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Very few bring out the hate in me. I would count it to be two in this lifetime. One, a lady who has harmed me personally and another is a man, I have never met. This man was different.
I was unaware of his presence till one day, randomly I saw his picture in a morning daily. I was 21 and the year was 2001. There was something in his eyes that sent chills down my spine.
The iris in small, piercing and sunken eye gave very less space to the bright sclera. How could somebody’s pupil be as big as their iris. What were those eyes searching? For a moment, I could not breathe.
He was called a ‘Messiahs’. There was something wrong with me. Quickly, I threw the paper in the bin and dismissed the whole episode.
20 years later, I realize why it was so. Some of the fabric for the soul that clothes my body, may have come from the essence of holocausts victims.
A part of me remembered being dragged through the streets, bleeding and dying, part of me remembered being burnt alive, and a part of me remembered choking, dying, as I struggled for one more breath, gasping for air. I saw him,
I recognized him. I was and am stricken with fear, for I recognized him. I remembered him trying to weep in front of mirror as he practiced his speech. Now, after two decades, I understand, why I hate him so much, why can't I bear to look at his face. After twenty years, I realized why I could never trust this man, who now is the King of my land. My soul trembles when I see him; I know I am looking at the face of pure evil.
