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I turned off the shower and stood, damp and shivering, trying to think of a strategy that would work for both of us. I held out a sponge. To my surprise, the centipede accepted the rescue offer, sitting obediently on his damp raft until I dropped him off close to the dryer, a favourite hideout for my arthropod room-mate. For today, tragedy was averted in Alandi Ashram and all residents were safe.
The love and care extended to the centipede contrasted starkly in my mind with the cruelty and callous disregard Gaddafi was showing towards Libya's protesters. If the very idea of a centipede getting wet was unbearable for me, no wonder I couldn't sleep thinking of children being killed in Libya. It is a sad fact that the whole world would be a better place if we could all extend to our fellow humans around the world the measure of tolerance and care that one little centipede received--the chance to live in peace in his own way, full autonomy over his life--and a helping hand in time of need.