We need to talk – you and I – without anybody to moderate our conversation. We need to talk about this border that separates us. About our history texts tarnished with lies to suit a section of the world. About how our hands were entwined so intricately with each other’s that when they tried to pry us apart faster than we expected, we didn’t have the time to let go of the other. Now we have a knot-shaped tangled mass of fingers lining our border, some fingers scarred, some bleeding.
I know that you have lost loved ones on the other side of your border. So have I. Maybe that is why as greedy hands of power try to pull us apart, tangling the knots further; even though I have now lost track of which finger is mine and which is yours, I refuse to play an active role in freeing my fingers away from you. How can I? We are a family.
They tell me that it is a fight for religion. They tell me that my country hates your country and your country hates mine. I honestly find that ridiculous. Aren’t we all individual genetic masterpieces? Generalising a nation to be of some kind would be a showcase of my ignorance. Differences of opinion can occur. That isn’t a crime. War, however, isn’t the solution.
We were victims of a crude plan of power hungry men willing to risk anything to rule. Even today, this hatred is being fed to us consciously by countries who benefit by this war. You see it too, don’t you?
While my country hikes it’s defence budget every year to get ready to fight you when the time comes; poverty, illiteracy, unemployment and lack of adequate healthcare remain the pressing issues. I am sure that you have your own set of hurdles in your country.
Here I am, extending a hand of friendship, silencing the voices around me that tell me that it will be chopped off; to instil in me the fear that will turn into violence. They feed on our hatred, you see.
But I find that my hand is already in yours, entwined as one at our border. They have buried it under years of bloodshed and hatred, but I can feel my fingers against yours. Can you?