A Man Just Died On The Border: A Tale of Insignificance and Foolishness of Human Conceits

 

A man just died on the LOC — Line Of Control. A man-made line since 1947 on this globe that came into existence long long before those who ‘drew’ it came into existence themselves. This line was drawn to mark and differentiate two countries namely, India and Pakistan who till that day lived in co-existence as colonies under another nation called England who had built an empire where ‘sun never set’. These two nations called it quit and actually, this was the first BRexit from history! But alas, like many other inventions from subcontinent, this too went unnoticed.

He didn’t simply die like god would will it otherwise but was shot. A whizzing bullet straight to his head, sideways. Someone aimed it center but missed his mark yet the man died. What a poor creature. This planet of ours which is revolving around a star named ‘Sun’ in a galaxy called ‘Milky Way’ and universe which is infinite with umpteen galaxies, and still more umpteen stars and planets is inhabited by many creatures. We are yet to discover any form of life outside our own globe but this globe alone has many creatures living around different environments — some favorable and some hostile. Science will tell us how once different continents were not so far apart as they are today. They moved due to movement of tectonic plates. That was nature dividing land. Then came humans who drew their own boundaries like LOC and many others. And then started guarding them in case someone crossed from across the border. We didn’t had enough jobs back then, so we essentially created few more. That’s how army came into being! #NoOffence

He probably crossed from one side to another. Maybe not. Crossing is common on borders and sometimes people just gets lost. The line at places has been drawn cutting people’s farmlands into two halves. Their fields once belonged to one nation, one world but after that fateful night in 1947, everything has changed. They were told they can’t go to other part of their own field. They were told. They obeyed. Poor souls. How can they deny to someone holding gun. Silly how they have always been coed down by gunmen. Before that night in 1947, gunmen were outsiders, firangi, white men from England. Today, they are their own people — Brown Men. There was once time when men used to hunt and eat like other animals of the jungle. He woke up as sun rose and slept as sun came down, his life was one with nature. Today, man has evolved. Nature is no more his ally, technology is his new friend. If light on his pale screen goes red, he shoots the other men. Simple. Life has become simple nowadays. It is more Black and White, Grey has long been shot dead.

Imagine you are from one nation that belongs to one side of the border. Obviously, you have to react now. What would be your reaction? The only information you have is of a man who is shot dead. You know for sure, he has been killed by another man. Will you weep? Will you say ‘RIP Soldier’? Or will you feel ‘triumphed’, ‘ecstatic’ and post stuff like, “Bravo Commander!”, “He was taught a lesson”? People are yet to identify the dead. People are yet to shed their first tear for fellow being. People are yet to celebrate one down. People are yet to… 

“I shot the bastard!”

Someone from a high tower on one side of a border called out like a hunter calling his hunt. He had shot his enemy. There was no remorse, no cringing on the face. Enemy has been grounded for good. 

“How was he his enemy?” 

“Did they ever met?” 

“Did they had any brawl?”

“He belonged to other side!” 

“Other side belongs to enemies!”

Now imagine, the man who killed belonged to where you belong. Your piece of land will proudly celebrate the moment. Killer will be given honorary medal, his praises will be written and sang. He killed an enemy.

If you happen to be from other side. From a piece of land where the man who lost his life came. You’ll probably be shedding tears. Writing obituaries. The deceased probably has been called a martyr. That’s the name given to someone who loses his life around borders by nations to they belong. 

A man gets killed. One who got killed is called an enemy and worse on one side while other side prays for his soul and calls him martyr. Killer gets a medal on one side while other side vows to kill him another day, to avenge the martyr. It’s the same story across border since 1947. Killer getting medals while the deceased getting engraved his name in stone under the martyr category albeit on different sides of the border.

This is story across the world not just on LOC. What changes on days like that fateful day in 1947? From one flag we got two, from one name we went for two names for what once was ‘one piece of land’. People who fought their common enemy under one banner from that day started fighting amongst themselves under different banners. Why? What changed? 

It’s like we fought British forces not because we got fed up of them but because we got fed up of same old enemy and we wanted new one. And we created new one from ourselves. You see we’ve evolved. We like hunting and now that hunting animals is banned, we hunt humans. Voila!

Seen from about 6 billion kilometers, Earth appears as a tiny dot within the darkness of deep space. Courtesy: Wikipedia

We succeeded in taking that picture, and, if you look at it, you see a dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived out their lives. The aggregate of all our joys and sufferings, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilizations, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every hopeful child, every mother and father, every inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there — on a mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.

[…] To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

— Carl Sagan, speech at Cornell University, October 13, 1994

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