You who think the significance of life is in the chink of the keys on your laptop. the bleep of your beeper in the steadfast appreciation of business’s oppositions handshake. You who thinks life agencies clinching contracts or looking the best in your friends party. will you believe the same for 30. 40 old ages? Wheeling for the breath in the decease bed. which thing will give us soothe? . interior decorator apparels stashed off at your dorsum of your cupboard or the quiet satisfaction at the life good and merrily lived? How can you? . non merely you. the full universe have forgotten. what is the most of import? The flesh of my flesh.
The blood of my blood.
Yet you who are still different. you will ne’er bask the quiet pleasances of life that people did one time upon a clip. caught up in the bustle of the mundane. twenty-four hours to twenty-four hours activities. can you no longer experience the torment of orphaned kids. rousing in infirmary beds. and quiet despair of those whose loved 1s were swept off by the tidal waves? A voice within me scream but I remain soundless. the universe is traveling fast excessively fast and it has sucked up deep into its whirlwind. Peoples today describe modernism as being stylish. up to day of the month in short bettering modernism non merely exemplifies the visual aspect or vesture but the term encompasses more. difficult to acknowledge but our virtuousnesss have been spoiled by modernism. it forces us to traverse bounds. interrupt our regulations and worst of all bury our faith. We are tugging. spring and falling. seeking to acquire the best of life but unluckily acquiring the worst. we don’t even cognize where we are heading and towards what? What would this material wealth give us?
Higher criterions of populating beyond necessity or higher position in society? specify us bigger than person or give us impermanent pleasance? is this what we were supposed to be? I look about at the ecstatic faces of our young person. lost in the aglitter universe of American films. Britney lances and liquors weak at school. I feel more than choler or desperation. quiet surrender at the superficial cadavers. we have become. In our pursuit to be at the top we have wholly lost our position. moral and ethical values which are the kernel of what we are. are being laughed at. Is this what we were supposed to be? The wealth and success that pours away so amply has buried our roots and now we stand faceless. with no individuality. edge to the dirt of our ascendants by merely a twine of traditions. this is what modernism is. behind the glamourous faces. the slayer of humanity. the remotion of traditions. are we blind adequate that we still name this advancement? is this what we were supposed to be?