Long gone is the age of crude tools, beasts of burdens and archaic communication tools. Civilization brought with it technology and developments. Technology would later become the backbone of civilization. Giving birth to everything that makes our world tick today.
But is all well and good with our world however? What are the consequences of abandoning the tradition ship and jumping on the civilization wagon? Could the ordeals of the rich and the poor be integrated with civilization and tradition? Or could tradition represent the genesis of the world and civilization represent the end?
I tried painting a unique picture in form of a prose. I hope you enjoy it.
Civilization and Tradition
The rich thinks he cannot die so he takes life by the scruff of the neck, determined to milk as much riches as he can from the earth he was made from even if it leaves Mother Earth frail and unhealthy,
He forgets Mother Earth would be his final resting place. Oh! How karma awaits him.
He believes he is the king of the world though he isn’t even the king in his own home. His children no longer regard him, they now spend their time with machines created by men driven by the greed they call knowledge.
The rich believe he has the greener pastures, forgetting the beauty of the virgin green vegetation of the jungle, touched only by the different breath of Mother Earth herself which they call the season.
The rich sees the world as his own. Taking and destroying as he pleases. The rich’s greatest enemy is himself and his knowledge. Where-ever the rich sets foot on, he leaves destruction in his wake. He takes artifacts and believes from the poor then turns it into fairytales and myths.
The poor sees the rich and dreams in envious nightmares but he knows death cannot come sooner. He would never begin to understand the greediness of the rich for tearing into what was once his magnificent home. The poor thought he had created a niche for himself here.
He was the king around here, reigning supreme over any territory he chooses. Now he is the king of nothing, relegated from the protector of the earth to the protector of what little is left.
He is no longer the king in his own home, all his children dream to be like the rich and one by one they leave for greener pastures except the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.
Oh! How he misses the good old days when man, animals and his environment would coexist as one. The days when the only music he heard at midnight were the chirping of the crickets, the croaking of the frogs, owl screeches, snakes hissing and the trees gossiping with the wind. These were the music of his jungle. Now he sleeps with no sound as if these animals have gone on a never ending pilgrimage.
The rich thinks he cannot die, the poor thinks death cannot come sooner. This is the story of the struggle between civilization and tradition. Just like the struggle between the rich and the poor.
We love civilization anyways and without technology you won’t be reading this.
This prose is available in my book ‘But Why All This Grammar’. It’s available on Amazon and Okadabooks.
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