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Revenge is Sweet

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i got the english teachers approval so far, its the best in the class its at a C+ (close to B, yes i am in 2nd set english). heres my story, can i add anymore elsewhere????

please note, beant singh was not in the army who then left the army in disgust, i just added that. nor did indira gandhi live in a crappy area.

Crowds have gathered, they have come from far and wide, all eyes are upon me. I can hear them talking in hush hushed tones. I look around and see thousands of faces. I can see some faces staring at me with venomous hatred. Others look at me with intense pity, some are silently crying whilst others look with respect.

I do not care about anything; I am going to my lord the creator. The guards push me up the stairs, I stumble but I am strong. I pick myself up and hold my head up high. I see the noose dangling in front of me, the executioner is inviting me to put my head through and release me. I am not afraid. The drum beats sound louder and louder faster and faster. As I step towards the tempting noose the drum beats halt and the guardsman asked...

"Any last request?"

"This dog doesn’t deserve one" I hear someone shout, which grabs my ears attention in the midst of a thousand voices.

"You can not deprive him of his last rites,” cries another with a strong arrow piercing voice pulling my ears attention to the other side of the crowd, trying to pin point who said this. There is silence all around…

"I wish for a few moments to meditate" I humbly requested, meditate upon the name of the lord. I feel no remorse, sorrow or regret for what I have done. I look to my right and see the man who helped me kill Indira Gandhi, will he be next? His F

ace is expressionless. I look at him knowingly. What we have done we did together for the Sikh community. We couldn’t let this injustice carry on any longer.

All the sounds are whirring in my head, I feel slightly dazed. Waheguru, Waheguru I chant to myself. I must be strong, because I am strong. Looking back it has all been done for a good cause, it had to be done.

It was the sixth of June 1984. Crowds flocking to Amritsar were expecting bright fireworks, the sound of Religious hymns being chanted and the Golden Temple lit up on a joyous occasion. People meditating. All of a sudden the marching of thousands of soldiers could be heard which made a louder sound than the hymns being sung, it was the Indian army. But what were they doing at the holy shrine armed with tanks? All of a sudden without any warning the army fired at all the innocent people. It was a day of slaughter. The Flash-Bang could be heard continuously around the holy shrine instead of the hymns being sung, for once the hymns were silenced. It was not the Fire-works that would light up the skies of Amritsar, it was the sound of gunfire. It was not the beautiful sound of the Tabla or the Harmonium or the sound of people singing to the hymns that would echo all over the Golden Temple complex. It was the gunfire that replaced the sound of the Tabla, it was the sound of vehicles and soldiers marching that replaced the sound of the Harmonium and it was the sound of innocent pilgrims crying for mercy and crying over their dead ones that replaced the sound of people singing to the religious hymns. The sixth of June would indeed be remembered as a day of terror, a day of fear, a day of tragedy. A day when Indira Gandhi, Prime Minister of India ordered the attack on the Golden Temple. A day when thousands died. A day when the army attempted to destroy the Golden Temple but failed. Word spread like wildfire. The news shocked me. I was dumbstruck, I felt enraged yet filled with intense sorrow. There I was standing there all alone, no-one was there

to comfort me. Tell me the reason why? Something we cannot deny, Justice for the suffering had to be done. Tell me the reason behind this, for this was not meant to be. Who could answer these questions, who could claim responsibility of this Crime? I decided to find out these questions myself.

My name, Beant Singh, my occupation, a Soldier in the Elite Snipers Infantry Regiment who just took a break. All this gossip was flying around. I guess I caught it. Yet, so much being said, could this be true? Another friend and me decided to go along to see if this was true. I arrived there, I expected a Majestic sight. I expected to see the clean marble floors I expected to walk on, A Temple floating like a Lotus in the middle of a Sacred Pool, casting a golden reflection on the pool it stands in. I thought I would see people bowing their heads on the marble floor as they entered this sacred shrine, while others would sit at the edge of the pool, listening to the hymns wafting across the water. All these visions I expected to see, were all dreams. The Golden Temple at the top was black as soot. The beautiful marble floors I expected to walk upon had tracks like as though snails had just slithered through it. The White marble was in fact swathed in dried blood. Though it was where the Tanks took position. All this made me weep like I never weeped before. My friend Satwant Singh and me stood at the Akal Takhat, the highest authority of Sikhs. We stood there and made a vow, that we would both avenge these killings. We came out like new people, more determined to do what we wanted to do.

We quit the army in disgust. From Amritsar, we took the small train to Delhi. Though the Train stank, we were glad we were closer to getting our target, though we were tired from moving place to place to reach our target, we were motivated by the thought that we could shoot her soon. There we saw her House of Residence, it stood out like the Gold stuck in Manure. A poverty-stricken area she lived in yet it was hard to believe

such a beautiful home could be made here. We decided to sign up as Mrs. Gandhi’s new bodyguards. Nothing was said. We went up to office. Asked for Mrs. Gandhi, yet she was not there. The officer stared at me, twiddling his moustache and said in a husky voice "Just sign and you will guard her the next day."

And so the day arrived, it was the ninth of November. Mrs. Gandhi had just finished doing her make-up. She looked a lot different to what she looked on the television. Her big eyes clouded with tears as she looked around. Her white hair on one side seemed to be invading the side with black hair rapidly. It seemed, as she was growing old in front of my eyes. Was this the frail looking women that demanded the attack on Sikhs? Was this “innocent looking old lady” really the women whose name and face struck fear in the hearts of many? Was this really Indira Gandhi, whose name generated anti Gandhi slogans such as “Indira Kuthi Maro Jhuthi” (meaning Indira the dog beat her up with a shoe)? Was this woman who seemed to breakdown in front of me the women which nearly every Sikh worldwide demanded for her death?

