I am not a fan of wars.
As a 9-year-old I watched a movie titled Eleny, or was it Elenie, and stayed awake all night in fright. Eleny was the name of the main character in that war-movie, a mother of several kids during World War II. The scene that kept playing in my head that night was the one when Eleny, upon refusing to tell something to some soldiers, was tied up sitting down, her bare-feet put up, and the soldiers...they bashed her soles using a big chunky piece of wood --with big chunky nails stuck on it.
I kept playing that scene in my head.
Of wood coming repeatedly to her soles.
Of the sound of nails biting into flesh.
Of her screams.
Of the sound of nails taken out of flesh.
Oh the sound of nails biting into flesh, again.
Of her screams.
Again.
And again.
"I'm scared," I told my mom. "That scene. I'm scared."
"It's just a movie," Mom soothed me. But I knew better. I knew it was just a movie. I knew, the real war was much worse than it. My grandmother told me so. She knew better. She had lived through Japanese occupancy in 1942-1945. She was a beautiful young woman living in so much pain then.
And that frightful night -- it wasn't only frightful because I couldn't erase the scene from my head. It was frightful because it was the first time I knew something else about myself.
It was the first time I realised that I had a thing for violence.
How do I put this?
Violence...arouses me.
That particular scene pumped my blood, sending spasm all over my body. It warmed my lower body. I thought it was because of the fright. And I thought I was gonna pee in my pants out of fright.
I thought my bladder was full and I'd have to go to the toilet to relieve myself.
But it wasn't that. It wasn't at all.
That scene kept playing in my head, and I got warmer each time.
I touched the soles of my feet...imagining what Eleny must have felt being beaten..imagining what the soldiers felt when they took turns bashing her.
And I imagined somebody beating me up.
And I imagined beating somebody up.
And I got warmer.
I am not a fan of wars.
I am so ashamed of the fact that I could not stop staring at the pictures of the Abu Ghraib incident.
Like -- I saw this picture in a magazine of one soldier torturing another, and, God, it was like -- how do I put this?
Violence arouses me.
Please God forgive me.
War movies, war news, now I always try to avoid them like I do a disease.
I don't like seeing people hurting.
Not even in a movie.
Let alone in real life.
I am not a fan of wars.
I am so ashamed of the fact that violence arouses me -- but sadly, that fact remains.
