Paris, 11/13/2015. Dealing with numbers is useless. Numbers can give us the idea of what happened, but with numbers we remain on the surface and we don’t go beyond news. Numbers represent people and, in a way or in another, they also hide them. As a consequence of this, those people sink into oblivion.
A year ago Paris was the victim of a massacre and the only thing that the newscast can remind us about that tragic event is the number of deaths.
We are living our lives like tightrope walkers, performing for the first time. Inexperienced. So at any moment we could fall down. Or, maybe, someone could make us fall down.We are living our everyday life unaware of what could happen to us and unaware of how precious is life. We live in order to try to complete our tasks and literally to run after our deadlines. While we don’t know actually when our last deadline will take place.
Today I remember that during that horrific night the world seemed to me a battlefield, whose trenches were situated everything: a supermarket, a theatre, an airport and so on. A battle in which neither civilians nor warriors win. Nobody wins. Everybody dies.
According to the majority of people, that battlefield is just a memory, namely something which doesn’t exist anymore, except in our minds. It’s wrong: everyday, for instance in Middle East, many innocents die. The Problem (with capital “P”) is that the death of an innocent person in Middle East, in Nigeria or in North Africa doesn’t strike us as a death in Paris. We are not accustomed to a bomb in the centre of Paris, London or Madrid.
If our heart reacted to a death in Middle East as it reacts to the news of the attack to Paris, maybe the world would be a better place for everybody. Are deaths all equal? They should, but unfortunately for may people they aren’t.
I’d like to end this post with a short quotation I read some months ago: “If we had a moment of silence for the victims of Paris, then for Syria the whole mankind should stop talking for eternity.”