Long before
Mask wearing
Became universal
Our faces were masks
We learn from childhood
To mask our feelings
To say the right thing
To do the right thing
To feel the right thing
But to feel the right thing
Is not so easy
And so the inner turmoil
Bursts out
In a display of violence
Violence of all sorts
Violence at home
Violence on the streets
Violence in relationships
Violence, most spectacularly, in war
All this external violence is
Of course just
The external manifestation of
The inner violence
Done to us
Fed by us
Nurtured by us
Until it bursts out
Into the open
Hundreds of years ago
Bahaudin Naqshband went one morning
With a long pole
To the marketplace at Bokhara
And upturned all the stalls there
Until he was surrounded by
A pile of fruits and vegetables
When asked to explain
He said that
The inner state of most people
Is such that
They would all be behaving as he had done
Everyday
Were it not for the fear of
Social censure
It is imperative to change
He said
The inner state of the people
Through education
Rather than just control
Their behaviour
The external manifestations of their
Inner states
Through norms and morés
Laws and decrees
Having failed to
Heed his warning
And learn from his lesson
We find that today
It is not an aware Bahaudin but
Unaware hooligans
Unaware policemen
Unaware people like us
Who take
A lathi to the marketplace
Who lay waste
The whole world