An Yell in the Night

Time would have been between three and four in the early morning. The city was in deep sleep, so were we. Suddenly an yell form down woke up all of us.

The yell was like somebody loosing his life. Oh my god! Has any body got murdered? Has anybody got electric shock? The scream was of short duration. It was like somebody crying on run. It raised to its high pitch and diffused into the night's silence. But it still ringed in the ears. 

The reverberations generated some uneasy thoughts in me. The temporality  of a human life came haunting. I sensed the plea of a helpless man wailing at the face of the death. Where is all the wealth and fame hard earned or ill earned in the life? Nothing can rescue you from that moment. 

What security do we have in the life? We may build concrete masons, lock it with two three doors, still there is insecurity. Immediately my thoughts went for the less privileged humans living in shanty houses or in the street. What security do they have? If any riot is occurring in the city they are ones who gets butchered. I wondered how they sleep peacefully every night. That may the reason they are very tough and cynic to what the politicians and government tells and do.

The yell can be of a caught thief, got beaten from behind. Poor man. My sympathy went to the thief. If a person is defying his biological cycle and awake in the night to steal, there should be enough reasons behind it. He who was taught this job by parents or masters; or who in dire need of money; or who is disenchanted with the inequality in the society;  or simply person in conflict with himself. None of the above can be solely attributed to him. The society at large is responsible for creating the thieves. Why should a person looting public blatantly sleep in security in this huge bungalow while the victims of the looting sleep bare on the roadsides? Who will punish the wrong doers? Who will bring justice? Let all the looters be robbed by thieves. But only the poor thieves will get beaten in the dark.

The whole neighborhood woke up. Lights are on. Some people are talking loud down. They are narrating the story. It was a robbery attempt. Nobody is harmed. It was the yell of our watchman, who noted the  thief in the shade. The half of my life came back. But the insecurity provoked by that yell did not allow me to sleep. The fear for the life of myself and the loved ones gripped me. And its repercussions took three-four days to quell.