the diary of an ordinary girl

Who is she?

While sitting at the cold corner with all her coldness of heart, she began to think how far she had come- from the abyss of foolish innocence to barbaric practicality. She thought that the world is designed this way where, most probably, under the guise of necessity everyone plays one’s own card to win the situation. In a world, where people are flippant to justify their own interests, living with courage demands a lot of pain. A place that promises you a lot, if and only if, you shatter your own self, your true self, is worth living for? Whilst one is trading off one’s individuality with shackles of acceptance from the shallow society, albeit with pangs of separation from one’s true self, the world loses originality of the soul. Each time the society compels the best ones to succumb to insufferable pain and the worst to offer to the coming generations. Under the guise of the survival of the fittest,  the mother earth is losing its essence- the empathy  with which human beings are bestowed with. The 21st century throws on millennials a plethora of opportunities amid certain hiccups and that is : losing one’s soul, heart and entire existence for the everlasting shallowness of this eternal fake world. Who are we? What we are supposed to be? Where do we lose our souls before embarking on the rough journey of this life? Do we hear the voice of our conscience in the cacophony of our surroundings? When was the last time we felt the last touch of our existence? Are we able to recognize our true self in the mirror of truth? The truth? Where would we find it now? The bitter reality is , though more draconian than being bitter in taste , that we are no longer living in the era of pure and beautiful façade of truth. Truth has nothing to reveal to ourselves. And whenever, though not today, the complicated threads of truth would begin to unravel, we will never be able to comprehend the empty expressions of our soul fading away fast in the dimension of ruthlessness and barbarism.

The century of globalization and information revolution is producing hollow men having straws in their heads. The man with nothing but coldness of his existence is no more the master of his fate, rather he is the blind slave of the perpetual misery camouflaged with unrestrained materialism.  The demeaning existence of the social animal is the reflection of the spiritual and moral degradation of the social fabric. An era marked with souls that are sold for the lust of the flesh, will soon produce a future where regret will envelope the human beings.  Each time an innocent dies in the lap of bloodbath; being offered by the multinational corporations; each time a tree is being uprooted from the chest of the earth,; each time the sheer disparity will hover over  with the eighty-twenty rule; the world will witness a silent jolt.. .. Silent enough to be inaudible for the timid and sensitive conscience of ours.  Albeit, one day , with all the sheer hypocrisy, it will explode.  The socially introvert and virtually extrovert society will rise from the deep slumber. The question will be asked by the puppets who is behind the scene? Who dares to refuse the social pressure? Who questions the integrity of  all the shallowness this world has offered to the dumb men? The answer will be a roar: us, the few, the best, the silent ones, the ones who dare to be different. Then, that day, the world will be changed. I promise, the girl closes her eyes, rolls her hair and rises. The coldness was still there but for the people not for herself anymore.



thecrookedpacifist

#448 in Short stories
#559 in Others

Story about: rebel, truth, peace

Edited: 08.03.2019

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