It has been
a long time since the last introspection, being busy with the latest hobby,
almost perfecting it, of ignoring the unpleasant and uneasy; giving way to a
subsequent occupational hazard, since the insides are a blend of everything,
difficult to separate the good from the bad, if something has to be ignored, it
has to be all of it. Or nothing. I chose all. Bidding goodbye to the self, I
sought happiness in the bright colours in a dark alley, a faint smell of
flowers in a trash yard. It isn’t difficult once you perfect the art of
ignorance, happiness is a promise, contentment however, is to be debated upon.
Such
practice guarantees a few beautiful lines of a poem, a flowery painting maybe,
or a play with a happy ending, with a common theme of ignorance. And there is
the time to think about all that is good, to offer gratitude, and consider
paying back in some form. A consistent smile on the face is not a battle
anymore, topped up with the common courtesies to bring a smile to any face that
has not been graced with it yet. Ofcourse, one has to be fulfilled in all
respects, the stomach is full, hair tidy, well slept the previous night. And you
are good to go. You become a nice pleasant person. The one who is not affected
by the sadness or the darkness outside. It is a package, being nice.
How is it
different from the larger-than-life-content-with-little great souls? This question
is to be answered by the ones devoid of such luxury. They would say, that today
they were refused food 39 out of the 40 times they asked for it, or that they
do not recognise a good gesture, since it has been centuries since it stopped
existing, that they find the scent of a flower nauseous, or that they cannot
sleep when it is quiet, that they do not respond to a child’s cry as a mother
would because it so often is something they can’t do anything about. They would
say, that their life is so small, that they are so bigger than life itself,
that they find no reason in respecting its very idea.
Or maybe it
is a responsibility to be nice, courteous. Maybe the ones with the luxury are
accountable to maintain some kind of a balance. The justifications would keep coming;
the reasons would keep mingling with them. The reality will always be one with
the ignored. Or not?
