Yesterday, I was on my way to the university library when I saw, from a distance, two officers in dark navy blue uniforms standing by the side of the road. Both were staring at the ground. Occasionally, they would lift their heads and look up at something deep inside the thick branches of a cedar tree. The female officer was pointing with her finger at something up above to the male officer, who had his legs spread wider than usual. A kind of posture that male officers intentionally do to show how badass they are. He shook his head. Then both of them went back to staring at the ground in front of their feet.
When I arrived, I said hello. "Excuse me," I said, "what have you found here?" The female officer, whose commanding tone made it clear she was a newbie, looked at me in a way that meant, "Mind your own business. Keep walking. Who are you to ask what we’re doing here?"
She didn’t know that I’m one of those stubborn types of people who aren’t easily scared off by a sideways (intense) glare - what we Hazaras call qabighda - just to go on my way. I did not move, did not want to leave without having a clue what the officers were doing there. I kept staring at them, waiting for an answer.
The female officer pointed with her finger toward the base of a tree and said, "Because of this poor little creature." I saw a lifeless squirrel lying on the grass, its eyes still half open. The female officer continued: "One of the students called us that she found a dead squirrel."
"What are you going to do with it?, I asked.
"If you’ll allow me, I know what to do," I said, thinking my suggestion would relieve the officers from suffering under a scorching sun.
"What?" asked the male officer, with an impatient tone in his voice, who had not yet said a word.
"I’ll toss the dead squirrel into the woods," - I pointed with my finger about five meters away - and continued, "so that maybe a coyote, a crow, or a hungry fox can snack on it and offer a prayer of thanks for us," I responded.
The officer gave me a sideways look, almost on the verge of laughing - whether out of surprise or mockery, I couldn’t tell - and said, "That’s a very good plan, but it’s cruel."
I went to the library. When I came back, almost two hours later, I still saw those officers standing there, over the dead squirrel.
"Nothing happened? I asked.
"We called animal control so they can come and decide what to do," the female officer responded in a kind of weary tone.
By then, it was clear to me that these cops lacked the skills to deal with the dead body of a squirrel.
Then I thought, well, perhaps this is how a society in need of too much security looks. Or in the words of my friend Ron, a society wrapped in cotton wool. My mind didn't stop there. Then, I thought of massive spending on defense, the omnipresent nature of guns, and the integration of gun violence into everyday lives, and the state unleashing brute force on the streets and terrorizing people. Finally, I convinced myself to surmise that this is what a militaristic culture should look like.
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