Courtesy: James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich
Religion
Has taken my sight
Taken my speech
Taken my hearing
Taken my arms
Taken my legs
Taken my soul
Left me with life in hell…
Sermons
Imprisoning me
All that I hear and do
Absolute horror
I cannot think
I cannot talk
Trapped in myself
Body my holding cell…
Hold my breath, as I wish for (other religions) death…
Oh please God save me!!!
Everything is so calm and peaceful… the sun is overhead and burning brightly. Not that I care much about the heat, tucked away comfortably in this underground nuclear shielded bunker fortress, I am indifferent to the elements of nature. I can’t believe it! It took less than an hour to accomplish the task. As I look at the multiple screens in front of me, a sense of satisfaction grips my inner self and manifests itself in the form of a grin on my lips. Finally, I have achieved what was deemed impossible during this nuclear age- Global Peace. Yes! Indeed global peace is here…. The images on the screens in front of me, flipping rapidly across various part of the world, confirm this – cities destroyed, civilizations wiped out, ecosystems obliterated. The world is shrouded in a black billowing blanket of peace.
It is so quiet, I can even hear the clock tick on the desk…tick tick tick.
I click some buttons, and the imagery on one of the screens gives way to some numbers. My eyes rest on the only line that matters most, Total nuclear warheads: 5; it is reassuring to confirm that the only weapons of mass destruction left in the world, are here, deep inside this fortress and at my disposal. The grin gives way to a hideous laugh.
The clock ticks…
But then I must not be too complacent as I was with Noah. Poor Noah should have known better than to try and stop me. What did that fucking bastard think I was doing all this for? Building this nuclear arsenal, for nothing? Had I not stopped him in time, all this meticulous planning would have been a waste. And here he lies now, in a pool of his own blood, at my feet. I kick the corpse hard…and let out an eerie laugh. I had to kill him, there was no choice, or it would have been me…Sacrifices fuel world peace.
The clock continues to tick…
I click some more buttons and more numbers scroll on the screen. Once again, my eyes pick up the ones that matter, Total Animal Population: 3. Yes, sacrifices do fuel world peace. After 60 mins of furious clicking, launching and maneuvering 300 warheads and wiping out the entire pig race, albeit three – the couple locked away safely and me – I have achieved world peace. I have gotten rid of all issues of mankind: intolerance, hatred, religion, race, caste, creed, hunger and poverty. I have sowed the seeds of utopia right here in my Ark, a world that will have a real flesh and blood God, a just and all seeing God, a God that shall not fail.
The clock keeps ticking…
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a wave of panic grips me. Something seems to be out of order, certainly not right. My eyes wander across the room… Noah on the floor…the panels on the wall…flashing statistics…the weapons are status quo…the clock on the desk…the caged couple in the corner…my eyes dart back to the clock. An icy chill fills my heart as I realize that hands of the clock are not moving, but the ticking is still loud and persistent. I am filled with dread and despair as my eyes pick Noah’s lifeless form and my feet are drawn towards it. The dead body is ticking and it gets louder as I approach it. I close my eyes and shudder as I remember Noah’s laughter just before he died; just then a loud explosion engulfs the room and wipes out everything…the charred remains of the screen display, Total Animal Population: 0
ACT I
The beautiful black pony is grazing in the green fields. A balmy summer breeze blows through the meadows, it is very calm and serene, akin to the garden of Eden.
Out from the bushes emerges a chubby little pink piglet, trots up to the little pony and whispers, “Hello there, my little pony!”
Startled the pony turns, and on seeing the piglet, relaxes and answers, “Fine and how are you friend Napoleon?”
“Well I am a little sad, sad that you have to come to the meadows for food everyday. Such a waste, really!”
“No Napoleon, it’s all right. I love grazing on these grounds.”
The piglet has a sudden rush of blood, and shouts “BUT these are OUR groun-.” Quickly, he checks himself and cajoles, “Would you rather not have a nice meal, and probably some new shoes?”
“Really? Where?” asks the wide-eyed pony.
Piglet hastily replies,” There just around the corner, in that dilapidated building.”
The pony after some deliberation, answers with a note of suspicion in her tone, “Is it safe? My dad will be coming along shortly.”
“Absolutely, it’s an abandoned place of worship. Our forefathers used to pray and perform religious activities, it has the stamp of God all over it!”
Pony asks in confusion, “Whose God, Napoleon?”
Piglet, mocking anger, “Oh darn it, forget all about it.” He tries to walk away.
The pony beckons the piglet, “Stop Napoleon. I will come with you. Since the place is close by we will be back in no time.”
ACT II
As soon as the pony and pig enter the building, someone shuts the door close. As her eyes adjust to the darkness, the pony makes out forms of four adult pigs, lassoes in hand and sinister grins on faces. All of them throw lassoes around her head, and pull her crashing to the ground. Immediately, they tie her legs to posts, the poor pony has no chance against the might of four fully grown pigs.
