I don’t need your civil war

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been afraid of war. I know that sounds like the kind of statement that would come from a war-experienced person. But no, my life has always been pink and happy. The idea of a war, however, has always scared me.

I remember, back in sixth grade, in 2001, when the World Trade Centre was struck, there was speculation of a Third World War. I didn’t know much about war, but I was scared. The next day, when I went to school, the topic of the WTC came up in the first period. Miss Juliet was our class teacher and she was generally talking to everyone about it. No one seemed perturbed except for one girl, who began to sniff and cry. Yeah, it was me.

I don’t know why I was upset. For the rest of the week, I had nightmares of everyone I know being dead. My house was a rubble of cement and bricks. I woke up one night and threw up because my dream was that bad. I don’t know if it was the same fear of war or if it was something else. This hazy memory brings to my mind a quote I read in The Sense of An Ending, “History is that certainty produced at the point where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation.”

Anyway, I prayed that no one would start a Third World War. I had no sense of international relationships back then. I didn’t know who was pissed off with whom. I didn’t know which country was deemed bad and which one, good. I knew Osama Bin Laden was a bad guy. And I was scared of him. I once dreamt that he was in my balcony.

A Star of David bookmark for Exodus. Most of you may know it as the branding that was stitched onto Jews’ clothes during WWII

But that’s history. Fast forward err… 14 years (Ok I’m getting OLD). Yesterday, I finished reading this book, Exodus, by Leon Uris. The book had sat in my cupboard in the Will-never-read-these, don’t-know-where-they-came-from section forever. Just out of curiosity, I opened the book, read a few lines and I was hooked. For those of you not familiar with it, it’s a classic novel that documents the history of Zionism (influx of Jews into Israel from all over the world) and the creation of Israel. It’s part fiction and part truth. It’s a powerful book with deep characters. While reading it, I felt like I was part of everything. I felt like I took part in the creation of Israel, a region that is portrayed as overwhelmingly powerful.

The book documents the numerous wars that happened between Arabs and Jews over Israel (especially the Civil War), about the British pretending to help the Jews, but never really helping, about WWII concentration camps, about unrest, about terror, massacres, air raids, genocides, murders and destruction of any means of livelihood. And yet, it’s a story of victory, faith and courage.

Through out the book, I kept thinking, “Oh this was all so long ago. These people are such barbarians. Nobody hates the Jews any more. Thank God it’s all over.” The book was published in 1958 and it documents history right from the 1800’s until 1949 I think. I don’t know why I thought that was long ago. It was some 60+ years ago and the world hasn’t changed much since then. I was but a fool to think it’s all over.

I feel so naive to have convinced myself that during those wars, people were uneducated and they just wanted to be dumb and fight for land. I look around me now and I see mindless violence everywhere. It’s so frustrating! One day, I see that 147 students have been massacred in Garissa University, Kenya, and the next day, I read that India is evacuating people from Yemen, because some two sects of the same religion are fighting each other for power. Actually, the intensity of the situation hit me only today when I read this personal account of what it’s like to be in Yemen right now. It sounded strikingly like a girl in Exodus narrating a war scene. Added to that, today, I saw my own country, amidst all the heroic evacuations, has turned into the first country to use weaponised drones for crowd control.

I just don’t get it and I don’t think I ever will. I wrote this post to simply rant about how ridiculous everything is. I recently saw a picture of a bunch of men standing over a writhing cow, whose throat was slit off. Why? Beef ban. Because the cow signed some papers and made the ban? Why are people so bloody irrational all the time? Why do they let their minds be directed by anger and violence? Why can’t they pause, think and talk it out? What ever happened to the idea of a compromise? Or forgiveness?

Where is the love?

Make peace, not war

I read news about four little boys being killed at a beach in Gaza City a couple of days ago.

Call me slow, but that was when the intensity of the situation in Gaza hit me. I was trying to discuss with Su and Anand about whom to support, Israel or Palestine, and was quite confused. As I have said before, I am easily influenced and if an intelligent person argues and convinces me sufficiently about something, I might just agree. But in this case, I wasn’t. I’m a peace lover (who isn’t eh?) and I don’t want war. I don’t want innocent people dying while going about their daily lives. So I can’t possibly pick sides because people are simply dying at the end of the day.

That’s when a beautiful write-up my friend wrote put things into perspective for me. His name is Varun Ram Iyer and he writes really well. Here’s what he wrote.

Picture credit: this website

Will you come home tonight Papa ?!

There are big rockets in the sky,

Mother says I must hide quick under the cot.

 

And that I cannot go out onto the street,

And play with my friends,

Although its pleasant, if smoke filled, but she says its too hot.

 

I haven’t been to school all week,

Teacher will be angry.

I  want to go, sit beside Salma, and laugh.

 

I want to do my homework, I’m hungy,

But ammi, has not cooked ghosht since you have gone.

All we have is bread now, Yasser and myself,

We sit under the table and split each slice into half.

 

There’s no electricity, no cartoons, no songs,

And the lights don’t come on in the night.

Wahad says they’re not firecrackers, but balls of fire that kill people,

He says that we must pick up a gun and fight.

 

But who are we fighting, papa, why are they killing us ?

I’ve been a good boy like you’ve told me to.

All I do is my math, and sleep at ten, and wake early,

And prepare for school – wear my uniform, comb my hair wet, and polish my shoe.

 

I don’t even kick soda cans at Arif the mongrel,

Because you told me that man must be nice to the animal kind.

Perhaps that doesn’t apply to humans after all,

They’re intelligent creatures with a far more evolved mind.

 

Papa, what is this promised land that they talk about,

And say that there is eternal peace for them to take.

But how will they celebrate over the corpses of hundreds.

After we’re all dead, will they say a prayer for their sake.

 

They say we started it, papa, I promise I didn’t,

I didn’t launch a Scud, I didn’t even peep out to have a look.

I’ve been sitting in my corner, all night, hungry and naked,

Witth ammi crying by my side, and reading a book.

 

Come home papa, we miss you, they told me,

You’ve gone to Allah, when they wrapped you in white, and took you yesterday.

There’s no water to wash the sheet, but I have a feeling,

That it wouldn’t make a difference, I don’t think those red stains will go away.

 

I miss you, but its alright, I’ll be a good boy,

If you’re up there with Allah, ask him a question for me if you could.

Whether this is a jihad, and whether we’re being attacked,

And is there something we must do, retailate if we should ?

 

Because I don’t know if I want to,

Kill other people, whoever they are,

I don’t want children on the other side, to see their fathers in a blood pool.

 

I’m sure they’re just as afraid,

just as hungry, just as lonely,

I’m sure they too want this to end,

So they can just wake up and go to school.

 

One day we will record these events in history,

And teach them to children in classrooms,

As our stories past.

 

But there maybe none.

No history. No classrooms .No children.

If we continue to butter our bread with bombs at breakfast.

 

#PrayForPalestine

 

I’ll leave you with that.