Tradition

It is the glue that binds a society together. It is the one solid link we have with our past, our history. It is the voice that stays our hand when passion overwhelms reason, the voice of our forebearers admonishing the slightest deviation from what is considered acceptable.
It is the walls that enclose us in a coccoon of comfort and familiarity. Warm, cosy and comforting, like a mother's lap. A mother rocking her child, protecting him from the harshness of the outside world.

But look again. Don't you see the towers and turrets? The cold hard gray stone, impenetrable, both from without and within? Walls so tall the only thing let in is the sunlight. A vast expanse of rock and concrete that limits our horizons and binds our potential.

It is tradition that directs an individual into the role he must play. Tradition that forces a person into the box the shape of which he must take. Tradition that dictates the who, when, where and how of love and marriage; enslaving men and women to the roles they were born to play.

True, it stands to protect our society and the human race. But the wall we have built for our defence has become a hindrance to our development. In cowering behind this wall for fear of the bitter lashings of a cruel sea, we idle in ignorance of a glorious sunset beyond the reach of even the most fiersome wave.

So it is now left to you-
Tradition- a talisman for your protection or a chain for your enslavement?