they falsely promise glorious days for the orphans
who will never give up the vision of their
great-grandparents nakbatised by British Zionists
this heartless plan of the President
will never appease these starving children,
who will never give up hope
they know that from death new life is born
let the sea roar!
……..
JOHN P. PORTELLI
John P. Portelli is a Professor Emeritus, University of Toronto, originally from Malta, and author of 11 collections of poetry, two collections of short stories and a novel. His work in Maltese has been translated into English, French, Italian, Arabic, Farsi, Turkish, Greek, Spanish, Polish, Hungarian, Romanian, Serbian and Korean. While he migrated to Canada in 1977 and settled in Montreal, and later in Halifax and Toronto, now he lives between Toronto and Malta.
EVIL, CRIME AND VIOLENCE: HAS GOD FINALLY LOST THE BATTLE?
What keeps us holding on while watching a movie is not the even flow of events, but we always look for how and when things take a twist, a villain is introduced, and the film ends with a brutal fight in which the villain is killed and his empire decimated embodying the great ethical message that good always triumphs over evil. I have never seen a movie in which the protagonist is killed at the end, and evil is shown prospering. However, the movies of contemporary times sometimes come up with blended stories which present victims who turn villains and take on society or their tormentors. I am reminded of ‘Deewar’ in which a victimized child turns out to be a great mafia don. He was getting back on the society which had caused the death of his father, and brought the family to ruin.
When we look back at literature, and, in particular, drama, we wonder how comedy stands nowhere in comparison to the impact, the tragedy leaves on the mind of man. If we talk of lasting impact, it comes only from tragedy. Tragedy is nothing but violence which is given an aesthetic turn so that finally it evokes a wholesome response from the audience. ‘Oedipus’ ‘Macbeth’ ‘Julius Caesar’ ‘Hamlet’ are immortal works which have left a lasting impact on the mind of man, finally making them emerge as better human beings.
If we are shown a film in which people are living a happy life, after some time, we shall start feeling, why we are wasting time. What is there in it. So, that ‘what’ which we are looking for in a film is some villain, something going wrong, so that it leads to some ‘thrills’ and thrills are not possible until things take a twist, and go wrong. If we look back at Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’, nobody will read it if Satan is dropped. Evil and violence are essential to make peace and poise, meaningful and worth craving for. When evil dies, we heave a sigh of unmixed relief. It is another thing this feeling of relief is different if we are watching a tragedy by Sophocles or Shakespeare. The students of literature know a tragedy effects catharsis by purging the feelings of pity and fear, thus restoring the mental balance of the audience.
Violence that we watch before our eyes on the road is different from the violence we watch in a film or even drama. Distance lends charm, even to a vile thing like a violent death. Actual violence evokes anger, and a feeling of revenge, while the reported violence makes us sit and reflect, and the servicing of our mind gets into operation.
Learning what is good may be a difficult lesson. But the instinct for the evil is quite intrinsic to mankind. Our nervous system reports faster to malignant impulses. Still, truth and untruth, and good and evil remain intertwined and in order to understand good, we have to have an instant understanding of what is evil and where good ends and evil begins. In this way, the study of evil is more important than the study of good, because when we study evil, we shall automatically understand, what is not evil, and all that is not evil is good.
Sometimes I wonder how we dislike the easy flow of life. What we call ‘illat’ in Punjabi is ‘mischief’ in English. Mischief is the sapling from which the tree of crime takes shape. Mischief in its infancy dons an aura of pleasantness, which we tend to enjoy. But it starts giving us headache when mischief takes the shape of mistakes, and when mistakes become a habit, they become the cause of cardiac arrest for the society: that is crime. A mistake can be corrected, and atoned for, but for a crime, one has suffer. The only reason why the perpetrator of a crime has to suffer is that he makes others suffer, and unless he himself suffers, the account cannot be squared.
How evil is interspersed in our being, we can judge it easily if we filter the ideas that enter and fleet from our mind for an hour. We shall soon come to realize how evil comes so naturally to man, while for doing good, we have to force ourselves into strict discipline, and even train our mind to think right thoughts. It is shocking and surprising too, that we need no training in doing evil, while we need gurus, scriptures, oracles, and pilgrimages to understand the idea of good.
The real surprise is we have a huge array of religions, and prophets, and their teachings, their sacrifices, and their shrines which dot the earth in millions. India has a great spiritual legacy [which country hasn’t have her own?] like the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. The Bhagwad Gita is the greatest spiritual text for right living. So, is the Guru Granth Sahib which represents the Sikh Faith. If we go further into it, we shall see how people like Yogis, Nagas, Boddhis and Lamas are required to undergo rigorous training of body and mind, to keep their minds in trim. They wear a particular dress, and lead rigorous lives, and they are told that they must keep muttering the name of God all the time.
I cannot imagine how great is the lure of evil and violence in our lives! They always keep us on tenterhooks, always trying to destabilize us and cause our fall. The paradox is startling. For evil, you need no training. You can do it very naturally. Rather, if you indulge in evil, you feel so natural and normal. But, if you are told to do good, you need the backing of religious rigour, and when you do it, it is not done, it is performed, like a duty. To be good is a duty. And, you know, a duty is a task assigned to us much against our will. How happily we perform our duties?