"Shall we go now gentlemen?" She said in an Old Grandmothers voice.

We began to escort her, we had prepared for this day for along time. Satwant Singh and me were communicating through expressions. "Mrs. Gandhi?" She looked at Satwant as he pointed his gun at her. Her eyes full of shock and dismay. "Help!" she just about managed to gasp. We pounced on her like two lions taking its prey at a vulnerable time. There was no-one around, I had waited for this moment I grabbed her by the throat and put my hands around her neck and squeezed her throat so hard I could see her face turning blue, her eyes and mouth were opening wider and wider. Then I threw the evil witch against the wall and pulled out my gun and at the same time so did Satwant. And then… BANG! I shot Indira Gandhi. As we fired the shots at Indira Gandhi, she shrieked in agony and fell onto the floor, her Sari was now covered in

blood .The deed was now done. Satwant and myself looked at each other, we had done it, and we both felt so proud. There was not a moment to lose. We began to run as fast as we possibly could. An Ambulance was well on the way. However, we realized someone saw our deed. Word spread like forest fire. Gangs began to run after us. Police ran after us. It was the great escape.

"Find the two Singhs" each poster said, "Find Beant Singh, a red turbaned Sikh with a long beard with brown eyes, find Satwant Singh, Orange turbaned with a small beard. REWARD 1 MILLION RUPEES WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE."

We dodged the crowds but turned ourselves in. And that’s why I am here now.

Now I am standing here, looking at the crowd. Fools, I think to myself. "Do not pity me, what I have done, I have done for Sikh community. If anyone dare try and destroy our precious Sikh shrines, we shall avenge them.”

"Kill him!” shout the Guards. As the guards push me towards the noose I hear

Satwant chanting Hymns. I pray to the Lord as the black bag it put over my head, I don’t ever have to see the evils of this world because now my face has been covered with the black bag, I don’t have to see anymore suffering that Indira Gandhi plagued on the Sikh community. As the guards put the black bag over my head I can feel the darkness momentarily and smell the dust from the bag. How may heads have been put through it? My eyes are closed, I can see a bright light in the distance I begin to meditate. I feel a sense of feeling of well-being overcome me. The deed has been done. I am at last going to meet God, nothing can hurt me now Waheguru Waheguru I chant. I feel something put round my neck but I am in a state of happiness. Drumbeats start banging, the flap beneath me is opened. All of a sudden I can hear a gasp from the crowd in the distance. I hang, as lie there dying I feel lifted in the air and tightness oh such tightness around my neck, Waheguru Waheguru I meditate. I can no longer my breathe. I finally feel my body go limp and whils

t meditating on the lords name my spirit shoots out from the top of my head towards the bright like

I have served my purpose in life. I have sought revenge on the woman who dared attack our holy shrine and removed her evil influence from the world., I can hear people booing me. But I can only hear the sweet melody of the harmonium. My head feels light and my body feels like it is floating towards the sky. I can hear the melody of the harmonium growing louder and louder and see a beautiful white light in the sky. I look down and see Satwant Singh coming to join me; together our souls float towards the white light. We can see angels, coming to take us to meet God. We shall finally meet him at last. As we are floating towards the bright light we see the ghost of Indira Gandhi looking haggard beneath us. We hear her screams but carry on towards the path of bright light. My oh my how revenge is sweet.

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Nice. Well writtin. Maybe you could add a bit about how the Golden temple came to be. You could tell why it was such a big deal.

And Indra cuthia.....

change it to Indra Ghandi is a Bitc*, beat her.

It is ok to say bitc* as a qoute because it has religious and warlike meaning to the cussing. Its not nonsense, its expressing feelings

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ahhahahah :wub: if people come and attack hindu temples thats never okay... there will be riots and those people will go out burning other people worship places... but when indira gandhi comes and attack harminder sahib that action was OKAY... she's counted to be GREAT?? gimme a BREAK can u ... and i repeat again.. this is a FORUM.. go check up in a dictionary if you dont get the meaning.. a forum is made for people to come and discuss things.. if you dont like another person opinions we are READY to listen to yours too but learn to be polite and dont do direct attacks on any of the members in the forum.. (read the rules and guidelines of this board first before posting)

another thing.. note to the ADMINS AND MODS... there are few posts that are going around that are directly insulting other members on the forum.. could you people pls do something about this?

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Okey' date=' I kknow Sikhs hate Indira Gandhi, Nehru and the whole tree whcih needs to be sawed [img']http://www.sikhsangat.com/public/style_emoticons/default/rolleyes.gif[/img]

But I still don't see they reason Hidnus liek them!


Why was the Indian economy EXTREMLY down in the early 90s?

who was the prime minsiter in 80's causing it?

who saved the economy - something to ponder over rolleyes.gif

plus, I tihnk you should get a life, as you obviously don't have anything better to do than to make slurs as shown but u

bhull chukk maaf

Waheguroo Jee Ka Khalsa!

Waheguroo Jee Kee Fateh!!

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hindustan, in all due respect, i saw this post earlier, but had no time to actually say anything on what you wrote. hindustan, your lucky your behind a computer, because when it comes to insulting little veer ji's of mine (like Bhullar), that gets me angry, never mind you insulting me.

now lets stop fighting with each other and concentrate on this post, please.

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