“What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans and homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty and democracy?”
—Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi
Non-Violence in Peace and War
“Pakistan's Director General of Military Operations (DGMO) called Indian DGMO at 3:35 PM earlier this afternoon. It was agreed between them that both sides would stop all firing and military action on land and in the air and sea with effect from 1700 hours Indian Standard Time. Today, instructions have been given on both sides to give effect to this understanding. The Directors General of Military Operations will talk again on the 12th of May at 1200 hours."
—Vikram Misri, Foreign Secretary, India
"Pakistan and India have agreed to a ceasefire with immediate effect. Pakistan has always strived for peace and security in the region, without compromising on its sovereignty and territorial integrity."
—Ishaq Dar, Foreign Minister & Deputy Prime Minister, Pakistan
What is the fundamental, the essential and psychological cause of war? The feeling in men라이브 바카라 hearts that it is beautiful. And who have created this feeling? Partly, it is true, kings and their “armies with banners”; but, far more, poets with their war-songs and epics, sculptors with their statues—the assembled arts which have taken their orders from kings, their inspiration from battles…the feeling that war is beautiful still lingers in men라이브 바카라 hearts, a feeling founded on world-old savageries—love of power, of torture, of murder, love of big stakes in a big game. This feeling must be destroyed, as it was created, through the imagination. It is work for a poet.
—Harriet Monroe, who founded Poetry: A Magazine of Verse in 1912, wrote this as part of her editorial called ‘The Poetry of War,’ which appeared in the September 1914 issue of the magazine.
In the same issue, POETRY announced “a prize of $100 for the best poem based on the present European situation. While all poems national and patriotic in spirit will be considered, the editors of POETRY believe that a poem in the interest of peace will express the aim of the highest civilization.”
We, like Monroe, believe in a poem that is in the interest of peace. We also continue to believe in the works of poets, although the frontiers of journalism are guarded by the myopic gatekeepers who think poetry is not journalism. In times like this when television channels become warmongers and lose all dignity in speech and conduct, a poem can restore some humanity. That라이브 바카라 the toll a war will take.
It is past 6 pm on May 10, 2025. A ceasefire has just been announced. No more fireworks in the night, I hope.
We were almost there. On the brink of war.
On the morning of May 10, 2025, I was on the phone with my mother.
In the news, there were descriptions of explosions, deaths, blackouts.
“Is this a war already?
“Did you pack an emergency kit?”
My mother said she didn’t need one. A war, if it comes, will spare nobody. They are too old to survive it.
“They should stop this now,” she said. “I was young when the 1971 war happened. I remember getting scared.”
I don’t want to get used to any war.
For the last few nights, we have been watching drones and missiles in the skies. There is this feeling of powerlessness that engulfs me every now and then. There are some who see the word ‘war’ and understand that it means suffering and death, not just physical but also of all moral principles. Both sides have not yet called it a ‘war’, and yet, it is beginning to feel like one. Emergency toolkits, medicines, food, water and torches and candles and cash. These are prescribed for us in times of uncertainty and every evening for the last week, we have stayed awake watching out for more strikes, confirming reports, searching for the truth because that라이브 바카라 another casualty in such times.
How does one find the courage to then say that they stand for peace, that they hope somehow this war never begins because the prelude to it is so frightening already? Cities plunged in darkness, sirens blaring, skies on fire.
I draw courage from the fact that it is necessary. I’d like to pretend I’m not afraid, but I can’t fool myself anymore. I can no longer see the images of loss or read through stories of pain. There is a story in this issue about a little boy who is waiting for his school to open so he can return a rubber ball to his friend. I hope schools reopen now.
Still, I’d like to register my voice as an anti-war voice. I want to do it for that little boy who can return the rubber ball to his friend, for the ones who lost their loved ones in the Pahalgam terror attack on April 22 and the many others who are now ‘collateral damage’ and must be sacrificed so peace can be won. But no wars have ever brought any peace.
A lot has been lost already.
Redemption, retribution, retaliation. When I see the face of the young woman who lost her mother, these words don’t convince me.
We must remain invulnerable in the constant presence of our conscience, which tells us that war is never heroic.
A war that didn’t begin has ended. For now.
Is it a war?
We can say No. For now.
THE WAR WILL END
The war will end
The leaders will shake hands
The old woman will keep waiting for her martyred son
The girl will wait for her beloved husband
And those children will wait for their hero father
I don’t know who sold our homeland
But I saw who paid the price
—Mahmoud Darwish, Palestinian poet
But we paid a price. Even in those many hours when they hadn’t yet called it a war.
A poem alone can hold that grief. The rest is all noise.
Please send us poems that are in the interest of peace for we, like Harriet Monroe, the editor of Poetry, believe that they express the aim of the highest civilisation.
letters@d1ce77.org
This article is part of 바카라라이브 바카라 May 22, 2025 issue, ‘Is This War?’, covering the tense four-day standoff that brought India and Pakistan to the brink of war. It appeared in print as 'We Who Dared To Say No To War'.
