken over by armed men who demand the release of their gang members in exchange of the lives of the little ones they hold hostage. And we've also seen schools being gutted to the ground by arsonists. With the children inside.
At this moment I knew I had lost hope. I had no faith anymore. I would not be able to sleep in peace anymore. I would not know whether I would reach home alive, or would ever be not on edge if my family was not in my immediate vicinity.
I said a little prayer for all the children who had died in the carnage over the last week. And all the adults. And all those who had been injured.
And I said a little prayer for my angel who ran inside, swatting a classmate with his water bottle and spraying half the water all around.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
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2 opinions:
Even after so many bombings and killings, I am amazed how the Bombay massacre has managed to shake every desensitized one of us. Like Pixar, who manage to push the envelope beyond the incredible after every incredible feel-good classic, evil too finds a way to shake those who thought nothing more can shake them. The overwhelming feeling this time is of depression, not anger or awe. And no one knows why, really....
Praying that our kids don't pay for all the hate and selfishness we have accumulated over the past 20 years!
Vidooshak: It has shaken me enough to want to do something more than just write about it.
I pray too, for my little mongrel. That he survives in this world hell bent on going beyond every boundary of hate. And all our children. That we give them a life not defined by hate and religion and terrorism.
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