They

Sitting in the most beautiful part of the park, they talked incessantly. They were five boys, about 20 years of age. They spoke with loud voices. The sounds that constituted their speech seemed to arise from the gut. As they spoke, they often referred to girls they had been in bed with. Every sentence was full of abusive language – words evoking images of rough sex, forced sex, sex with sisters, mothers, prostitutes. Their talk was coarse, crass and full of aggression.

He wondered why they referred so much to violent sex, even when talking about the most ordinary matters, matters that were unrelated to sexuality. It had become a habit for them, and for their culture. One of them smoked and the smoke could be seen from 20 feet away, floating and desecrating the beauty of the place – something they were utterly unaware of. One of them played music on his phone, but the purpose of the music seemed to be to create noise rather than beauty. It was meant to fill in their silences – between the abuse, the sexual frustration, the boasting and taunting, the music covered the silence.

Beauty – that was perhaps something that they had never thought about. These were human beings, but totally oblivious to any communion with the plants, trees, birds, squirrels around them. Totally estranged from engaging their senses with the green of the trees, the shades of sunlight, the touch of wind on their face. Sex and aggression were all that drove them.

He felt sad for them, he wondered about the moments when they were alone, with no noisy music to distract them and no companions to abuse – what would they be like then? Would the anguish in their eyes become clearer? Would sorrow peep into their hearts, reminding them that they could have been someone else? Would they feel the anxiety of being totally alone in the world?

He did not know. He hoped that all this would happen. It would perhaps make them ask questions about the paths they were walking on. He did know for sure that such roughness as they lived in should never enter one’s life. Beauty, he felt, is the whole purpose of our existence. Ugliness is the negation of our reason to be. Sensitivity brings one to that which is beautiful. Coarseness to that which is ugly.

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~ by tdcatss on July 26, 2015.

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