Conscience

They weren’t like those other girls. Never did their conversations stoop to the derisively low levels of discussing clothes, boys and other mundane stuff. The self  fashioned intellectuals preferred dwelling over problems that plagued the society, serious issues such as the gradual secession of the present day youth from real philosophical thought (and discourse), and the rapid spread of consumerism in the world. Nevaeh and Kyle were also supremely concerned about the degradation of the environment and dwindling numbers of tigers. They obviously weren’t like the heartless non vegetarians and other cruel people who showed no concern for the well being of stray dogs, migratory birds, etc etc.

“Conscience is the key… maximum people around us have no sense of social responsibility.” Remarked Nevaeh as the two of them sat in the balcony of the apartment that they shared with two other (apparently less conscientious) girls. She sunk her fork into the big bowl of maggi noodles in front of her, twirled it a couple of times and drew out a huge chunk of sticky noodles which she relished.

“What does this day mean? They all just treat it like a holiday; nobody spares a thought for the country.” Kyle expressed her disgust at the indifferent way in which the less conscientious girls had behaved that day. It was after all, the 15th of August- Independence Day. Nevaeh and Kyle had “utilised” the day by indulging in heated conversations about how a transformation could actually be brought about in the country if the young generation took on greater social responsibility. They had watched children from the apartments across the street fly colourful kites throughout the day. With dusk, the zigzagging of kites had stopped. Torn kites, defeated in air-borne battles lay on the streets, or perched on trees and electric poles, while the murderous kite-strings still trailed behind.

As Kyle pulled out another cigarette from her half finished pack, the two friends heard a strange sound- A loud clap, followed by the noise of desperately fluttering wings. Both Nevaeh and Kyle were horror struck by the sight that met their eyes. Right aross the street, a bat (yes, those black ominous looking creatures) had tried to fly past an electric pole, and had accidentally gotten entangled in the loose kite strings dangling from it. It hung from the pole about three metres off the ground, fluttering its wings, trying to wriggle free in silent desperation. As it shook and squirmed maniacally, its helpless body bobbed up and down. The kite-string had bruised its leathery wings, but the creature continued  to bat them frantically. 

“Oh no… Look at that.. poor creature!” Exclaimed Nevaeh.
“Yuck. It’s gross.” Remarked Kyle.

“You see people are so thoughtless… they just fly their pretty kites without a thought about how it can affect these aerial creatues. Bats are an important part of our ecosystem and the destruction caused by such relentless activities for plain pleasure will one day surely take its toll…” Nevaeh said morosely, still watching the poor creature struggling in front of her.

A group of children appeared in the street, they were on their way back home after playing in the park. On spotting the Bat, some of them screamed. The older boys among them watched in amusement as it shook and twisted, its body now rotating rapidly about the string from which it was suspended. One little girl started crying uncontrollably at the sight. Her friends tried to calm her down. As the kids finally turned around a corner, disappearing from sight, Kyle observed, “No one will help the poor creature because it is so ugly and disgusting. Now if it had been a pretty pigeon or a sparrow, someone would definitely try to rescue it. But a Bat is the victim of its ugliness. I am sure nobody will try to rescue it.“

The girls continued expressing their concern while the creature kept up its mute struggle for independence. Eventually, it’s muscles weakened, and losing hope of ever being free again, it stopped flapping its torn wings. It now hung from the pole in absolute silence, awaiting its death.

The girls, tired after their day of intellectual discussions, retired to their respective rooms with a clear conscience. They had done their part by being “concerned”. Thoughts routinely supersede action in the world of intellectuals after all…

The moon was now high up in the sky. The limp body of the bat cast an eerie shadow on the ground below. Otherwise, the night was calm