'I Write For The Same Reason That Cows Give Milk!'

Well, I didn't say it. One of my favourite writers, George Bernard Shaw, did. I am just striving hard to entangle myself into the most innate hobbies that I have been cherishing for the longest time...

Reading and writing. Writing just for the sake of it. Writing because what's inside me needs to come out. Probably because I can't hold it any longer. It has to come out…

The other day I was reading about Anti Semitism and the disastrous effect it has had on a section of society for a long time. I had read something similar in a novel during my school days, called 'Loyalties' by famous novelist John Galsworthy. 

The novel had impeccably portrayed the existence of racism, and how innocent people have been at the receiving end of ill treatment for ages. Honestly speaking, this scars me. I can't bear the fact that a poor labourer in our country is being made to work for countless man hours, and in return paid in peanuts. And, what about his dignity? Till date, he is being served food in isolation. Till date, he is overworked and underpaid.

Why don't we notice this? Why are we so ashamed to voice out? Aren't we opinionated? Are we the so called bourgeois intellectuals? The creme de la cremes of the society?

Why are we so ashamed and disgruntled then? Why do we fall prey before firm and obstinate convictions like, this has how society has been functioning all this while. Nothing can be done about it. 

Why are we so inundated by societal norms? Why can't we raise our voices? Why are we mum all the time? 

Doesn't this bother us? How can we normalise this? Doesn't this sting like a thorn within? A thorn that's only aim is to destroy the rational mind? 

I haven't found answers yet and shall be waiting for the same earnestly. The results might be far fetched, however, I couldn't contain myself any longer. I was choking inside. All these thoughts were literally strangling me, it had to come out. 

I have been told that cows give milk, in order to feed and nurture their babies. I write to feed myself probably, and attempt and put a desperate effort to bring out all that's been developing in me, most of them being carcinogenic. Yet, they are mine and shall be forever, with a mere attempt to create ripples.