When White met Grey
White: After soaking myself in Hindustani music at an open stage near an old monument, I hopped on a bus that evening. It was a full moon day. Looking outside the windows of the air conditioned vehicle, seeing every bus stops and hurried men pass by and feeling the emptiness of each minute, a beautiful silence ensued.
Grey: Isn’t everything that happens with or within us, a silent affair after two centuries?
White: We aren’t insignificant just because we are somehow born out of dust and will remain one after a point?
Grey: But most of us believe we are the most important creatures lord has ever created. Our well-being is foremost, then comes the others. More than any religion, we worship ourselves. And then when our natural demons gets embroiled in this man-made religion, we often make a bitter broth. Worse, when they are served in a dirty vessel. So, what did you see that day?
White: A frail looking child with an old man wrapped in a worn out dhoti. They looked lost in the crowd, their tired eyes screamed desolation. Their connection was affectionate, yet cold. They wanted to go somewhere but they didn’t know where. So, they got into the bus, seemingly unaware of the glaring eyes. Fellow passengers in clean and colourful attires had a look on their faces that read “why would these beggars get into an AC bus?”
Grey: Did they shoo them away?
White: They weren’t that inhuman. A young man stood up to give them a seat. I was there, looking at them from the corner, trying to read their stories through their helpless expression. Before I could finish the page, the old man hastily passed through the exit. He still seemed lost and hungry as he lifted the child and disappeared into the crowd.
Grey: Men are born to suffer in varying degrees. Some of them growl when the food is not tasty enough, while some people fight when the food is snatched away from them. Some of them scroll through millions of shirts to pick their favourite one, while some people need just one to cover their naked body.
White: It gives me pleasure to make people smile, out of joy, not pretense. Give an old beggar an extra penny than usual and he breaks into a smile. It isn’t sharing your hard earned money, it is sharing joy. Isn’t that we were born to give?
Grey: We are. But this world is funny, and we are funnier.
White: Our world revolves around us. Every morning, I see the bustling crowd, all men and women hurrying to do something. They want to keep walking, running, moving, with the sole purpose to clothe their body, feed their stomach, satiate their taste buds, and satisfy their endless desires. But very few do enough to take care of their inner world. They don’t care, because they don’t see it, because it’s not tangible.
Grey: Inner world, this universe that exists within us. It’s another adventure. White, let’s wind up here.