TOUCH

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A touch becomes right or wrong based on the attitude of the person who is touched. Thus, a loveless caress and unpermitted touch become wrong. Is there any reason to find fault with the hands that caressed and the person who was caressed? What is important is what one feels from that touch. My thought and my views compel me to assess in my own way whatever happens in front of me. I am not able to think how my assessment is affecting the other adversely. There an innocent person becomes a culprit. Because it was my mind that prepared the charge-sheet. It was my mind that conducted the trial and my court proved him guilty. That is how an innocent man is subjected to public trial.

I remember a person who told about his discomfort when he is travelling sitting behind someone, whether the other is a dear one or a close friend. It is true that we are sometimes disturbed by touch or hug. Especially if our heart is not formed to accept a touch or when someone who we know well touches us with too much freedom.

I have not yet understood why some people label the celebrities are arrogant when they evade from any attempt from their fans to hug them. Why should they bear a hug from a person they do not know or have never met before? Being a celebrity does not mean to bear everything.

Another observation is that we are more prone to define touch in relation with sex. We can understand from the comments on social media that even a hug between a mother and son or a father and daughter is not seen transparently by some people. “Can they touch so? Can they kiss so?” This is the pattern of those comments. Because we look at things in this way. Our minds have not grown wide enough to accept things beyond these constrains. Our way of thinking is the real culprit.

How many times I have desired to hug you and wished for your kiss on my forehead whenever we met! But you turned away from me with an apathy seen never before. If only you hugged me as earlier and put your hand on my shoulder, I would be much relieved. But you…

No, I did not say anything. I was afraid to touch you. Because I was worried not knowing how you were going to assess my touch. Every hug opens a possibility of reading between the lines.
How distant are we now! The bridge of touch between us has crumbled. Can I hug you ever? Will you hug me ever?

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