Concience!

” The human voice can never reach the distance that is covered by the still small voice of conscience “ – Mahatma Ghandi.

No .. I do not quote the Mahatma to spread the righteous nature of our connection. I write it just so my page looks greatly more attractive and meaningful. Many of the other greats that I follow on several other mediums, indulge in some moral and socially responsible writings each day, and I wonder if that is a quality that I should be adopting. But that would be adopting, not what I would term as an original. Though in today’s day and times what really can be termed as original ? Our words and our thoughts are no longer possessing the independence from external influence. Communication systems have become so rapid and intense that it becomes difficult to escape the influences that flood our minds. It is best then to remain within our own, to create what we feel inwardly, in whatever language or thought, and present it.

I present to you therefore, what I feel, needs to be shared. And my conscience is what I believe to be my most honest representation. When we shall know our insides, we shall know what lies beyond. Our insides shall be that beacon of light that shall guide us in the darkness of insecurity.

Many suffer when they rely on this aspect of life. They do what their conscience told them to do and they failed. But did they really ? Remember, the righteous shall always be in minuscule minority ; an elite gathering of a few select, who like most other affluent shall be despised and discredited. The underdog in society, is a winner, when he fights for his justifiable right. Poetic justice, that remotest of possibilities within our own life times and perhaps many life times, comes via the medium of the under privileged. The world loves the lesser coming out fighting against an oppressive well equipped opponent of the elite. Elitism is a restricted verb, even though grammatically it could be described to be in the company of nouns. It carries all the frills of being despised and hated, because it belongs to a small select few. The few, the select, the honorable ones, differ from the others because of their material propensities … Honorable !! Even the great Shakespeare never hid it. Played it out in one of the most remarkable speeches in its history of the written word :

Mark Antony after the assassination of Caesar … ” for Brutus was an honourable man … ”

The strength of the written word was perhaps another of the great inventions of time and universe. Where would have love gone without it. Where too would there be disagreement and anger and misunderstanding, without it. Wars and decisions, and conquests of the building of Empires, the teachings of the past and present. And of course communication… !!

I have confessions to make ! My conscience tells me to.

I am in love !! Love with 4 different people that occupies my heart day in and day out. They gentle yet concerned callings melt each pore of my body. I long for the moment when I can see and spend time with them. To just say nothing, but to listen and observe her affectionate glances that they make. I long to embrace from them in my arms and to feel the warmth of their love and affection. Their presence with me as
I take them out are the ultimate pleasures that our closeness brings to us. Their reciprocation as they mischievously looks up at my face and eyes, touching, feeling at times the flush on my skin, in silent observation, are worthy of the best poetic lyrics that may ever be romanticised in words of any language. Their  telephone conversations are mostly silent but pure. One can hear their presence, but not hear it …

Those silent longing looks that they give in embarrassed and shy disposition, as I enter the room and stand distant from them, are moments that one wishes would last a life time. But they are short lived, for after ages of contemplation, they shall finally address me in that most silk laden voices and say :

Dil ..papa !

I am a blessed human .. and all of you are responsible for it ..

My love as ever always …

DiL