The Hangman.

Everyone in this world has a different life. I am a hangman. This is my life, I give death.

This is what I get to see everyday. These huge jails, these long silent corridors, these years old prisoners sitting behind the iron bars. Well, who are they and what are their stories? What makes them the prisoners?

But why would they tell it to me for I am a hangman, I give death. Moreover, look at them. Do you see them courageous enough to speak about themselves?

Everyday I observe some of them. I see them sitting at the corners, holding pictures of their loved ones and looking at them, in silence. I used to feel bad for them. But now, its normal for all of us. They are not living. They are lost, have no hope, have no life. Its just the matter of breaths. I see them losing.

Honestly, I think the most difficult job is of an executioner (hangman). I have been here since years but even today when I am being asked to hang a prisoner to death, I lose myself. Even today I look at myself, I see death inside.

I remember when two years back I had to hang a boy to death. I looked at him, twenty’s, brown hair and innocent eyes. He made me question myself. *Am I doing justice? No! How can I do this? He is just a beginner in life.* I have a son of his age. I could see my son in him. I could see the fear of death in his eyes. I remember the guard prisoner took him to me and said him “Now you’ll realize how is it to see death next to you. You could have a beautiful life but you are here, paying for your sins”

I could see myself shivering, for the first time. He was a little boy for me, just like my son. But I could not save him from death because I’m a hangman, I give death. Afterall, he deserved the returns of his deeds. When he was being asked his last wish he said, *Give me death. I deserve death. Allah.*

Even today, I cannot forget him. His eyes, which could be the shine of future. His face which could be the symbol of love. And maybe his mind which could be the language of peace.

I have hanged many prisoners to death but never have I felt this bad for someone because it has always been simple, they deserved death because this is what they must have done to someone in their lives. But I did feel bad for that boy. Not because he was hanged but because he was young. He was bright. How could he indulge into such things?

I’m sure he had an answer to all my questions. I’m sure he suffered alot in his life. He was a prisoner and I, am a hangman, I give death.

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