Marks who dreamed of laborers

May 5 came and passed. Perhaps many do not remember that on the same day, a baby was born in a small town of Germany, who had a dream in his eyes, a dream in which the laborer’s hand was not empty, the farmer was not hungry and the woman was not considered merely body, the child was Carl Marx.

Marx is a name that blows the capitalist’s sleep and awakens a ray of hope in the chest of a crushed man, but it is also a Marx whose every page of his life is full of sorrow, sorrow, exile and deprivation. I once wrote that the great dreamers of the world have to pay the value of their dreams with the body and the soul. Marx was one of those dreamers. He did not just write, not even wrote, everything that needs a great heart and constant suffering to write.

Marx’s dreams were very big but life was small and cold. In the streets of London, there was a person whose theory laid the foundation for changing the world, but whose house did not have a lot of trouble, and whose children left the world in front of the eyes of the parents one by one, one by one. Her spouse, who was saddened by Marx’s sorrow. His eyes saw his children dying, but his tongue did not complain. She knew that this was all part of a big dream, the dream that Marx had dreamed of is a where a child did not sleep.

Marx had said, “Philosophy has explained the world in different ways, the real task is to change it.” This phrase was not just a philosophy. A declaration war against a system that makes wealth and man slaves. Marx’s pen was the weapon that shook the foundations of capitalism and gave history a new language, the language of struggle, the language of the question and the language of rebellion. When he writes that “the labor’s hard work creates everything but the laborer is deprived of him.” When he says, “Whether the capital sucks blood day or night”, I remember the children working in the factories who have a sleep in their eyes but the salary can just be few.

Marx did not just talk about the economy, he also talked about human relationships with his stranger. He said that capitalism separates a person from man, connects it with things and his spirit gives his soul to the market. It is a Communist Manifesto Festo or Das Capital is written for every page worker. In every line, there is the cry of the farmer, in every argument the echo of the exploitation of the woman. His writings are not just books, he is a movement, a torch that is still burning today, even though the wind has tried to extinguish it.

Many Marx’s children died. He himself has been suffering from economic hardship all his life. He wrote, but his writings were hidden years later. He wanted to speak but was often deported. Wherever he went, the states guarded it. There was no luxurious speech for this, but history acknowledged his theory. From the Russian revolution to Vietnam Cuba China and the labor movements around the world, its voice echoed everywhere. I do not feel Tamil to say that Marx’s dream is still incomplete today.

Even today, from Pakistan to Palestine, from Bangladesh to Brazil, the laborer is laying down, the farmer is committing suicide, the woman is still working on low wages and is falling in a dual mill. The system that Marx disliked is still established today and its scope is expanding day by day. But I know, dreams don’t die. Dreams travel, generation to generation. Marcus burned the lamp of dreams in our eyes. We are the caravans whose steps do not stop. We are the lamps that are trying to overcome the darkness.

May 5 is a day of renewal of a covenant, not just Marx’s birthday for me. Every year I promise myself that day as long as my pen is ink, as long as I have heat in my breath, I will keep the dream that Marx saw.

I will continue to write the truth that the capitalist fears and the laborer is encouraged. Marx is still alive today. He is calling us, “Let’s turn my dream into a reality. “Mentioning Marx’s dreams is not just to describe the life of a person, but to talk about the ideology that is free from time imprisonment. Which is everywhere where the laborer is sweating, but someone else is eating its fruit. The theory that is beating in the heart of every woman who raises her voice for her wages is circulating in the blood of every farmer who irrigates the land but in return finds a chain of debt.

Today, when we are remembering him on Marx’s birthday, we are not only paying tribute to a philosopher but also salutes the light that has burned the lamp in the darkness of centuries. Marx taught us not to accept the world just, understand it and then be upset to change it. Each of his phrase is a sarcastic. Every idea is a question every line. We cannot even forget that Marx was not alone.

He is a symbol of a movement, but his thinking impressed the poets and artists around the world. In Pakistan, Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Jalb, Hassan Nasir and hundreds of people like him were associated with Marx’s thoughts and their lives were the interpretation of the same dream. In Faiz’s poems, we hear the same voice in the martyrdom of Hassan Nasir in the shout of Jalb, which Marx had raised first.