The taste of sorrow

They were slowly cutting the skin careful to take out only a small piece, as he looked all around himself everybody stood in anticipation, mouths salivating, they had the fire burning already to cook the rawness out of it. He knows them, some are a part of his family, some he considered as friends, neighbors, his teachers, a few strangers too, and he is sad. He looks sad, although his eyes are not filled with tears but his face belies the immense grief of his soul. Over and above the physical pain it is the overwhelming sadness arising from the knowledge. They are eager to cut him alive and eat his flesh in front of his own eyes, all in the name of a sacrifice. It is a superficial wound a long rectangular strip on his forearm and the blood and pus is fast filling it up. The body hasn't yet given up he notices, it still thinks that it will cover up the broken skin and repair all that has been cut off. But his mind knows the truth. Soon his body won't be able to gather the blood and pus enough to fill up all the wounds that will take place. He knows they intend to skin him completely before they start on the underlying tissue and muscles. How long will it be before his body gives up he wonders. He can smell his burning flesh in a distance, "it is cooked, feed him now" several voices demand in unison. A few hands pinch his jaws to open his mouth. He doesn't resist, he doesn't want to resist anymore, he would have opened his mouth on his own had they just asked him for it. He loves them still, all of them even the strangers, he would willingly go through the sacrifice, but he senses that it doesn't matter to them now. All they want is to hurry up through the rituals. They are a busy lot, respectable men and women, doctors, lawyers, teachers, housewives, students and they have to go back to their work, they don't have much time for this. They shout at him to hurry up, he tries to chew on the charred piece of his flesh that they have forced into his mouth. It tastes like sadness. If you know the taste of grief you'd know because that is how it tastes. Not wishing to taste it anymore he swallows it in one gulp. It is gone but the taste of sadness lingers. They hold him and come down on him with knives; all finesse forgotten; and in a frenzy they cut his skin, his body fights, eyes fill up with endless tears, they have tied his mouth shut but he can hear his own guttural cries coming from within. Rivulets of blood ooze out of the body and he forgets everything else in the excruciating intensity of physical pain.

You were there, do you remember? Try to recollect, all of it is there in your memory. Let me help you. Don't focus on the time, time is nothing, it simply is not, but concentrate on the words.
They proclaimed- "It should be practiced by all men according to the rules of the Holy Writ", "and it is also not opposed to the customs of the world"- and you understood- "For the higher good if any deed has been enjoyed by others before me; there is, therefore, no objection to my resorting to it"; "in doing so, I shall not be violating the ordinances of society."

You were trying to memorize everything as they said it so that you may excel at the practice of it and propagate it further, while he was terrified of these dicta's. His mind wasn't that sharp he was sure of forgetting their rules and customs. It scared him to see how they never tolerated a freak amongst themselves; deep inside he knew although he was same as others but he was also different. Despite of his attempts to pretend to be one of them they had decided to kill him. Of-course it was called a sacrifice and was done with the blessings from the heavens and the God of all the beings. Later the head of the family had offered you a morsel "This is good, very tasty, yum, see", and you had opened your mouth in trust, because you had seen others call it food and praise it. Do you remember the taste of tangy spices with their mouth-watering aroma and then something fibrous, bland; unwilling to prolong contact with it you had instinctively swallowed it whole. Others had appreciated your effort and you had immediately felt happy and desirable. "It's protein and it is good for your growth.", someone had said and you believed it.

Look, I don't want to upset you. I am sure you are thinking that this is not how it happens, it is a fictional story of the degree of cruelty which is against all human laws. May be it is, I only hope you'd stop believing what everyone tells you and look back at the carcasses from which you've devoured. I understand that all humans have the potential for utmost compassion as well as for committing horrifying acts of terror. You have the free will to choose your actions. I am merely soliciting the kindness in you by writing whatever little I could remember of my sorrow; leaving you to fill in the gaps from your own memory.

When they slashed open the abdomen and grabbed the guts, it hurt a lot and I, mercifully, fell unconscious through the rest of it.