Saturday, June 21, 2014

Honour or Fighting for morsels of stinking flesh (Hazel)

He felt relieved that he was able to speak and speak with honesty. " I see people fighting," he went on, " with their teeth clenched, grinding, and their eyes flaming, their arms tempered with steel, fighting for every little inch of their rights. And they call it the path of self-respect, honour, path of moral duty towards themselves. God, if my mother were here today, she would look at these warriors and smile. And she would tell me that each one of these warriors is fighting for petty morsels of flesh to feed his pride, his greed and his vanity," he looked at the piece of paper in front of him, and turned it over. There was something written on it in his mother's hand. It was dim and smudgy but he peered closely at it. "There will be peace when you are right. You will be the moonshine lad. When there is peace, there will be love. And that will fulfill you and make you happy."

As he read it, he was reminded of the deep calm he had felt under full moon nights. He felt a calm and a cool grace wash him. And he felt light and strangely happy, his despair suddenly lifted off him. He smiled and it occurred to him that he often resembled his mother whenever he smiled a smile like this.
Then his mind, which had been weary till a few moments ago, went back to the thoughts he was struggling with. He thought of the great warriors of who knew their rights and knew how to fight for them. He thought of their fights and squabbles over issues of honor. "Over morsels of flesh in decay and stink," he recoiled at the thought and pulled away
He got up and came out and took the stairs to the roof. The moon shone peacefully and blissfully on, washing the entire landscape. It felt cool. He looked up towards the skies again and heard the silence of moonshine.
He felt his shoulders give a little, gentle jerk.And although his face remained straight, he felt a smile spread within his heart.
"I am glad that I am not a part of that fight. I am glad that I know how to give up easily - without a hurt - rather than fight a battle that is not worth my mother's memory, or a fight which I don't need to fight to answer the call of honour. I am relieved above all that I can distinguish between vanity and honour, between rights and greed."
He felt relieved that he had never confused vanity with honour." ( F

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