Lizards and target killers
Up until the numerous innocent murders last week, I used to be afraid of the occasional common household gecko, or chupkali, that I would see on the walls of my home. Immediately, I would call for the housekeeper to come upstairs and remove this creature, either by ushering it outside or by simply killing it.
But I wish not for the lizard to be killed anymore. It does not harm me. In fact, it eliminates the mosquitoes in my environment which might carry dengue fever or malaria.
In a city where living things, be they human or reptilian, so frequently lose their lives, through the violent acts of others alike or unalike, I decided that I did not want to add my name to the list of murderers in the country. If I can make harmony with the common household gecko, a creature so different from myself, all humans should, at least, be able to make peace with other humans, creatures so similar to them.
I welcome the lizard into my home, especially because it might protect me from the life-threatening dengue fever. Likewise, I might save the lizard from a predator or, probabilistic in this country, a bomb explosion. We peacefully engage in a mutually beneficial, symbiotic relationship which many creatures partake in within our ecosystem.
However, a certain kind of creature, the target killer or terrorist, is not the same as other, peace-loving creatures. Their brain chemistry has been altered with millions of strengthened neural connections giving way to hatred, murder and sadism.
The minds of target killers have become desensitised to love, compassion and kindness toward the human race, or perhaps any living creature. Instead, life for the killers has become a race to reach the top to exert control and instill fear over those very people that they are killing.
There is no difference between my previous act of ordering the lizard to be killed and that of the target killer as we both committed murders of innocent lives. But when asking the housekeeper to kill the lizard on my wall, I would turn my head away in shame, rueful for ordering the terroristic act.
At least I acknowledged that I was committing a wrong.
The views expressed by the writer and the reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of The Express Tribune.