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Showing posts from September, 2015

Some Unanswered Questions of Aylan Kurdi

“Where was Rudy’s Comfort? Who was there to soothe him as life’s rug was snatched from under his sleeping feet?...He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It is his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cries.” – (Markus Zusak “The Book Thief”)
Here is Death, as the Narrator speaking about the death of fourteen year old, Rudy Steiner. Some souls weigh heavy even on death’s conscience. A dying child’s soul is like that.
In a world of 24 hours news and the information oscillating between insensitive and insane, some pictures hang about on our collective conscience. The hang like gray clouds hovering over our minds, tormenting our hearts, haunting our souls. The Book Thief (above) was written about the World War II. We would want to believe that the world has move far ahead in this time. Some events pull us up from our obnoxious slumber, wrench our heart and hits our head with hammer heavy enough to crush into powder the whole behemoth of mankind.  These pictures, these…