The deliberate murder of school children to further a political ambition leaves a deep and lasting imprint on the minds of those who learn about it. This is real terror, beyond anything recently experienced in the developed world, and has happened in that melting cauldron, Pakistan. It is hard to understand the mentality of the murderers. I can understand the mentality of those who have gone on killing sprees in schools previously, not for political ends, but because their minds were warped from the normal mind that we encounter. What happened in Peshawar was different.
A single death of a child is hard to bear. The death of one hundred and thirty two little souls of promise is enough to make us weep, but within the conflict that has inflicted Pakistan and the surrounding regions one hundred and thirty two dead small people is just a fraction of the life and promise lost. It is better to concentrate on a single death, which makes it easier to understand.
D J Enright wrote
The greatest griefs shall find themselves inside the smallest cage.
It’s only then that we can hope to tame their rage.
The monsters we must live with.
For it will not do
To hiss humanity because one human threw
Us out of heart and home.
At odds with life because one baby failed to live.
Indeed, as little as its subject, is the wreath we give —
The big words fail to fit.
Like giant boxes
Round small bodies. Taking up improper room,
Where so much withering is, and so much bloom.