Life, even in all its
simplicity is a song that we take years to absorb fully. Its
predicaments are rarely answered in a straight yes or no nor are its colors
ever visible as mere black and white. Its shades are grayer than they
look on the surface and only the ones it chooses to test have the good or
bad fortune to discover their knowledge. In the context of recalling life's
many small and big struggles I recall how someone once
said somewhere that many things start anew with forgiveness. But
starting life anew is not the real reason why I choose to talk to you
about forgiveness today. Something that we won't be talking
about for the first time. Believe me, there are reasons which make me
come back to the subject. This time the reason is a sincere hope of the truth,
hope of honoring it and respecting it notwithstanding the distractions and
difficulties involved.
When we choose to walk the path of love we expose ourselves to blissful and agonizing possibilities alike. And it isn’t always the other person’s fault that things don’t work out. This sort of leads to a perceptional error of what truly is the implication of any relationship. It might be the same for every stakeholder yet one or only a few of them might consider themselves on a testing tide. This, in my opinion, is many times the foundation of so many misjudgments. And it is often after we misjudge that we make the most terrible choice of not forgiving someone.
What is forgiveness
after all? Underneath the ornamental adages and solemn verses often employed to
explain its meaning, forgiveness is simply the act of being able to understand.
Just ask yourself if you lack this ability or do you possess it. I want you to
ask this question because what really concerns me is the alarmingly large
number of times there is a mistaken discernment of truth under which these
decisions to forgive or not forgive are taken.
Anyone who knows the
colossal power of circumstances knows what it can have you do. It can break
through the most foolproof barrier of logic and rationales. So even if I may,
on a rigid interpretation of things, hold him accountable, I'd still be very
careful as to what punishment I sentence him to. Sometimes our acts may hurt
despite that hurt never being our real intention. We can't afford to forget the
difference. That difference may at times be hazy but it makes all the
difference between what is fair and what is outright injustice.
But my friend’s was a
heart pining in love and loss. Sometimes for a pining heart, drops of joy
are squeezed away and that can trick the mind and turn the most ostensible
truth into a lie. I cannot ignore how the man, my friend’s perceived tormentor
is equally a victim of the circumstances. But that's a truth which is way
beyond my friend's reach. Such truths are never meant to reveal themselves and
we spend our lives thinking that what we have been allowed to see is the whole
thing.
It is therefore
sometimes a common notion that we are alright in not forgiving, thinking that
we have enough reasons to choose how we choose. But are we careful enough to
judge the basis of that choice? To weigh it in the scales of right and wrong?
In simple words, when we decide not to forgive someone do we ask ourselves
whether we know how even a short walk in his shoes feels like. What
if he is blameless? Maybe not to an unconcerned onlooker but to one who is
ready to understand the ‘why’ of things. Truth is, forgiveness is not as much
the issue here as is the tragic perception of what’s faulty in someone’s acts.
To that misconception there is the most unspeakable consequence.
We need to remember
that when we decide to declare someone guilty and unworthy of forgiveness
we must be absolutely certain that he deserves it. We must make sure
that there is nothing to mitigate his culpability. That there is nothing hidden
in the dark which we never saw, which we never could have seen,
things that make an exception. The next time you decide to pull up your
wits and declare that ‘I can’t forgive’ think again. There might just be a
thorn in the shoe that person wears, one that makes him bleed all the same, the
blood whose marks you won’t ever see.
