silent all these years

so a colleague got hurt in the tuesday’s bomb blasts. standing at the door, he got throw out with the explosion and hurt his right hand, enough to set him back by a minimum of 6 months. so we, at work – a small bunch of people suddenly became the affected lot. there were wise observations, calculated talk, sometimes harsh opinions and more importantly questions from otherwise supremely indifferent people. i tried to steer clear. i have little knowledge about the politics of it all, which i believe is fairly twisted and deep-rooted. but i understand enough to make it a point to be neutral in sensitive times as these. and surprisingly, i don’t feel rage either. i don’t feel the need to ask: why innocent people? i don’t want to point fingers and bring to fore totally unconnected things of a certain religion and its practices, somehow link them up with the current happenings and then claim to have a eureka moment.
see? they asked. no, i don’t.
on the other hand, there could be some answers to these questions when they are asked to the ones who’ve lost their kin. ask them, do they feel rage. tell them there was not even a remote possibility that their loved one who got killed, knew the one who killed him. let alone the possibility of having done him bad and deserve to die, this way. ask the people who lost their limbs whether they will set out to revenge with the remaining parts of their body. question a victim’s family whether they will move court to seek justice for the cold-blooded murder of their son, or father or brother. their answers will be seen in their blank eyes, their hung heads, their drooped shoulders. if this doesn’t convince the question-mongers about the futility of their questions, not much else will.

going by history, we know events such as these are part of the cause and effect equation. something, somewhere, somehow triggers something else. we will never be able to play back on this chain of reactions which in our country runs back to decades ago. someone even spoke about partition yesterday. so where were we headed with this by looking back, with not even half knowledge. today i was telling a friend about this same thing and asked him if he wants to accompany me in a ladies compartment in a burqa and hear the conversations…sometimes utterly shocking ones. where unimaginary things are thought-out and expressed with much drama and then brilliantly bound to the larger issues. and then a halo develops around their little heads. my friend, a wise man that he is, reciprocated by saying ‘women abhor conversational vacuum.’ i’ll have to agree. now imagine these ‘duly filled’ conversations happening in public places, in loud volumes and with much fervour. now imagine a fanatic in the vicinity, or a fanatic in the making, an impressionable one with an evil bent of mind and much worse conditioning. imagine what he'll carry with him. i remind myself, something, somewhere triggers. i’d any day prefer a vacuum, a mouth closed shut, a silent voice.