We Are All Hypocrites

Standing in front of the mirror, I wonder, if that is really me or something I wanted to be. Somehow, the reflection did not bequeath a true depiction of the soul inside. It is a conflict and war, that mankind has fought for centuries- ‘The war of heart and soul’. A war that few have won; a conflict that few have resolved. It’s an art that few have mastered, the art of taming the heart. Save a few herculean beings, we are all hypocrites.

We tend to be what we are not, we preach what we do not practice and we practice what we do not believe. It’s an enigma that I truly despise; it’s a sin that I want to believe I do not commit. Yet, the reflection portrays a different image. The image of a person infected by the germs of this vicious disease. The image of a dying soul empowered by decadence and crime. The image of a ‘human race’ being engulfed by its own greed and lust for power.

Our characters are molded to the instance, defying our inner beliefs. Even the chameleon is awed by the changing colors. This constant change of wavelength along the spectrum often makes us forget our true self. The reflection I seek in the mirror is a mere mirage. The true self hidden deep inside, buried in the heap of fabrication and pretense.

A voice inside me keeps calling, striving hard to stir my conscious. But the voice is too weak, unable to pierce the tomb it is obscured in. Or perhaps I do not want to hear it, for the reflection says it all. I cherish the pleasures of being a hypocrite.