The misery of child soldiers.

Author:

Kamala 'Sarup'

By Kamala Sarup

This is a real story of a child soldier, I met him in Kathmandu. He was abducted by Maoists and forced to fight on their behalf. It was truly a terrible pain that Nepalese children have endured.

His name was Kishor. He was playing, but he stopped playing all at once and yelled and ran into my house. He seemed afraid and easily understood that whenever something strange would happen.

Although his child's mind had drawn no definite conclusions and yet he was the only reality he had understood.

The situation made him extremely frightened. He asked me, "Kam, did they start a war like they did a couple of days ago?"

As soon as he told me this, I sensed I was dying. I began searching for my 14th-year-old sisters. My sister's not back at school. She may be kidnapped and abused.

And there's a powerful rumor that these days the kidnappers are taking a girl across the border."

My mind is filled with all sorts of apprehensions. I hate war, terror, violence, strife and noise. It warms up beside the fire near the kitchen.

"Kishor! From now on, stop talking about such a conflict and such a war. You're simply talking about your education. I felt sorry for myself.

Last year, one of my oldest friends of the war was murdered and martyred along with his friends. Everyday afterward, I was free. Second, my face was deformed even by minor incidents.

However, there were issues. On the one hand, it was a terrible war, and on the other, I must live for the future. The thought of getting through made me compromise over time.

The feeling after he came out of the city told me about the sad incident and the feeling after.

I heard earlier a war he told that made me hard and harder.

At the same time the excitement outside was suddenly calm, but I was still saddened by the heart that my sister had not yet returned to the house.

What a dreadful day! Everywhere these human settlements were kissed by the naked hot sun. I took long breaths and waited for my sister to arrive.

I was really mad. Time was running short and darkness was everywhere.

I saw that he studied as if he had nothing more to do with this war outside since he concentrated his studies for the test the next day. I sat beside him.

The news broadcast was going on in the radio," The most serious problem of Nepal today is the abduction of the children from the rural areas, and the incidents are increasing everyday.

Catching criminals have been an extremely difficult task. Some criminals have acknowledged that it has become a normal occupation.

I understand about the madness of war. For many years I felt that I was able to be happy.

Even if I want to blow up the cannon pieces and the bombs, I only thought about the flowers.

I did not know that our own hearts were polluted with repulsion, egoism, blood and bombs.

It was true that my uncle's house had been shattered by the impact of a terrible battle and my heart was full of waste.

Although I wanted to talk, there wasn't anyone to listen to. As far as I was concerned, I could not escape from my soul.

The way I write my post-conflict days. I could only tell her about the blood I fought in self-defense with gunpowder. I don't like being horrified.

From the roof of my house, you can see his chamber. From her bedroom where a dark lamp burns, a continuous tone of music is heard like this. I learned that he also sang and I do not know why my mind tries to listen to his songs.

And truly, he sang songs that sounded very sweet, yes. When I was listening to her songs, I wanted to listen to these songs all night long, sitting there.

Last March, she told me about him. As you know Kamala, Kishor has been kidnapped by a rebel (Maoist) group. We must pressure them to set him free or he will be killed. My sister said it to me.

I wanted to run away from the house and reject that situation. I began to weep and say, 'Sister, I don't want him killed. Please, do something about it. My sister's trying to make me feel better, Kam, you're a woman! You don't have anything to worry about. Besides, today, it is very difficult to find a favorable situation. We can find him."

There was a storm blowing in my mind too, and there was a flash in me and the heart was crying out of a terrible situation. What do I need to do and what do I need to do?

I don't like the situation, but it wasn't easy for me to get out of it either. It is because escaping from the house means possessing a heart of stone, I mean the heart that defines the relativity of life. As far as I'm concerned, I felt the madness in my heart.

When people mentioned violence, terrorism, war, they were confused in that direction. I don't have a clue where Kishor is. He still alive, right? Whether he was killed by a war party.

This is certainly a peace which asked me a great question about our human values. The battle I speak of is the sacrifice, co-operation and great dedication necessary to strengthen human affection and love.