Sharing with you thoughts caught in the morning wind, blowing in from a horizon, blurred and long forgotten, to oblivion. It doesn't matter from whom, because I feel the presence of somebody without a face, with no name. And the faceless and the nameless never mattered...
The morning, whose shine and glory got blown into a thousand moments that shall never pass, by the morbid despair I feel in the wind, tells me that this faceless voice without a name could be somebody from us.. or maybe not.. maybe one who used to be, but isn't any more.
Draw your own conclusion, if at all..
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To
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Utterly Disillusioned... I don't see Hope anywhere ahead. Our collective consciousness as Indians has been plagued, the malady of Corruption having eaten its way deep into our bones, so shamelessly deep that our scrupules, our ideas and beliefs around the Right or the Wrong have become essentially non-existent.
It is the corrupted mind of us, the Indian middle-class, that has conveniently allowed this to happen without any reaction. We have become so used to short-cuts and the short term pleasures for which we have bartered away our self-respect, that we have forgotten how to react. And thus we continue to exist as pathetic empty souls devoid of any substance that one can take pride in. We are non-entities which do not demand answers from within us any more, in times when we find ourselves in confrontation with moments of bitter truth.
So we, existentially bankrupt, just keep on running from our own conscience that we smother to silence every day without any guilt, and that which returns to haunt us again and again. And one can see a writing on the wall becoming clearer by the minute : everything we cheated ourselves of, shall return to haunt us..
--------- XYZ
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Sent from my BlackBerry®
Dr.Anirban Chaudhuri
Consultant Physician (special interest in
Cardiology & Critical Care)
Mumbai, India.
@ drchodri@yahoo.co.in
@ dranirbanchaudhuri@gmail.com
@ philodoc_2@hotmail.com
http://jogyou963.blogspot.com
http://anirbanspeak.blogspot.com
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Everywhere I go I find that a poet has
been there before me..(Sigmund Freud)
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