A moment of silence
You hear the thunderous sound of pelting stones raining down on your men. You hear them mutter in annoyance as the irritating thuds of these tiny rocks hammer down on their heavily armoured vest and the metallic beasts you had unnecessary called. And then you hear the barbaric shouts from the other camp. You hear them scream in rage and in defiance. They scream God's name in fury, "Allahu Akbar", God is Great! Their anger permeates through your tense muscles, matching the boiling anger that you feel inside yourself too. They do not know the BIG picture! They do not know what is good for them! Look at my men, you say. Look at the future! Get rid of these backward creatures. They are not our brothers, they are starving the nation. They are starving us. Do not use God's name so easily!
But listen more closely my brother. Listen and taste the difference in the air. Can you not hear the sound of the stones dying away? Each stone that lands on your precious square, they quiver with fear and they quiver with hope. Hope that you are mercilessly extinguishing in the name of progress and prosperity. Now listen more closely my brother. Hear their shouts and tell me, do you not hear that choked voice. The exasperation and anguish as they wallow in the blood and tears of their fellow brothers slain. They too want progress brother and they think you are the backward creature. There are children and women. They are the patriots of the nation, the blood of the future. They wave the flag as proudly as your men, some even more. These people you disperse like stray dogs in the street believed deeply in the future of their country. Does shedding the tears and blood give you satisfaction? Tell me brother. Deep down, they clutch the flag as tightly as you clutch your gun. They had faith while you lost yours. All in the pursuit of secular democracy.
Lift your gazes, my brothers, and look at the wounded. Hear not the profanities they speak but the tears that stain the floor. They want the Brotherhood, fairly won the elections, and you may be upset but give them the chance to rule the people, to instil their dogmas and then fairly win them in the next elections. But you chose the path of the damned. You chose to stain your hands with blood. You chose to kill the men you pledge to help. Lift your hands and prostrate. Seek forgiveness before it is too late. You have not united the country my brother, you have blatantly divided the nation into three portions.
Brothers-in-arms, is it right to take the life of your fellow countrymen? There is a way out to solve the inevitable. A compromise has to be made. In pen and ink and words. Not in extermination. Not in annihilation. Do you think the public will welcome you with flowers and roses when they know of your ruthlessness. They will gladly welcome you with bullets and hug you tightly with suicide vests. Act restraint my brother and seek forgiveness. Humble yourself and hear the pain. A little note for you... Take a moment of silence and you will see the difference.
But listen more closely my brother. Listen and taste the difference in the air. Can you not hear the sound of the stones dying away? Each stone that lands on your precious square, they quiver with fear and they quiver with hope. Hope that you are mercilessly extinguishing in the name of progress and prosperity. Now listen more closely my brother. Hear their shouts and tell me, do you not hear that choked voice. The exasperation and anguish as they wallow in the blood and tears of their fellow brothers slain. They too want progress brother and they think you are the backward creature. There are children and women. They are the patriots of the nation, the blood of the future. They wave the flag as proudly as your men, some even more. These people you disperse like stray dogs in the street believed deeply in the future of their country. Does shedding the tears and blood give you satisfaction? Tell me brother. Deep down, they clutch the flag as tightly as you clutch your gun. They had faith while you lost yours. All in the pursuit of secular democracy.
Lift your gazes, my brothers, and look at the wounded. Hear not the profanities they speak but the tears that stain the floor. They want the Brotherhood, fairly won the elections, and you may be upset but give them the chance to rule the people, to instil their dogmas and then fairly win them in the next elections. But you chose the path of the damned. You chose to stain your hands with blood. You chose to kill the men you pledge to help. Lift your hands and prostrate. Seek forgiveness before it is too late. You have not united the country my brother, you have blatantly divided the nation into three portions.
Brothers-in-arms, is it right to take the life of your fellow countrymen? There is a way out to solve the inevitable. A compromise has to be made. In pen and ink and words. Not in extermination. Not in annihilation. Do you think the public will welcome you with flowers and roses when they know of your ruthlessness. They will gladly welcome you with bullets and hug you tightly with suicide vests. Act restraint my brother and seek forgiveness. Humble yourself and hear the pain. A little note for you... Take a moment of silence and you will see the difference.
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