Thursday, 22 November 2012

In the name of the father

I remember an old man laying on the hospital bed after his bypass surgery. Depressed... tired and beaten... just an old man, my father. The strongest figure of a man I've ever had in my life, laying there... thinking. How mortality is starting to catch up on him. How it has come to this. Asking himself the same question you have asked yourselves a million times by now, I am sure...

"Why is everything so wrong for me when I haven't done anything wrong?"

This old man, under tremendous pain, with tubes running down his throat and his beating heart fading, cannot think of anything else on what could likely have been his death bed that day, other than to get better as soon as possible so he can go back to work and make more money for his loved ones. The thought of leaving his family with nothing but debt was tearing him apart. This man, the strongest, most hard-working man I've ever known, praying to his god...not for heaven...but to grant him another chance to pay his debts. The human being I have loved like no other, looking at me with saddened eyes, holding my hand and saying "I can't die now, I have to work more." What do you say to a man like that? How do you comfort a man who has been educated to embrace discomfort and sufferings? How do you convince a man to rise a new man and claim his right to life, when the society which gave birth to him wants him exactly where he was before, playing the exact same role...? 

You can't. Even though my father was still alive, he was already gone... Today, I look at him and I sometimes see a smile on his face... which brings a smile to mine. He knows he wasted his youth, serving an institution that couldn't care less about him. An institution which demanded he paid for his health with the same currency you buy a TV set. An institution that thought 60 years of hard labour was not enough. But my presence alone brings him joy... and that joy gives him purpose. It gives his life meaning... this man is not just my father. He is my brother, my friend, my neighbour. He is you...

In this show we call "society" some of us chose to accept the brutality of their surroundings and play their role... while others, heartbroken and scarred by the constant struggles, chose to stay silent...and haven't spoken since.

Sooner or later, we all come to a point in our lives when we have to see our loved ones on their most vulnerable state. The time when you realise that you  cannot help them any more... the time when you see your self just exit your body and float in the silence, in a room which will hold the last breath of the one who gave you everything... absolutely everything...and never asked for anything back. The biggest lesson you will ever have in your life. When the one who brought you into this world, faces the heavens for the last time, and instead of asking for a place in heaven... he asks to see you. Think about that... he asks, for you.

I am a man of logic... I do not allow my emotions to make decisions for me. So I will approach this with logic. This society would've left my father to die if he couldn't pay his medical fee. So this society chose money over my father. And when my father was staring death in the eyes, he chose his son over eternal life. Now, with these factors in mind, if you are in any way associated or in support of such a heartless and senseless institution, ask yourselves this:


"What do you think it will take to stop me from tearing your world apart?!"


I cannot stay silent... I refuse to play a role in this massacre of people's happiness. I cannot turn my back to this burden. I cannot support an institution that has bled my loved ones and yours. I cannot allow my son to hold my hand one day and feel as I feel now, or carry the same pain and frustration my father has carried all of his life... there's nothing I can do for my father, and the pain is tearing me up inside... but there's one thing I can do for my son. I will not be silenced.... I will tear everything apart! And for every blood, sweat and tear of my father, and your father, and his father... upon the graves of their struggles... 

...I swear I will have my vengeance.


1 comment:

  1. This one touched me more than anything I have ever read in my life. Having similar if not identical experiences I totally understand what you're saying. Due to my experiences I am here doing what I do waiting for my time to tear our world apart.

    Thanks for this.

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