Tag Archives: Hippocratic-oath

Insincerity is a disease that spreads faster than stinky slime

6 Aug

Recovery from being a verbal abuser is tough. To know that, to gain command over your thoughts out of sheer will power and then, to watch the dam of your patience starting to give way; the cracks in it dribbling every few seconds, polluting the waters in your world, is downright depressing.

But what do you do when teamwork becomes your boss? What about when the Hippocratic oath seems like another consent form everyone seems to have signed blindly (as part of the lousy herd-mentality that came free with their cluster disorder package) just to get their greedy hands on that coveted degree? Working hard and struggling to clean the filth in society is all fine; but how about the times when you’re covering the greasy muck with a blanket of your sincerity, honesty and dizziness-inducing, arduous labor, yet have no scope to get noticed for the same? You may not demand appreciation because you do what you do for your satisfaction, but what if, much to your chagrin, you’re treated with the same disgust and disdain that every duty-shirking, money-hungry, (use explicit swear word, here) cheating, scheming, seeming-quack voluntarily asks for?

I cannot work under a slime-covered carpet, incessantly toiling to make it shine; while everyone walks left, right and center through the holes they’ve dug in it, to escape their dues. I’ll run about with disinfectant all over the place, all on my own if I need to, but when it is clean, pose with that mop in hand, I will- whether you care to look in my direction or not.

They talk of wanting to wipe out corruption in the comfort of their cozy dens, yet fail miserably to realize that they are one of the key ingredients of that same well-oiled machine- who are they kidding? Or maybe, this is part of their cover-up, too and I’ve only just taken time to look through their veil- one can never know for sure, right? I feel bad when my bubble breaks and am not sure I want to grow up, anymore- I’d rather go back to Primary School, where they lied to me in books about fairness, justice and equality, through soul-nourishing stories, overflowing with truth, valor, wit and bravery. In watching these infected mice run like they do- hour after hour, in seeing the fury in me wanting to emulate their deceiving ways in order to trick them, to give them a taste of their own medicine; I hate to see what I allow myself to become, albeit for a few minutes, in the innermost depths of my mind. However, a few hours of well-deserved sleep have snapped me back to my senses.

I may not have the answers to this riddle yet; but I know that I can continue to do my part because one person STILL matters. I might not turn out to be half as rich as them, but God will take care of me- that much, He can do. The tears that start to spill out even as I type that last sentence remind me of how I had begun to look at life so controllingly in the past day or two. I had forgotten the meaning of the line my Mum repeats to me often- “Do your best and leave the rest to God.” That may seem like no solution in reality, but for my heart, today, there ain’t no better cure. Thank goodness for the goodness that prevails despite every test. I’m glad that I have a place to vent in the open, refreshing air to breathe and water to gulp down the lumps that occasionally form in my throat. It is no wonder to me now, that rest is king. Get good sleep, people! 🙂 It makes life a hundred, thousand-fold better; trust me!

Thanks for listening. Au revoir!

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