Words stand testimony to our journey into the world where we are ushered in infancy by soft exhortations from our Moms or Pas. From single syllables to baby babble to co joining them to make senseful sentences to regular use of words as expression of love or dislike, need or demand, joy or sorrow we grow to become the masters under whose command words reside and lay. At our beckoning words come running to serve us with soft delicacies of literary pursuits; as match to our tongue and tenor on stage in public speaking; as casual servers in need of gossip; as intense and deep meaning conveyors in moments of strong urge to make sense; as guardian angels to facilitate healing and solace; as friends to hold and hug when we are hurt and at times as bitter harbingers of hatred and curse, venom and hurt, expression of all malice and anger.
Words are all we have and need to have, it seems, to make all sense that we mean. As the most powerful tool of human expression, they can connect individuals more quickly than any silence ever can. As Mantras and shlokas and strotam chanting, they become means to connect with Him, the ultimate in tune with or without the rituals; as chords and notes they create music sublime and heavenly for the souls that can appreciate; as phrases and sentences big and small they become expressions of literary cravings in poetry or prose; as meaningful repetitions and coined hyperbole, they play to the tunes of public orators and speakers. Words are the most fascinating when they please and bring joy, thrill with their depth and meaningfulness, touch with romance imbued and intensity soaked in them. Words of appreciation and gratitude are always welcome. Prayers in words (understandable or not) always touch us deep down inside. Words as expression of all positive things are generally welcome.
But words like individuals have their dark side too. Their impact is greater than any silence; their ability to convey negative feelings is matchless; they can bring things to point of no return as like arrows from the bow they cannot return, take steps back, delete or wipe themselves as even if they do, the die is cast, the impact they make cannot be reversed, they beat, shut, kill and close the doors no human ever can with any of his/ her gestures. They bruise, and though we may be forgiven, the words are seldom forgotten. But are we the deceiver or the deceived, betrayer or the betrayed?
During this long journey, I have often faced the dilemma whether words are better or silence. Silence is golden,they say, ek chup sou sukh-well said. But words are magical,they weave the wonder, mesmerise, lure. For sure they call for judicious usage, handle with care and concern and to say the least kindness, for their cut is' the most unkindest cut of all'. Friends and peer are more often than not generous and forget and life goes on. It sends shiver down my spine on the very thought of 'what if they were not as generous?' There is a strong tendency in us being loved as precious that we take their kindness for granted, forgiveness for a surety. While I am acutely conscious of the grievous hurts that I might have caused inadvertently in an endeavour to bring a point home, nothing justifies rudeness in words or deeds, tone or tenor, meaning or manner. I only wish and pray I were more just or kind, human and humane, humble and loving than to cause a hurt with a blurt or an utterance deliberate or inadvertent. Would I be forgiven? Am I making sense? Am I able to say what I mean?
