Living Dead

  • August 17, 2015
  • Blogs

It was another sad day yesterday.

A brave Minister lost his life to the terror he was dedicated to eradicating. A young police officer became a victim of the evil he professionally was determined to defeat. Along with them many more were martyred by the impure people, who have killed thousands in the Land of Pure.

This happened just two days after the Land of Pure had celebrated its most Pure Peaceful Independence Day in many years. The dark night of terror seemed to be giving way to a Dawn of Peace. It all now seems a wishful thinking.

The bullets of terror and despair take the lives of their targets. The targets go to a peaceful world.

Yet they leave behind many grieving and mourning for them forever.

My heart today goes to the mothers, wives, fathers, children, sisters and brothers of the martyrs. They must have the satisfaction that their loved ones perished while fighting a noble battle for their country and their people.

Yet in moments of extreme loneliness, will the widows of the martyrs not crave for a warm hand to hold, for shoulder to cry on and for someone to talk to. As the children or grandchildren celebrate milestones, will she not long for her life partner to share those joys with her?

A mother gives birth to a son and her greatest wish is that her son buries her. He takes care of her in her old age. Who will take care of the mothers of the martyrs? Who will bury them? Will she not miss her son as she grows old?

I think of the children of the martyrs. Children of any age need a father to be their protector, counselor and friend. No matter how old children become, they miss their fathers, if they are not around. Children of the martyrs would miss their parents at each and every milestone of their lives.

Think of an old father who has to bury his son, his anchor of support. Think of a sister, whose brother had to arrange a dowry for her. Think of a brother, whose brother had to educate him.

How do these people live? How does a plant live without water? It withers away. Do they whither? Do they live?
Do we care about them? Maybe we bury them also along with the dead. For I do not know of any effort made to reach out to these people who have lost their treasures in the hunt for terror.

For us they are living dead….but should they be living dead?




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