It is more than just a book for me. It resembles life.At first,I thought the characters fits me
perfectly, as if it was written just for me. Sage who rather be alone and immerse deep into her own thoughts and Leo who finds it difficult to comprehend the ignorant ideas society held. However, as I dive deeper into the story, I realise, it’s not just about me, it’s about everyone. Not the story but the characters. The good and the bad in every heart, the demons and the angels of every soul. Thanks to Minka's character, the storyteller who don’t
just tell story but paint the words in extreme clarity, the grandmother who was
once a little girl with big dreams, who writes her story of 'upior' and blood, who see the beast and
the beauty of those who love and hurt her.
Josef’s character on the other hand is something really new
to me. It’s not like I’ve never thought of any SS soldier, I have but in that
way. The writer turns into a very different angle of the whole horrific hell of
the Holocaust or any other genocide alike. Perhaps anger and sorrow of the
cruelty of these people have made me blind to the bits of goodness they might still
have hidden behind the thick clouds of cruelty. I forgot that these monsters
were once human before the war and maybe even after the war. I forgot to look deep into their old eyes and see the regrets they held as they tell their part
of history,the same way they might have ignored the tears of toddles and
mothers begging for their life. The hell of memories that still hunt them
every single second of their life. Those sleepless night. Those pointless
regrets. The shame they carry to their dead beds. The fear to continue living
in the judgmental eyes of the world and the fear of facing death and God.
I started asking questions to myself. Would I have done the
same if I am in his shoes? Will I be influence to believe in the lies that were
told by the ones I thought of as God? Will I reject those nonsense, stand up
for the truth and die in honour? Will I say yes like everyone, ignoring my
moral compass? Am I really as pure or as good as I want be, given the same
situation? Will I kill a mother just so that my mother could sleep in peace?
Will I kill a child just to make way for my own child? Would anyone? Sometimes
questions are best left unanswered. Besides, who would want to think of
themselves as monsters?
Perhaps those are just excuses. Self defense maybe. A way
for people like Josef to stay sane. A lie perhaps to constantly remind them
that they are as normal as any other human being. So that they can pretend to
hold their love ones with clean hands. Just so that the guilt might corrode as
time pass by. No matter what they tell themselves, the truth or just another
lie, the damage had been done. The blood and bodies of about 6 millions people
has vanished into the air. Worthless. Stories are all there is left now. Of
torture and of pain. Of death and of blood. Of regrets and of tears. Nothing
more. Just stories and vanishing memories of people and places.
By,
Venesa Devi
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