They will not be home for Eids. Their extra uniforms must be lying in the cupboards. They went out to school. Hours later, their parents waited outside the school gates, hoping for miracles, praying that their kids be among those who come out unharmed.
Had someone among those 134 unfortunates feigned sick and was still forced to go to school? Do their parents still regret that they sent the feigning sick kid to school anyway?
What happened of their clothes, their toys? What happened of their dreams? The clothes and toys must be lying there, the dreams got crushed. The clothes and toys must remind the mothers of the horrifying death their children have faced.
Horrifying death!
Horrifying death!
Horrifying death!
That is what it was. Period.
They did not set out to be martyred. They were not in a war with anybody.
The teachers and school staff did not choose the profession to stand in the line of fire.
Let’s not keep chanting the word ‘martyrs’ to forget that they were victims.
We are not supposed to glorify the Dec 16 that must haunt us for the rest of our lives. It was not a sacrifice willingly made. It was not a sacrifice at all. A sacrifice is an offering to some greater power. It is giving up something for the sake of some considerations. Ask the bereaved families, they would give up anything but their loved ones.
Don’t let the songs of remembrance, the words of the diplomacy and the speeches of consideration befool you. It’s not a day to be eulogized. It’s a day to commemorate with our heads hung in shame. Don’t start the hymns and songs and elegies yet. There is a lot to confess. Confess that we have failed. Confess that we are still failing.
