Saturday, June 11, 2011

Lock for the Mouth

There was a choice. When the I heard another I enthusiastically, innocently assume its presence made a world of difference, to break that moment with truth.

The I raised its head, protesting that another I could presume so much. Compassion asked it to be quiet - the joy in the other's eyes was more important than breaking the I.

But the I bristled. It is falsehood, it said self-righteously.

So? asked Compassion. It's a harmless delusion.

Then I sulked. It upsets the balance, the I said. It was like a personal challenge that the I had to take up.

When the moment of decision came, the I blurted out, unmindful of all counter arguments, unmindful of the fading light in the other's eyes. But the dimming lights made it pause. It was a pyrhhic victory, at best, it realised too late.

Compassion stepped in, but it was too late. If only there had been a lock ready for the mouth.

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