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Take a walk with me...



Take a walk with me on these dusty lanes and be gracious enough to listen to the perverted music of my heartbeats. Perverted, yes, that’s how it has been described by many people for years and I have learnt to accept that description just because I’ve understood that I don’t belong to these lanes. But have you ever noticed that those who claim that they are evil are usually no worse than you? Has it ever occurred to you that most evils are perpetrated by people who claim to be good?

Look at all those people who carry guns in hands and venom in hearts and persuade us to believe that they plunder and rape and kill for the sake of the greater common good. They have been doing it for centuries. It might have been the bow and the arrow instead of the gun in those good old days. It might have been the burning stakes or the gleaming swords.

This evening when our shadows rise to meet us, you see terror in a handful of dust lying on this very same lane that we walk on. The lane has seen much, endured much, and longed to weep much.

Listen. Listen to the sorrow of the dust. It is trying to tell us something. Is it trying to tell us that the world is a dangerous place not because of the people who are evil but because of the people who don’t do anything about it?

Is there room for hope anymore? From the time of the Buddha who placed one good deed above a thousand hollow words, through the man who died on the cross hoping to redeem humanity from ritualistic creeds, to the Mahatma who was shot dead by the hate-filled fanatic, haven’t we seen enough of hope?

Ah, it’s getting dark and we need to return to the safety of our homes. The lanes are dangerous. Let us keep hoping that light will descend on them some time.

PS. Written for



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Comments

  1. The post reads like a poem... flawless transition from one idea chunk to the next. But the best part is that your words go beyond just being a part of a poem. They speak the truth as it exists today. Loved reading it and enjoyed the expressions...

    Arvind Passey
    http://www.passey.info

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    Replies
    1. Thanks for the appreciation. In fact, Eliot was an inspiration as i wrote this. Fear in a handful of dust is his imagery.

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  2. Beauty of hope is that it never dies. Like a phoenix it rises from the ashes. Buddha is not an individual. Buddha is a state of mind. Each one of us can strive to become a Buddha. Our only asset no one can take it away from us. Well I am speaking of hope amid hopelessness.

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    Replies
    1. Hope springs eternal in the human breast, as the poet put it. Life would be quite unbearable without it.

      If only at least a few of us strove toward Buddhahood!

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