How adroit he is with his own conscience. There is a nakedness in him, to him – a vulgarity that hides below the professional facade, but which can bare its head every now and then. Guilt, it hits me then, is the absence of vulgarity. Or maybe vulgarity is the absence of guilt.
Saransh's way of seeing Mitesh changes here. Feeling guilty about the state of the world may not work as prescription, but it increases our ability to spot the outright vulgar.
