is gandhi crazy?

on one hand it breaks my heart, and anybody's heart, to just hear a little bit of the suffering and misery of palestinians in gaza. on another hand it also breaks my heart, and anybody's heart, to just hear the broad strokes of the suffering and misery jews endured for two thousand years. and i must remind myself that just because i put the jews' suffering after that of the palestinians doesn't mean one is less than the other. i wish i could bring them up in one breath. having said all this, i hear the tendency to compare saying, no, suk wah, you're wrong, you don't know anything, one is suffering more than the other.

it's true. what do i know? nothing.

as i see the feeling of helplessness and powerlessness begin to lurk i remember this story of gandhi. the hindus and muslims were killing each other left and right. it looked utterly unstoppable and violence was escalating exponentially and rapidly. then gandhi said, to the effect, i shall not eat and drink until they stop fighting each other. he moved into a violent neighborhood, and a muslim one, and followed through with his vow. after, i think, about 40 days, he was on the point of dying when, total silence infused the city. the only sound was that of the early morning air. gandhi's aide whispered into his ear, all fighting have stopped. a little later, a man burst into where gandhi was staying. he was widely regarded as the most ferocious and feared muslim warrior. he was in blazing fury as he forcefully threw down a loaf of bread (or chapati?) in front of gandhi and roared, eat, i don't want you to die on my hands. gandhi gazed into the man. silence pursued. the invincible warrior broke into sobs and said, they killed my son, my only son. he cried and cried. when his wailing subsided, gandhi said, i have a solution for you, adopt an orphan, a hindu boy, and raise him as your own in his faith. the man was stunned. to gandhi he said, you are crazy. and he ran out.