In 1990, just as the Voyager spacecraft was at the very edge of our Solar system, The Scientist Carl Sagan asked for it to be turned around , to click a picture of the earth
Here is the picture, think about this the next time we have a sense of inflated ego
There is noise everywhere, the pedestrian small talk The nothingness I can no longer relate to The buzz of smart phones, the mind numbing pop playing on the radio In the TV in the background, she talks of rape He bites into the Mayonnaise KFC, or MC Donald’s, it could be, I don’t remember And then he goes back to his writing, words like ‘pithy’ and ‘loquacious’ writing about all the wrongs They committed to his brothers 1947, 1984, he spews dates , and I can see them fall from his mouth and gather Into a little puddle on the floor His eyes bleed red, from last night’s JD (3000 Rupees, I think) As he talks about all the ills plaguing the country The TV screen is silent now, nothing but dumb static And I stand, transfixed, as the surreal plays out around me , like from an Alan Moore graphic novel He is still ranting, about how Naxalbari ruined his sister’s life Wearing his Nikes and His Levi’s, he shows me pictures on his Iphone, of the NGO he helps run in Greater Kailash The names, faces keep changing, and there is always a cause , the cause that the middle generations want to fight for , the safe changing of the world, the Facebook sharing of videos which purport to help the poor
I hate them. I hate you who pretend to care, who wants to help ‘THEM’ , when you know that all you want to serve is your own sense of self righteousness.
deviantgene 