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As túas balas » Gandhi

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GandhiDespois de tanta viaxe remato as interesantes últimas páxinas do libro A non violencia: historia dunha idea perigosa, que repasa os distintos promotores da non violencia ao longo dos tempos, centrado en boa medida no movemento cuáquero estadounidense, pero non só. Pecho o volume, saio do tren e camiño coa maleta de rodas cara á casa. Ao abrir a porta atopo un desastre: na miña ausencia o caseiro aproveitou pra meter uns mobles novos, que se suman ao caos deixado ao marchar de xornais vellos por todas as partes, libros a medio ler, roupa pra lavar e pra secar e pra dobrar, a louza dos últimos días…
Estou canso, bótome no sofá e deixo o sistema operativo en branco. E no recuncho do ollo decátome de que coas présas de marchar tamén esquecín desconectar a trampa dos ratos. Funcionou? Vou ver, e xa cando a levanto decátome polo líquido pegañento que esvara que si, que o pobre ratiño entrou, comeu o chocolate e agardou e agardou e agardou pra que alguén viñese abrir a trampa, desas trampas de coller e soltar.
Xa levo dúas mortes de ratos na conciencia: un suicidio inducido e este homicidio por imprudencia. Prégolles aos xestionadores do karma universal que avalíen os meus atenuantes.