A QUESTION OF CONSCIENCE - 1
Few days ago,
while on a chat with a good old friend, he made an observation ‘You at times
come across as very hesitant to hit the nail on its head just to avoid the possibility of someone getting hurt’. I accepted that it could be true. Of course,
in the process, I asked myself where I stand. This followed a video which he had
sent, a disturbing one about the migrants who were on the way back to their
homes far away, forced by the present situation and the general apathy shown
towards their plight, though there were words galore expressing sympathy, deeds
were few. I write this as I sit safe and comfortable within the confines of my
apartment. I can afford to do that because this is my home and I am assured of
the care and attention of dear ones. Yes, I am appalled at what is happening
outside. But how concerned am I? A question of conscience? Well, I had to
accept that as long as nothing happens to my dear and near ones and I am safe, I
can afford to speculate on the travails of the common man on the street, leave
alone the larger problem and the tragedy of the migrant, and sympathize.
I understood what
he meant when he said that I am hesitant to hit the nail on the head. Yes, that’s
true. I have always kept away from being judgmental, but in the process, my
writings have always tended towards exploring an individual’s anxiety rather
than taking a stand on the plight of the individual in what at most times comes
across as an indifferent world. Of course, as an individual, I am bound by my
own limitations of physical strength and more importantly, I find it is the lack
of will on my part to actively involve myself in the only way I know – writing.
How much can I contribute to raising a general awareness? I am not a reformer
nor am I a man of much consequence, but I realize that it requires a will
greater than the individual’s, a collective will, and determination of the powers
that are, in this case, the Government. It’s also true that you require two
hands to clap, but one is enough to slap. That perhaps is the only way I can describe
Democracy and Dictatorship. We abhor Authoritarianism for it treads on the
individual’s freedom. We are still to describe what exactly is an individual’s
freedom. Man is a social animal (well, that’s the adage), but how much of your
freedom are you willing to sacrifice to prove that you are indeed a social
animal. This is another question of conscience. One can never discount
the fact that over the ages there have been (they still are) individuals whose overwhelming
concern was/is for the general good. But a majority of us sit back and let them
do their work, applauding perhaps, and most time finding holes to justify our
own inability to come up with solutions. Introspection, the will to change, and
last but not the least, active participation is what is needed.
I remember
that long time ago I wrote some poems, out of the sheer angst that I felt
arising out of youthful idealism. They have now been confined to the pages of a
collection of a book of poems that I titled ‘Secrets of the Soul’. There are a
few lines which I reproduce here -
The old man sits,
His hands no
longer outstretched,
But held over
his head,
In a vain
attempt,
To shelter
from the rain.
There are no
trees in this city,
No roof for
this old man,
As he waits,
For the rain
to stop,
On the
pavement.
The rain
stops,
The night
grows cold: From Ominous Patterns
There is a
long poem titled ‘The Refugee’ which I have posted earlier in my blog so
I am reproducing only a few lines here–
I toil to
lighten,
That
everlasting hunger.
And the
nights I retire,
Into that
world of dreams,
Myself in the
midst,
Of all those
past scenes.
But dear sir, this I know,
I am waiting
for the day,
The day I
have to go”
With these
words he moved,
Back to the
world of dreams.
He had taken
refuge.
‘Fragments’ which you could even term as a question
of conscience-
“How can I a
living earn?”
I hear the
leper cry,
But I wait
for him to pass me by.
The truth
is he is right,
And I am
aware of his plight.
But I stay
still,
Unmoved,
Silent and
straight as that hill.
I reproduced
the above only to highlight the fact that we all have similar questions of
conscience. We have felt, but moved on, like the last four lines of the
last poem. Recognition of a problem does not solve it. Somewhere along the way
we become too involved with ourselves and let all those feelings bury
themselves deep inside us. It is time for us to dig them out and evaluate where
we stand. Maybe we shall find our way to authenticity.
Coming back
to where we started, the Migrant. The video was disturbing, but not judgmental, for it depicted a reality as it exists, leaving the rest as a ‘Question of
Conscience’. Herds or rather hordes, whichever way you want to classify
them, the first is a large group of animals and the second a large group of
people with their families. So it is correct to say hordes of migrants making
their way back to their homes far away – some bundled in vehicles and others
not so lucky on foot with blisters bursting, desperate to be in their homes (which
they had left for sustenance), to be again with their near and dear ones, not
knowing whether they will reach their destination, but willing to risk even their
lives in trying, rather than die of starvation in an alien land.
When I first
mentioned herd, it was only because the first reaction was a herd of sheep. But
the difference was that they were shepherded and sure of reaching their
destination. But the second and more morbid picture was that of cattle herded
into a truck taking them to the abattoir.
The migrant
problem will exist as long as the problem of poverty, scarcity, and security
exist in the country. I know that this is not a problem that can be solved
overnight in a country as populated and diverse as ours. The problem will exist,
but can we make it more comfortable and welcome to all those people who have
left their homes to be with us, for the reality is we need them as much as they
need us.
