I have a choice... and I choose

In the last few weeks, I have come face to face with a side of humanity that I never thought existed. I have had to encounter a vileness that defies definition. 

I have met people who would literally pimp their daughters to their own family members and then defend the act as one of 'normalcy.' I have seen people who would sell their children and their reputations for the sake of money.

I have watched family members go beyond petty internal squabbles and descend into outright lies to destroy the other. They would probably not remember what the original fight was about - was it about getting the smaller scoop of icecream as a child, I wonder -but that hatred has bubbled over into an vitriolic rage over decades and now threatens the next generation of innocent kids.

And I have been caught in the circle of these lies for being the little kid who, like in the fairy tale, pointed out the fact noone else was willing to admit - "That the emperor has no clothes." 

It has made me question everything I believe in. Whether being good is worth it. Whether all that matters is power and money. Whether there is a price for which everyone can be bought. 

I almost believe there is, now. Almost. 

You see, the fact is that all this coincided with friends of my past reappearing. People from eons ago who never met each other have all resurfaced simultaneously and shown me the image of myself that they still remember me by.

It is fragments of a paper I thought I'd lost : 

- The studious child I was in school who topped classes and had nerdy spectacles.  

- The high school kid who would learn physics the hard way... but also find love.  

- The college boy who wrote books about his friends in a dissection hall and allowed himself to be dressed like a crazy beggar and sing on stage in front of the entire college for a few points in the cultural events. 

- The crush from long ago who was still remembered fondly by the girl.  

- The post graduate whose juniors still remember him as the guy they could turn to at any hour of the day for guidance and who never once shouted at them. 

- The teachers who were genuinely happy to see him again and were proud to show him off to others as 'their student' 

- Retiring doctors who saw fond glimpses of their youth in him and told him never to give up my ideals and beliefs. 

These are all snippets of an unfinished picture. I can choose to fall to the level of the former crowd and become one of them. Or I can remember the memories of true friendship that made me a believer in 'being good'.

I can choose wealth as my love... or love as my wealth.

I choose to see what the final picture is of a portrait that has been in the works for over 3 decades. I have a choice... and I choose to care. 

P.S. : For a blog with the name God in it that has been online for 6 years now, I don't think I've ever typed these words out in a non-sarcastic manner before, but today I do. And I mean every one of these three words.

THANK YOU, GOD.

I was having a crisis. Thanking you for sending me angels.