The deep-rooted puritanical belief that human suffering is always the fallout of human misdemeanour is misleading, if not entirely wrong. It is merely, one feels, aimed at making coffee table powwow about morality more exciting. Or is simply meant to keep in business those speechifying from the pulpit. The picture once more makes that clear.

What’s his mistake? What wrong has he committed? Isn’t he too young for any kind of misdeed? He is. Then why is he suffering? There isn’t any answer. Because his plight is an act of hatred and hatred unfortunately has never had a reason.

The boy is in the thick of his sleep among the very pieces of stones, which were designed to protect him from trouble.

They did keep the storm away, the thunder away, the lightning away, the rain away, but they were too weak to keep hatred away. The owner of the house didn’t have the means to fence off torment.  

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They did keep…the lightning away, the rain away, but they were too weak to keep hatred away.

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We mustn’t be surprised when the boy wakes up from sleep and up to the realities of his scrappy world and doesn’t smile and slips into perennial grimace. We mustn’t be surprised when he prepares to convert every piece of what used to be his house into ammunition to target his illegitimate tormentor. We mustn’t be surprised if he dubs ethics as a pampered consort of the privileged and the powerful. We mustn’t be surprised when he begins to fancy the bullet more than the book.

And, of course, we mustn’t be surprised when we try to stop him from attacking his attacker and he hits back: “You stood and watched as my house was blown to smithereens for no earthly reason and now you stop me. Get lost.” From deities to devotees, everybody loves truth. And he is speaking the truth.