The Unspoken Language of Being Human I see an old man, his steps slow and deliberate along the roadside. A young man, his eyes hollow with hunger, lurks in the shadows. Suddenly, a glint of silver. The old man fumbles, and a coin rolls from his grasp, unnoticed. The young man's hand darts out, quick as a hawk. He has the coin, and he melts back into the dimness. My mind reels. Both actions, the old man's unawareness and the young man's desperation, feel wrong. "Unsane," I'd called them, a betrayal of what a human should be. But then, a quiet voice inside me asks, Why? Why was the old man so unaware? And why was the young man so hungry he felt he had no choice? Maybe, just maybe, understanding their stories is more important than judging them. This, I realize, is the first step in developing awareness – a quality I believe is crucial for us, modern humans. The Monk in My Living Room My own heart yearns for silence. Imagine, a whole day without a single word...
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