Implode

 Implode

If only the stones could speak: the stones of the walls of the great forts or the palaces and mausoleums or the mosques of the great Mughals. Why look so far? If the four walls of our own homes could speak they would speak the same story.

And what a story would it tell? Its a story with a thickening plot of opposing traits that run through us all: A deep desire to know ourselves, and be known by someone and appreciated, to love and be loved, to create something good and nice and lasting, a longing for artistry, poetry; for benevolence, for love, for a need to trust and be trusted. But there is a spanner in the works too. A deep stain of self-destroying violence, a deeper sense of self-pity and guilt, of grudges and resentments long buried deep, a distrust and insecurity and weakness. 

What did it do to the once-mighty Mughals? Implode. The artistry in stone that they have left behind bear witness to this sorrow. What does this do to the normal, everyday common man on the street, to ourselves, our families and communities? Can it be any different? 

The more one delves deep into human history, the more one feels the need for humanity to be saved from itself, salvaged, redeemed. There is a need for us to be 'deep cleaned' and kept that way -deep cleaned. 

The other alternative is to implode!