We live in unprecedented times’ — how often do we hear this these days? The phrase has been abused, and I risk repeating it at the cost of sounding cliche.
‘Death’, as in Emily Dickinson’s poem, is stopping by, whether or not someone stops for it. He has proved to be an avid traveler and travels quicker than the speed of light. It’s travelling countries, making multiple stopovers in the same locality, same street and even the same house. There’s no rationale for its taste. It shows no favoritism towards age or gender or color of skin or wealth or fame. And yet, it doesn’t appear very objective when it takes more from one and nothing from another.
But that’s not what I want to talk about here — not about the loss of a person but the slow death of the spirit of humanity. With things spiraling out of control and death assuming proportions that one had not fathomed, are we building a fortress around us to safeguard ourselves from the attack by news through television, newspapers and mobiles? Are we turning our back to it or a deaf ear because ‘Ignorance is bliss.’ What you do not know cannot hurt you.
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