Sentiments

I was born and brought up in a country (India) thousands of miles away from Auschwitz. In School the War and the incidents that followed, are not much more than of academic interest. It was studied more, actually to gain those few more marks in History papers and later focus on more meaningful things like Math’s & Science. Our introduction to WW2 was more influenced by the commando comics and the exploits by its characters on both sides of fence.

Nevertheless some of us did look at awe at the Nazi exploits and its military might. But youth usually has its narrow and warped outlook to life.

My visit to Auschwitz & Birkenau was on the insistence of a friend and it changed my life forever. It was a transition from total indifference to anguish and shame as a human being.

The moment I stepped out of the bus I got that sinking feeling, as if death still lurks here. As we passed from one stage to another a snap short of a small girl child caught my eyes. She stared back at me and I just wondered what she must have missed in life.

The day she would have been dragged out of her house, would have changed her world completely. Maybe! She was about to go to sleep with her favorite dolls and waiting for the sun to rise the next day, to continue her games left unfinished. Her brother who she fought with and never had a chance to reconcile. The favorite pillow, without which she would have made hell for her parents, will never to bear her weight again. Those special corners of her house where she hid from her mother will never get scratched by her small hands. Those worried eyes of her father when they must have drag her away from him, will never be touched by her lips again. Those fleeting moments when her mother would have snatched her in her arms and cradled her to sleep will never happen again.

There would have been times when she went to sleep with hunger and wondering where her parents are? There would be times when she fell on the gravel and cried and wanted someone to console her, while all she got is a shove to line up at the parade ground.

In time am sure she would have taken this to be the real world and reconciled to reality. I wonder what happen to her, she lived or died. But what happen in those fleeting moments is what gave me a glimpse of what we as human beings are capable of under the influence of anger and hatred.

And worst of all, the entire price paid for it are the innocent children.

It’s been a long time since that visit, but whenever I see a conflict happening around the world, I think that child is reborn and the same atrocity been repeated all over again, in a different place with different agendas and different people. But the sentiments of that small girl child are all the same.