The Ghost Inside Me

I put my finger on their way and moved it back and forth, while they were crawling on the dusty ground, following a long trail of their fellow ants. It interrupted their caravan and blinded their ability to sense the surroundings. Some of them lost their way and never found it. I always enjoyed that scene – when they cluttered, rushed in all eight directions and sometimes stopped for a long time. Perhaps I was stupid. Or I was a sadist. But I had my reasons. How could they enjoy the fellowship of thousands, when I was all alone. How could they be so powerful despite being miniscule creatures, to carry the load greater than their own magnitude. How could they know their destination and follow that path, when I was lost.

Yes, I was resentful.

They never retaliated. My friend said they didn’t know that it was me who pestered them, else they would protest and take their revenge. But I never agreed to that explanation. Once I observed an ant carefully and it appeared to signify something. It stopped right in front of my eyes and moved its legs with supreme dominance. As if it was trying to tell me that it was strong – Strong enough to forgive me. That killed me, not literally though but I reacted. I always thought that every action deserved a reaction. I used the theories of great scientists in my own way. In case there was no reaction from the opposite side, I assumed that opposition deserved more action. And I continued. I squished the ant by placing it between my thumb and index finger and then I laughed. I was relieved, but somewhere inside I mourned for the poor ant, and that I never shared with anyone.

Years passed.

Now I live in a city, where crimes are not a rarity. They exist everywhere, function every day and are consistent in their performance, just like my previous relationship with ants. Murders too are a part of daily dose of news. And so are the other crimes. It makes me wonder if I was a murderer too. Ants also had lives that I terminated with my dominion.

But why was I happy at that point of time?

Probably the fact that ants didn’t express themselves. They didn’t let me know how cruel I was. Undoubtedly the cruelty had intruded my soul. If there was anyone guilty for that act, it had to be me. But… Not everyone has the tendency to realize their sins, to differentiate between right and wrong, to acknowledge their mistakes and refine their own souls. Those who suffer, have to rise against the evil, to show their worth. If they don’t, the evil will squeeze them with its power until they give up or lose the power to retaliate again, sometimes life. And remember – there are no second chances. Therefore, do not feel sorry if you suffer, but fight against it, to the point where you conquer the evil. Because…

Victims if remain silent, are held accountable for their own fate.

Amen.