| Waves of silence roars |
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Is the current generation stepping out off the dwellings in the predessor's shoes or do our hearts melts for our religious theories"love thy neighbour"...Let's ponder the plight of our fellow humans in the Cornelius Dias Waves of Silence roars..
Peter Vaz
Have the trillion waves of silence roars each second eroded away the shores of Vanxim island, or was Vanxim orphaned by its neighboring islands unlike all the continents billions of years ago or has it remained as an orphan till today since its creation ? A puzzle of mysterious quotients unzipped me the result; it indeed was once a huge piece of land that separated and drifted itself from Divar, Charao and other lands in a period of time. Who left its footprints on the shores of Vanxim Island like Robinson Crusoe is never or ever recorded but gone into the drains of silence with its decaying his-story for the generations to dream and ponder.
Affection towards mother is immense in application to individual than towards father, roars voices of all living due to the reason of carrying a creation. Can the off spring survive without its parents? Yes speaks all and few calculations says without its mother. Neither with their parents survived many as orphans, to speak their silence truths and tales of their lives, as destitute or beggars or the millionaires of today. Hearing is simple and overlapping others place is an impossible task and they are the ones who enlightens us of their brave courage what is actual survival with the waves of silence roars,twenty years ago ,voice of my childhood friend Cornelius cracks my sixth sense
Sitting in silence on the rocky edges on the banks of river Mondovi decades ago, the swift flowing of water reflected my own images frame by frame as he threw pebble after pebbles, with the theory of relativity pacing me against time. Time after time recollection of those moments as a companion and later the departures of both in two different time zones are like a self torture reminders. Memories do recollect the silence events, spots and today at unique pace surfing the hot spots around the globe as engineers proceeding to the unknown paths and perilous destination.
The roar of the silencer of Kadamba era chariot took us on mechanized wheels, with unique innovations as innovators. A silence introduction and explanation with a smile taught, the most haunting feeling of what is to being an orphan. As time scanned the midday bells for the cold meal courses, topics on the first day began like kids in the nursery with unique brains but the meal he carried will feed him just a Rusk bread, a red polish of Goan curry sandwiched in between. No one to his aid and no one care for the least and yet the four years was yet to pass with the fury of studies and tests. My strength faded to touch my source for what I saw was the length and breadth of human poverty and our great selfishness towards our own brothers and sisters. The best mackerels roasted and liquor toasted in our houses and yet the unprivileged had no access to even taste nor have the flavors to smell. In silence rolls the waves of tears, which only the person of heart can understand the feeling of children in utter poverty, meters apart our compound boundaries.
I bang my head in tension and the world has no dimensions to support and help the persons in such a condition. Speaking truth is a silence roar of apprehension or even death to the speaker and yet evil enjoys a greatest respect in the community and some revered as living saint in our society altars. Death without fame and wealth is useless and are the rough pages without any remembrances and our conditions later are purely forecasted before our eyes. The words of St Ignatius to St Francis Xavier are correct in all senses and the composer of it, proved to the earthly creations that even dust has a greater value but not the human races. Human created the poverty and racism like a scar of cancer on a living tree spreading on all its branches. The more it is cured the more the tree suffers tears of sorrow in agony. Slavery exists in modern world of today, around us and everyone is subjected as a slave without any reason and yet with pride we hypocrites reject the word to depend.
The builders cannot accept poverty as a cradle in the middle of the gigantic towers although their masterpiece lies without any concrete foundations. A ripple can tear it down whereas the hut can withstand the gravity of the silence roars beneath its surface. Orphans too are the ones that bear testimony of these calamities and we the Pilate washes our hands in fun and merry. Without poverty this world will be much difficult surface, for the rich to survive of their own as servants of self would have been the slave of all. Love thy neighbor taught in every holy book today remains a read only memory that doesnt require compulsion to practice although visible before our eyes. If money weighs or beauty surrounds, flies and bees captures the handicaps ones into limelight whereas for the poverty or for ugly ones not even the dog comes and lick. Such humans among the living civilization survives today without a single companion around them and thats a life my friend of what is being an orphan. No one is close to them or no one at its surroundings needs their friendship except the shadow, which follows them in silence paths.
On earth few cared for Him but today millions bows for namesake, not for redemption but for modeling selves for sainthood in real life dramas. This world would have been burning with peace, happiness and tranquility if His words were inspiration and respected or practiced. Gossiping in perfect sausages and exploring others has opened a chapter of discoveries while witnessing, own neighbor dying in pain or vanishing into the graveyards. Truth moments will capture in seconds rather than years and the scenario of our steps of advance stages will clone us into orphan on the streets in a few decades. Strangers in strange lands of socegados, hosts will be tuned into ghosts and on the roads we will curse self like beasts for the land which our forefathers toiled and sweated .When it will strike you or me, his-story will repeat but our contribution or the mission we were born on this lands will all go in utter waste and during those sad moments of life we will curse the past for the present will all be faded in illusion without any strength and then waves of silence will roar from our mouths. It will be too late then my dear friend, a tragedy then to realize, the value of being an orphan without near nor dear ones to withstand the gravity of earthly designs.
Gone with the flow of underneath currents the teaching of our forefathers to protect the empire they have bestowed upon us from generation to generation. A modern cultured value has heaped the garbages upon their memories, and for museum purposes hangs their patriotism on our walls. Dust has gathered on their seven wonders , termites have torn the roof in a billion bytes and bits and monuments crumbled inch by inch ,day after day in ruins and yet we today the pillars of their dynasty kicks their stones of toil into foil. Has the present technology and human advancement designed us as robust robots or was it not, the world would have been a better place if it was not dressed, rather than remained naked. Are we not following the silence paths to Sodom and Gomorrah like those threesome, escaping through the burning flames of silence roars ?
Scarves blew off as cult of cultured styles and figures entered though the broad gates and corridors of religious palaces. Religious politics, feuds and the dynamic new born congregations practices, altogether changed the altar bases. Was the temple curtain torn apart approximately two thousand ago or are we the altered generation tearing it apart. Can we sew together the present blunders and design a pattern of the past or shall we forge into a reality of perfect modern socegados. Puzzles and the predictions or the mysteries of humanity and the planet will remain unresolved in the mystified analogy for the future generation to get the solutions. A wave of human walks will be shortened by the technology like the signals through the fiber optic cables. Boundaries and borders will no more coexist and the world will be once again turned to the natural reality, it once was in total loneliness with its creator.
Houses divided, booty shared by strangers and the wealth looted by the aides will occur before our senses. Where the road leads and ends comes to a standstill, in accordance with time and with the multiplication of generation gaps is unknown. Todays riches are of someones world tomorrow and, thats what are we worth for the sweat and toil, sacrificing for the ambition. If Alexander the great achieved death in conquering the whole world, than what are we fools to just read the mythology in history. Will it ever model us or convert us for a brief amount of time in the presence of God by arousing and awaking Him by our open stretched arms and claps, then detach to same practices once departed from the holy places
Will those waves of silence erode our islands, and make them orphans in future or we will we sellout the motherland or fatherland for a thirty silver coins are some of the mysteries that will generate the images in the journals of our life time in these waves of silence that will s trike us on the shores of our lives.
The view express in these democratic spaces are of free authors ,readers and speakers.
Peter Vaz
This article first published in www.colaco.net
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