I don’t question why Eve fell to Satan’s insinuations. Even Adam could have fallen, had Satan tried his art at him. But, I think Satan knew our modern dictum which has been the subject of declamation contests. If you teach a man, you teach only one person. But if you teach a woman, you teach a whole family. Satan might have been thinking of devastating the entire tribe by poisoning Eve’s ears. The original tribe was endowed with Original Intelligence, in the form of Innocence [which does not, however, mean Ignorance]. Satan attacked it very cautiously. He proposed that they should get knowledge and know more and more about themselves and their existential conditions. It was tempting for them. Evil’s greatest quality is that it tempts. Men fall because of greed. That is why, Lustus, the neo-mythical heir of Satan is shown as blessed by Greda, the goddess of Greed [neo-mythology]. In fact, when man is greedy, he can be tempted which means he has said good bye to reason and sense. It is a perverted form of trance, in which reason is put in abeyance, and man does not know when he has glided into the glittering world of crime and violence. Just as Truth has a physical dimension in Ethics, Evil has a physical manifestation in Violence. How we love it? Our world, our newspapers are full of news items relating to crime, killings, abductions, arson, accidents, heists and scams. They never upset us. That is the neo-normal. Rather what upsets us is the absence of a villain and violence from a piece of life, as much as in a film.
The Author
Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, [the Seneca, Charter of Morava, Franz Kafka and Maxim Gorky award and Signs Peace Award Laureate, with an opus of 180 books, whose name adorns the Poets’ Rock in Serbia]] is a towering literary figure whose work embodies a rare fusion of creativity, intellect, and moral vision.
CHAPTER I – Dreams Born in the Shadow of the Harvest I was born in a simple village. Here, mornings began before the sun rose and after the work was done. People didn’t consider us rich, but we had one treasure — patience. My parents would head to the fields early in the morning. I sat in a classroom with faded walls, flipping through every page of the textbook like it was a treasure. My passion for books was strange — they gave me a light, hopeful feeling. Every word, every verse seemed to whisper: “Though you are here for now, another path awaits you.” But that path wasn’t easy to reach. In grades seven and eight, I would open my notebook at night, exhausted from the fieldwork. On top of my fatigue came my mother’s soft but heavy words: “What will studying bring you? Better find a job.” Her words weren’t wrong. She lived on one side of life, while I was discovering the other.
CHAPTER II – One Room, One Dream, One Sharp Truth I will never forget the day I arrived in the city. A dorm room shared with three others, stuffy air, a heart full of questions. I remember dipping my mom’s homemade bread in hot water during the first week. The city felt foreign — noise, flashy ads, indifferent faces. I was a village boy who hugged his notebook, wore the same uniform for a week. After classes, I carried loads on the streets. Some laughed when they saw me. But I knew one thing: this was temporary. Yes, it hurt now, but tomorrow it would bear fruit. The hardest day — winter of my first year. On the phone, my mother said: — We couldn’t send money. I asked for credit at the store today… Tears welled up in my eyes. But I told myself: “You are not one to be defeated. Those who are patient, win.”
CHAPTER III – A Dawn Seen Through Dewdrops Years passed. I worked two jobs — studied by day, translated and taught by night. Every new word I learned, every scholarship I earned — were sprouts of the dreams planted in the harvest’s shadow. One day, my professor called me: — Your writings are great. Write a research paper, we’ll recommend you for a grant. That day, for the first time, I felt a strong belief in my heart: “I can do it.” I won the grant. I got the chance to study abroad. But it didn’t change who I was — I was raised by the sandy roads of the village, my mother’s sweaty forehead, and the pages of books from my childhood.
CHAPTER IV – A Quiet Life Behind Success Now I’ve graduated. I have a job, I’ve published articles. But every time I hold a pen, I remember the first story I wrote — in an old village notebook. Whenever I set a new goal, I hear my mother’s words: “We believe in you.” Success is not about money or fame. It’s about reading on an empty stomach at night, taking action through tears, rising after falling — fulfilling the promise you made to yourself.
CHAPTER V – Traces Etched in the Heart As the years passed, I adapted to a new city, a new life. Now the city’s noise has found its echo in my heart, and my eyes no longer see dreams, but well-planned goals. Yet the village — it always lives within me. One day, I was invited back to my old school — for a meeting titled “Young People Who Have Successfully Completed Their Studies.” When I walked in, I searched for my younger self in the pictures on the classroom wall. Children with dreams, just like I had, sat in the chairs. I saw that familiar spark of passion in their eyes. Standing among eyes that looked like mine once did, I said: — I came from among you. I’ve tilled soil, walked to school in the rain, stayed hungry, cried. But I never gave up on my dreams. Know this — you can do it too. Those who win with patience, not impatience, are truly strong. After the event, I sat in the schoolyard, closed my eyes under the sun’s rays on my forehead. I thought: how many days I cried, dreaming of this sunshine. Now I could look straight at the sun — because my dreams had not only come true, they had opened paths for others. I will continue to write — not for myself anymore, but for the children still clutching their old notebooks. Because behind every success story, there are footprints etched into the heart that lead the way for others.
This story is not merely about a young man’s journey from a village to the city, from struggles to triumphs. It is the inseparable union of patience, determination, hardship, and hope. If one can discover the hidden strength within, even the roughest roads can lead to the stars.
Sadoqat Qahramonovna To’rayeva was born on March 26, 2005, in Gurlan district of the Khorezm region. She graduated from School No. 23 in Gurlan district and studied at the academic lyceum of Urgench State University from 2021 to 2023. Currently, she is a second-year student at the Faculty of Philology and Art of Urgench State University named after Abu Rayhon Beruni.
