Quiet suffering

This is the second time I have done it. Heard a sustained level of commotion and raised voices, stepped down, rang the bell and politely enquired if everything was ok. The first time I knew I had thankfully interrupted something serious; the guy's white, apprehensive face told me. This time, I dont think so. Anyway, the commotion stopped. Or more probably, just got more subdued.

The thought of the quiet suffering that so many people go through on a daily basis is so immense and huge and frightening, mainly because it is invisible and immeasurable. Only the suffering that finally ends up as a significant tragedy gets to be seen and measured and tracked. Every day the papers have a new horrific story to report, one which you dont want to read, but cant take your eyes away from. The children thrashed and fractured, the maid abused and beaten, the baby smothered, the woman tortured, the parents blinded, the family burnt...and as one's heart bleeds for these people, I cant help but thinking of the many, many more who havent yet reached this point but exist and survive somewhere in that awful purgatory where there's no relief and no release.

While one does feel intimidated at such times, I do believe that as individuals, not everyone has to go out there waving flages or working in ashrams or slums. If each one could try and redress the injustice or alleviate the suffering of the people immediately within our control, its a start. The flow of decisive action and positive energy is the only way to counter the more dramatic and speedy flow of the negative, especially in a society like ours where every problem is compounded many times over by the sheer scale and lack of infrastructure to manage it. Mum is a great example of that...the amount she has done to truly help and uplift the people around her, is more than I have seen many so-called activists do.

So yes, that's how I try and approach it and let it not absorb too much of my thought and emotion. But once in a while, like now, I imagine I can just hear the anguished cry of a someone's soul in distress. And my stomach contracts in pain. As past and present collide.