Pleadingly, she cries out, “Friend Napoleon, what is happening?”
The leader of the pack snarls, “I will tell you what is happening! Your horse tribes are grazing away on our lands, and slowly occupying them. You are not to be grazing on these meadows or even occupying them. Do you understand? Remove the thought from your mind, wipe it OUT.”
Pony, in tears, but still resilient retorts, “But…but these are free lands, my mom and dad told me so.
“Shut up!”, shouts another pig. “Your lowly tribe is idiot, they know nothing about the laws. It’s written in the scriptures. The land belongs to us supreme beings.”
As if on cue, Napoleon squeals, “Stop talking and teach her a lesson.”
At which point whips, lances and sticks are produced, the pigs pick up their weapon of choice and run towards the captive pony. The screams of the pony shake the very foundations of the dilapidated structure. There are ancient pictures on the walls; one depicts a man trying to cover up a pony that was being disrobed by 100 pigs, however today no God or Men come to the rescue of the poor lowly pony. Her bloodcurdling screams and agony fall on deaf, ignorant, illiterate and ill-tolerant ears.
This violation of pony continues for another day, and then another, and another and another, and another, and yet another. It took God or whoever created the universe seven days to create it. The pigs took the same time to break the pony. On the seventh day, with all its will, senses and body broken the pony could only whimper and plead, “This is not my land…we low beings wil…go go go away…..and neverrr…..return. Please …. let ….me…go please.”
The pigs are huddled in a corner trying to decide her fate. Finally, they make an unanimous decision to kill the little pony to teach her family and tribe a lesson.
The lesson that not all animals are born equal.
Some animals have more rights than others.
Not all animals are born free, some animal have more freedom than others.
It’s not a free land, few animals with rights own and rule the land as well as everything on it.
The poor unequal pony is stoned to death, and its un-free body is thrown in the meadows. A balmy breeze is still blowing; however, a serpent had encroached Eden.
ACT III
The dogs got on the case as soon as the pony’s family filed a complaint. In fact, based on some solid leads, a pack of faithful dogs crack the case, and are on their way to the animal farm to apprehend the pigs when a group of ducks block their path.
“You cannot do this! Pigs have never been lustful or hateful animals. They have done nothing wrong. It must be the pony’s fault. There have not been any violations. This will be a disgrace against animals.”
A pack of wolves, materializes out of nowhere and starts shouting. “This is an religious outrage, a carefully planned conspiracy by the horses to implicate the pigs. It’s all religious, and has no lustful implications. For heavens sake, it was a religious facility, performing religious activities for generations, and these are very religious pigs.”
Bright flashes suddenly go off, as a group of apes come tearing through clicking cameras slung around their necks. “Wait wait wait! Let us get to the details of the story. We can prove that this is a hate crime, and not a lustful or religious crime. We have data to prove it.”
Thus, the animals join in the circus; cacophony and chaos reigns supreme as the debate rages on.
Meanwhile, the horses stand in a forgotten corner, with the dead body of the un-free pony. They turn their back on the ruckus, and start digging an un-free grave. All of a sudden, silence falls over the group, the horses turn around to see all the other animals surrounding them.
Wolves bark, “Stop. You cannot bury the body here. This act will violate the sacrilege ground.”
Ducks quack, “It’s not yet completely proved what kind of crime it is. You cannot do anything with the body.”
The all-capturing monkeys hoot, “We believe we should take this matter to the highest jurisdiction of the land, to the courts of the Men!”
“YES! YES! YES!” They all shout in unison. “Let’s take this matter to the Men. They will decide it now.”
Meanwhile, inside the barn, Young free Napoleon uncorks a bottle of champagne, fills out glasses and turns the radio on. A very old and ancient voice blares out a sad song in a melancholy tone. The pig leader rasps, “Shut it off, play something cheerful and peppy!”
But not before the words from the radio have flown out..
Out in the valley
Out in the meadows,
Out in the streams and rivers
Out in the jungles
Out to the animals
Out to the civilization,
Out to the religions, to the races
Out to the justice halls, to the temples
Out to the harems, to the schools
Out to the universe…
Out to the Creator…
And to the Distorter.
A silence falls over the valley…after a long pause, from somewhere deep in the universe a voice reverberates:
References:
1.Animal Farm: George Orwell(1948)
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Animal_Farm
2.Jinhe naaz hain: Sahir Ludhianvi original poem Chakle, adapted as a song in movie Pyaasa(1957)
http://sahir-ludhianvi.blogspot.com/2011/05/1957jinhe-naaz-hai-hind-pe-wo-kahan.html
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KeOXZAviPwM
3.Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaye: Sahir Ludhianvi, original poem Duniya, adapted as a song in movie Pyaasa(1957)
http://sahir-ludhianvi.blogspot.com/2011/05/1957-yeh-duniya-agar-mil-bhi-jaaye-to.html
Truth Speaks... 