Sssh! Thats Secret

          We always remember people mostly with their appearance. On speaking about a groomed gentleman, eventually brings the image of a well dressed man from our memory, a beggar with a shabby, dirt shirt, but not the vice versa.

I infact was kindled to have these thoughts while reading a novel named "The Seventh Secret" by Irving Wallace. People reading this novel for the first time will surely be questioning themselves regarding the depth of truth involved in this novel. Our conscious questions us a lot “Hey ! You knew that Hitler committed suicide, putting an end to the World war. How could have he lived further?. What about that by-hearted version of 8th Standard History saying Hitler died on April, 1945. Can that be wrong?"

All sane people’s brain will definitely linger on these questions. But there may or maynot been a possibility for him to have escaped, lived and died out of natural causes outsmarting the world.

            We are quiet convinced by history that Hitler is a ruthless dictator; a killing machine sucking many innocent lives. Mere thinking of the devil itself creates hatred in our souls. Imagine putting yourselves in the shoes of thousands and thousands of innocent people killed in the Extermination Camps, who were mass murdered for political reasons, without any fault of theirs. Just because you were born a Jew at a wrong time and at a wrong place, is enough for you to be sentenced to death.

            In spite of all these killings and insane acts, there was an approachable, charismatic soft side of this otherwise eccentric man. An ardent Alsatian lover, Herr Fuhrer owned a German Sheppard named Blondi, gifted to him by Martin Bormann.        

           

This image of Hitler with his dog, promoting the countryside and dog lover at rest, was reproduced with the startling caption (paraphrased) ‘When evil people wanted to hurt him [Hitler] inside, at his most vulnerable, they poisoned his favorite dog. This is how evil fights against a good man’.

            A mediocre painter himself, Herr Fuhrer was inspired by the works of Arnold Bocklin. Hitler owned eleven of his paintings and cited Bocklin as his favorite painter.

He was greatly influenced by architectural designs and most of his paintings depicted the same.

           

He actually moved to Vienna hoping to join the Academy of Arts at Austria, where to his astonishment his application was rejected, not once but thrice, stating that his paintings were not up to the standards required. He took to selling his own paintings to shop owners, mostly Jewish. This utter misery of poverty deeply influenced Hitler. He adopted a harsh, survivalist mentality, which left little room for consideration of kindness and compassion – an attitude that would stay with him until the end. Rightfully Hitler stated in Mein Kampf, "I owe it to that period that I grew hard and am still capable of being hard,”

He wore a good luck charm bearing  a photograph of  Federick the Great. He also had a large wall hanging of Federick the Great in his living room, and carried it everywhere.

On first hearing the news of World War I, Hitler had sunk to his knees and thanked heaven for being alive. A huge, enthusiastic crowd including Hitler gathered in a big public plaza in Munich – the occasion – to celebrate the German proclamation of war, on August 1^st 1914. 

                       

As true patriot to his nation, two days later, Hitler volunteered for the German Army, enlisting in a Bavarian regiment.

"For me, as for every German, there now began the greatest and most unforgettable time of my earthly existence. Compared to the events of this gigantic struggle, everything past receded to shallow nothingness," Hitler said in Mein Kampf.  What he did, he claims to be the patriotic riot of the once hand cuffed Germans, which is his version of the fact.

This life of a simple, poor, struggling artist who sold painted postcards for a living, turned to be a murderer using fear as a political weapon. In his life, we were shown only what was intended for us to see. But there was always an other side to the hill, about which people refused to see or thought never existed, actually grew green pastures and meadows for the birds to rejoice.