The page has turned.
There is a qualitative difference this time around. Previous years were rife with remembrance. Sharp shards of unavoidable history.
But this year, I was hard-pressed to find them. What had previously been a deluge, now a trickle.
Maybe it’s me.
With the extraordinary adaptability of the human animal, I have subsumed you into daily life, feeling not terror, but wariness.
Such a lukewarm legacy. Was it worth it?
I see no time when our beliefs and cultures will mesh.
Enemies eternal. A common view, me and you. I bet it bothers you to share something, anything with the likes of me.
Like children in a schoolyard; one offering his lunch money, eager to make friends, form bonds, buy them if he has to. A little desperate to be liked.
The other filled with nameless rage and bared teeth, hating those whose very existence he feels invalidates his own. Acting out.
You envisioned a roar, but left only an echo.
Part of it is the passage of time.
But most of it is because I love my country with a ferocity that surpasses your fanaticism.
We’re still here.
One thought on “Letter to the Ghost of Osama Bin Laden”
Brilliantly written! Touches all, irrespective of cultures, boundaries and religions. Specially the end : “We’re still here.”
Comments are closed.