Hypocrisy

How can I in my capacity judge your circumstances when I know nothing of what you are, what you go through, where you come from and what you go back home to?

And even if I knew, can I still judge you?

Can I at least try to understand you?

Indeed I cannot.

You live in a hell of your own.

You yearn for a heaven of your own.

You plead exoneration of sins that only you know you have comitted.

You love a unique pleasure that is yet to be known by others

You lust after a far fetched dream that even you cannot see yet.

It is after all your own world. I am an onlooker, looking through a small window into it with a frown on my forehead and doubts in my mind.

I cannot be more wrong.

But I don't want to know that, neither do I want to admit my vices.

Because after all, I have a hell of my own too.

My heaven is a wondrous place too.

I yearn for what my heart cannot have.

My love is for a dream that I made up, wide awake.

I plead exoneration too, for I am a sinner as big as any.

And I am, in my own justification, a judge too.

Sitting on a high table, looking at you through that window and passing judgements like I am supposed to.

I look at your dreams and find them foolish.

I gauge your pleasures and deem them wrong.

I see what you lust after, I see what sins you run from; they are as different from mine as anything could ever be.

How very wrong for you to be so different!

How righteous I am to be this 'myself'.

I sentence you to jail, I shun you. I judge you.

Not knowing, somewhere out beyond my field of vision there is a 'me', sitting at a high table, looking through a window and passing his 'oh-so-righteous' judgements on me.

I do not want to know what being a pariah feels like.

I don't want to experience my every single breath evaluated.

But do I extend the same favour to you?

I am a hypocrite, in a culture where being a hypocrite is not a sin any more.

Where hypocrisy is the Guru one must bow to

And we all are so deep in this sin, that its not weird any more.

Just regular chitchatting.

Normal.