As I write this diary, cruise missiles and American fighter jets are pounding Afghanistan. The Taleban is attempting jihad with all its might. Pro-war and anti-war writings are sprouting like nobody's business. And the number of inconclusive discussions and innocent deaths are rising. I have hated war all my life. With all my heart. That atrocity called death and the helplessness of the people being killed churns my stomach. It preys on my mind for days on end, as it does, I am sure, with all peace-loving human beings. I know that in a war, humanity always loses. Whatever is the cause, however 'justifiable' it may be, to me it doesn't justify taking life. It's very hard to come to terms with death. There is no justice in it, whether it is by war or terrorism or disease. There is no such thing as an okay death, even when there is no one to cry. Anything other than natural death hits us harder, I think. Someone else than God snatching away life is extremely bothersome -- even to an atheist. Blaming God is easier. There are many questions about this war. But now, as I watch it unfold on my TV screen, I find everything else fading in my mind. Death takes precedence over them all, over all the 'small issues' I used to think about. It's getting tougher with the onslaught of news from all parts of the world. I myself forget which side I am on, which side I should take, which country I am even residing in. I have discovered how hard it is to switch off the television, to not read the newspaper or browse the Web. Newsreaders, fighter jets and faces of refugees form part of my breakfast, dinner and lunch. As days go by, I find it more and more hard not to get emotional, not to react, to brush off the disturbing images. I know I will get over it. Things will return to normal. The pangs of guilt I feel when I change the war bulletin channel for financial news will subside. The trouble my car gives will take precedence over world problems. Time is the balm here. Neither God nor Darwin has claimed credit for inventing it, but whoever said 'Time is a good healer' said it right. Poye pochu! Time will tell, maybe not in Tamil. Everything will fade, even the picture of the starved child I saw on television in a war-torn country. He kept staring at the camera as bombs exploded behind -- explosions he had seen plenty, but not a camera. I am just waiting for things to get normal again. Montage: Lynette Menezes Lebi Tom has just one prayer: peace be with the world. Tell us what you think of this diary Be part of an exciting venture! Write a Diary!
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