I saw the video early in the morning. A little girl said adieu to her brave father. Her tears reflected resilience, her pride of being born to a man who went down fighting the militants. Her war outcry sent shrivels through my body. This moment is excruciatingly painful and it is way too personal for anyone to relate to. My early formative years were spent with defense kids. My morning prayers were spent singing at least one patriotic song. How much fun and difference did that make to my schooling? I thought patriotism is something innate, speaking about India in elocution competitions came with a flare. I aced them all, I sang them all. I religiously dreamt of joining the defense in some way or the other. Never knew where my destiny changed, suddenly rote memorisation and grades were the prime focus. The feeling that if I did not become a doctor, then I might as well claim the loser prize with whatever was left of dignity. Still, my dreams of joining the defense never completely vanished. Well, I could become a defense doctor. How noble would that be? It took me decades to realize that all the fancy dreams needed incredible amount of effort to make it through. Should have I tried year after year to make the cut? No, I was a coward to step up and take the challenge head on. I was too young to make a decision on my own. The feeling of losing a year, to prepare while my brethren went to college killed me. I just didnt have it in me to stand up for what it took. When I look back, I never once in my life ever thought I would step out of the country, my motherland. What could possibly make me forsake her. Brain drain, I was vehemently denouncing that whole concept. When my friends wrote in scrap books that they wanted to make it to IIT, for that was basically a euphemism to bid adieu to the motherland and fly off to greener pastures abroad. I looked at them as sinners, who valued monetary benefit more than their own land. So what changed? Why am I among the sinners now. I cannot begin to comprehend the course of transformation that came over me. I am changed beyond my own imagination. I look at the world with a whole different pair of glasses. Is it the international exposure speaking? Why does everything look different on the other side of the line, or to be precise border? I begin to question whose life is more noble and whom should I stand up for? The Pakistani soldier who died fighting for his country or the Indian soldier who did the same for his country. Both died for a cause they believed in. Are they more noble than the policeman who went down fighting the militants in France? What about the African kid who is going to die in a few hours in the hands of a ruthless militant? Given, the kid's life is not a sacrifice per se, he can blame his misfortune for being born in a country which has to constantly fight; a deadly disease or a ruthless militant or does it even matter as lives are always at stake either ways!Now more to the sensitive question? What about the militant who thinks, he died fighting for a cause?
The man-made territories and societies is what that makes all the difference? That brings us to the very basic question. What do their deaths have in common? All of them did make room for one more person on earth. Is this even a just comparison? Then how do we decide, whose death is noble? Whom would you pitch for if you had to? The answer might be easier, if you were related to them in one way or another.
Every birth is a miracle, every new born is clueless the commonality ends there. Lives matter, but not necessarily deaths. Why does that sound odd to our ears? May be because we are taught to sympathize and believe in the most poignantly 'presented' story to which we have deepest relations to. May be we tend to forget that all the life-stories are unique and noble in their own ways? Someone will be feeling the loss. Vantage makes the difference!
