When does cruelty make you feel helpless? Is it when unknown hands push you down a rut or is it when known hands meant to protect you push you against a wall? When it happens from the unknown all you focus upon is the degree of the act. But when it happens from the known, perhaps it is then you drown through the degrees of pain. What hurts more - unknown hands breaking away your objects or the known crashing your life away? Which is tougher - being finished by unknown hands or every moment's tortuous death by the known? Cruelty is harder when known hands you trusted once seek to cease your existence. And it is harder when you never tasted it till protective hands that held your life died an early death. And perhaps that is when you watched helpless at the enormity of cruelty from hands and wrecked heads that dared not had someone been alive. You do reel under the strangulating cruelty less from it, more from the shock of the source. And then you surface up with that indomitable will to live your life. And you know hands that pushed you against a wall wrecked only bonds and not the riches of your mind and heart.
After cruelty's parade, you end up shaken, lost in a no man's land and then like a ray of light in darkness, a strange kindness almost heals raw wounds.
After cruelty a simple gesture of inching a dish across makes you wrap respect and gratitude in a newspaper.
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