Cry, My Divided

Over the last couple of years, I’ve become accustomed to tweeting over blogging. It could be general laziness to pen long write-ups (which is what I will be doing for a living, actually), or scattered thoughts unable to occupy their space in a well-constructed, thought-out piece that isn’t 140 characters long.

But, it is being on Twitter that has made me more observatory than I ever was. And I have to say, most of what I read is downright cynical with not a shred of hope in it. Hell, it’s even got into my writing. The Indian Twitteratti, as it appears, is a firmly divided lot that may unite for the barest of minimums when a Sachin Tendulkar kisses the India flag on his jersey after notching up yet another record-breaking century, but is firmly entrenched and happy in it’s divisions.

And that, sadly, is evident in thousands of tweets. There is a Right, a Left, an apathetic lot, a happy bunch and some who are just plainly sad and frustrated. The moment a slightly sensitive issue props up in the mainstream media, there will come an avalanche of tweets attempting to rip any genuineness in the issue to shreds. Maybe, this has just become a way of moving on rather easily. And continuing to believe the greatest fallacy of our times – that life is easy.

The problem with divisions is that they only ensure greater determination to the parties that hold forth their point of view, no matter how ridiculous and detrimental to other important causes. While it is absolutely vital and democratic to have a point of view, it is not necessary (keeping basic sensibilities in mind) that the said point of view means something. Even matter of fact-ly, it may mean nothing.

This is probably the most negative side of fundamentalism, which breeds such disregard for what actually may be an issue of concern to many. A firmly entrenched lot will just not believe in any seriousness in the issue, because they’ve molded themselves in that way.

Increased bigotry, increased disgust, increased apathy, increased suffering – increased hatred. This is what one ends up with, and the ones who are actually responsible merely disperse themselves among the noises of the voices. The next time they are screaming about something, you’ve already forgotten what they were culpable for.

And that, is the greatest tragedy of them all.

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