Are we Iron ? Are we plastic ?

 

Many of you might have read Eric Blair also known as George Orwell. It has been said that he was a man of big hates. He hated many things, he hated totalitarianism, communism, etc…

 

I have realized that I do hate things… too many things… so today I will just talk about the things I hate…

 

I hate plastic. I can’t stand it. I abhor it. I loathe it.

I don’t know when I first started hating plastic but it has somehow become personal. I have this biochemical reaction whenever I think about plastic, the sensation I feel is similar to touching something wet while washing dishes or seeing some crawling creeping reptile. It’s disgusting.

I hate the nature of plastic. I hate how easily available it is, why can’t it be scarce? Don’t you hate things that are easily accessible? I hate the fact that it has no shape. I hate that it is easily moldable. I hate that it has no moral stance. It has no character. It can be anything you want it to be hence its nothing. I hate that it's nothing.

It should be something.

I mean look at Iron. It can stand very high pressures. It has a character. It takes a lot of effort to change its shape, its stance.

 Even when it rusts. It seems more natural, more humane but plastic lacks any human qualities. It’s pathetic. There is nothing organic about it. It is unnatural

 

Are we Iron? Are we plastic?

 

Slowly the plastic has replaced Iron, even the furniture is plastic now but nobody respects plastic. I abhor the chair I sit on because it is immoral, it is unnatural, it can be easily discarded. It is cheap. It can break anytime. It is not trustworthy but Iron, iron is trustworthy, you know it won’t break, it won’t deceive and it won’t let you down.

 

There is something about plastic that I abhor its touch. Why is plastic, plastic? Why is it so soulless? Why does it exist? I automatically lose interest in a drink if it’s in a plastic bottle.

Maybe you won’t understand why I hate plastic so much… maybe you do… maybe you feel exactly the way I feel.

 

The world is full of plastic; it’s full of individuals who are plastic. They have no character, no shape, no moral stance, no ideas, no original thoughts, they are brain dead, moldable, easily available, they are not even themselves aware that they were cut off this lump, this lump which is plastic, they try to fit in, instead of standing out, they take any place offered to them, they do what anyone wants them to do, they are unconscious and have no thought, they go through life like plastic bottles, they are shaped reshaped in a factory, handed out, used, discarded, brought back recycled reused an endless process without actually ever realizing what’s happening

Why shouldn’t I hate this lump of plastic, why shouldn’t hate this thing which demands to be called humanity. Yet shows no signs of it.

An organism evolving for billions of years busy in a rat race for what,

 Survival? Happiness? dopamine? Is that it?

Why can’t there be a higher calling, a higher purpose?

I believe there is a higher calling. I believe there is a higher purpose.

There is a thing that calls you out. A thing which you can’t help doing. A thing which drives you and gives you satisfaction no other thing can. It can be anything. But it’s your ultimate purpose, your ultimate calling. It’s what makes you unique and human. It’s what makes you not part of the lump. It’s what makes you not plastic. It’s what gives you character and makes you unique. It makes you formidable and gives you heights of fame. It makes you immortal but what won’t make you immortal is being plastic.

So today I want you to go home and burn all the plastic.

It is possible. That throughout our life we might have acquired a protective coating of plastic, a camouflage to fit in.

 

Today I want you to go and sit in the oven and melt all your plastic parts. Burn it all, let its meltdown, and when it’s all gone your naked soul will appear, a will of iron, a stance of iron, a character of iron. A character that doesn’t bend and is not flexible, a character of Iron, your real true self.

 

Oh you who have an inner life

Beyond this dismal day

With war and evil rumors rife

Go blessedly your way

 

Your refuge hold inviolate

On to yourself be true

And save serene from sordid fate

The real you.          

(The poem is copied)