Sometimes sorry is not enough and what is…
King Dasharath, heard the guzzling of water, having the ability to shoot his target just by the sound, the King shot an arrow, in the direction that resulted in the death of the water guzzler, who turned out to Shravan, the son of an elderly blind couple, he carried them, they were now left without any one to care for them.
The king was sorry, he accepted their curse, but did that sorry ever make a difference? Not really, it was just a word one word against a thousand actions, with multi-fold of implication, he would have to substitute for the loss,
When we say sorry should mean we take a share of the damage, injury whatever, so it binds us together, makes us trodden and sodden as one another. Sorry is a lot of things, it’s a hole refilled, a debt repaid. Sorry is the wake of misdeed. It’s the crippling ripple of consequences. Sorry is sadness, just knowing is sadness. Sorry is sometimes self-pity. But sorry, really is not about you, it about the other to take or leave.
Sorry when we really mean it, means leaving our self open to embrace, to ridicule, to revenge. Sorry is the question that begs forgiveness, because the metronome of a good heart won’t settle until things are set right and true. Sorry doesn’t take things back, but it pushes things forward. It bridges the gap. Sorry is a sacrament. It’s an offering. A gift.
On a lighter vein when I am hurt and I am looking for an apology that I have not received, I create visuals of murdering the offender, and to my devious mind it occurs, that the best place to hid the body would be in the trunk of a cop car, with a note affixed to the body that reads, ”I’m sorry”