Closure. Completeness. A release from all inner sorrows. The end of mourning and beginning of healing.
I wonder what it feels like. Whether it truly exists or do people pretend? Pretend it doesn’t hurt anymore, that they won’t be brought to tears again while seeing a ragged picture or reliving a happier memory, that a distant sound of crackers or a gun being fired won’t remind them of buried horrors or send them into spasms of fright, that God won’t do it to them again, that prayer and counseling will help.
What about the scars those wounds leave behind, do they ever fade?
How do people get closure? Does revenge do it or forgiveness? Do they lose their minds, go insane or succumb to the pain of their losses and give up on life? Or maybe they do just the opposite and unknowingly, or on purpose, block out everything, not knowing or realizing what really happened to them. Do they ever really live, get to be normal?
What about the new mother who never got to see her baby grow up or the doctor who couldn’t wash away the blood of countless victims from his hands no matter how hard he tried?
These questions have been popping up in my mind all day. But I know these questions appeared for a reason. Ever since I heard Kasab was hanged this morning in a strange hushed up manner without so much as a whisper to his family or the families of his victims, ever since I heard people cheering, ecstatic, relieved that finally, even if late, this episode was finally over.
Who was he, will we ever really know?
All we know is he was Mohammed Ajmal Amir Kasab whom everyone hated because the people I mentioned earlier, they’re real and what happened to them, it was real. And who did that to them, they were real too. And one of them was Kasab.
After spending Crores of Rupees for the past four years for keeping him safe from the angry public or from himself while in custody, giving into his whims-and-fancies from what we’ve got to hear from media reports, it’s hardly anyone’s fault – especially the common man paying his taxes just to see it spent on keeping a lowlife life Kasab safe and alive – for feeling relieved.
I can’t even begin to imagine how the survivors, the families of the victims and the ones who came so near to death that day feel today. I start wondering if this will give them some solace, a little comfort? Are they rejoicing like everyone else? Then I just challenge my last sentiments by thinking how can anyone feel happy taking someone’s – even someone as evil as Kasab – life. Didn’t Kasab have a right? Didn’t he have a mother too-for whom he’d always be her little boy, no matter what – who had the right to know that it would be her son’s last day on earth?
I struggle again with those questions as another voice in my head retaliates with a whole new one. Didn’t all of Kasab’s victims have the same rights? And there it is; the confusion again. I don’t have an answer but I wonder if someone being sent to the gallows is the only answer, the only solution and the only justice that can be offered.
We all know how the legal system works, I know we are a pro death-penalty nation, but my mind still can’t grasp the fact that killing someone will help us heal, help us mourn for the ones we lost. Are we not doing the same thing too?
Is the law bigger than a person’s life? Are we really sure, we aren’t creating monsters of our own?
Most people will say, “You’re not a victim. You’ll never understand their stand, their feelings, their anger and grief”. I know that and they’re right, but I still wonder whether these people who lost everything, really understand too, whether this was really their stand or did it just get lost somewhere in the sea of angry protesters, and if anyone till now has ever even begin to comprehend the extent of outrageous actions human beings are capable of inflicting upon each other, and when they do so, what really is the right thing to do?
I guess we’ll never know the difference between morally right and legally right. So in the end, there’s nowhere to go to but to the notion of closure and all that it implies.
“Morally, no one has the right to judge anyone else. But legally, it’s not a right-it’s a responsibility.” ~ Jodi Picoult in Nineteen Minutes