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Light as a Metaphor

I pick exactly two strands of the sun's rays and tie them into a bow. A present for that old man sitting out on his porch.  I walk up to him and hand over the gift. He attempts to smile but is so grief-stricken that his muscles merely twitch. He pauses for a moment, then says, " What gift? ". I sit down beside him, watching people go by - gadgets in hand - completely cut off from the world. It is a sad sight from where we sit. He begins to recount his days from the past - playing cricket with his neighborhood friends, finding the love of his life, bearing children, and then his wife's eventual death. I listen empathically. He expresses sadness in how no one cares any more; that he sees no purpose to life now. There is a moment of silence before which he exclaims, " I feel the light! ". I leave the old man and walk into the darkness of the night. A youngster - perhaps 20-21? - is about to snort a drug up his nose, but stops midway as he sees me. He rolls u...
Recent posts

The Jigsaw Puzzle of Eternity

My mission is to solve eternity's jigsaw puzzle. Yea, you heard me. It's not easy, and it's certainly not the same kind as the one you're familiar with. It's dynamic; its "flow" is not restricted to the dimensions of space and time.  Every time I think I have the puzzle in place, I realize that the "plane" has changed, and more often than not, I have to start all over. Generally though, I am able to find newer and bigger ways of making arrangements that seem to "fit" the puzzle better. Some call this entropy*, the natural state of affairs of the universe we live in. But why engage in such a quest in the first place? Well, it may be that I have [or am?] a component of consciousness that is inherently driven to fulfill curiosity, and in the process, to expand my dimensions of thought. Akin to the universe expanding. Or maybe I am in love with eternity. In love with eternity??!!?? That sounds bizarre! When I say love, I re...

Random Musings

The following are largely unedited clippings of entries from my diary. Some reflect honest observations, while some provide a sense of philosophical amusement. Some others still, render a rather childish view of the world. But buried within these various lines is an earnest attempt at understanding life, man, and me. Undated: Every relationship in this world can be reduced to that of a mother and child-every expression of love can be escalated to the same effect. Undated: I have a certain respect for non-believers-for one, they have tasted the ecstasy of independence-for another, they are self-sustained. Undated: I know what Nirvana must feel like - I tell you, just surround yourself with children. Undated: A samurai can only be passionate about being passionately in love. Undated: The balance factor-the zen way, in every moment. Undated: The question is not, "Will it happen?" The question is, "what will happen, if it does not?" What of me t...

When Gandhi met Asoka

__________________________________________________ With reference to Asoka: The incidents relating to Asoka's life as a king, are by far and large true to the book, The Legend of King Asoka (A study and Translation of the Asokavadana) by John Strong. The legend was first translated into Chinese by Fa Hien in 300 CE. Gandhi’s ideas found their inspiration in the text, Selected Political Writings, Mahatma Gandhi, by Dennis Dalton. __________________________________________________ Footnotes have been added to the text. Scene: Gandhi and Asoka meet in heaven, and both are looking down upon a military soldier on the battlefield. The soldier appears to be contemplating on whether he should shoot a target victim or not. Gandhi turns towards Asoka, but now that he has turned away from the scene, his face carries with it an expression of intense suffering, as though his soul has been ripped. Gandhi ( his voice trembling and full of emotion ): What do you think he is going to ...

POLITICS, PHILOSOPHY, AND MORALITY: What’s in it for me?

A Case Study [All statements in italics have been revised.] I have always wondered about people’s lack of interest in world politics. Politics I am drawn to believe, offer the most realistic medium to resolve the greater moral issues that concern mankind. As an example, consider the issue of Kashmir. Whom does Kashmir really belong to – India or Pakistan?* The question does not offer an easy answer. Geographically speaking, Kashmir’s location makes it an equally favorable candidate for both countries. Furthermore, both Hindus and Muslims have had an equal share in promoting Kashmiriyat . Early references to Kashmir can be found in the Hindu epic of the Mahabharata, with a gradual shift towards Islam after the advent of Sufism, and more emphatically, when it was under Mughal rule. Thus, as a confluence center for both countries (in terms of location, religion, and historical significance), the Kashmir issue is subject to intense debate. In Pakistan’s favor, for reasons of the ...

THE TALISMAN

********************************************************** The following story has been constructed from real-life instances . ********************************************************** I will give you a talisman. Whenever you are depressed, just look around. You might not notice a poor man, and find your purpose in Swaraj. But you will still find peace. Listen! Please listen to me because we may never cross paths again. Make use of me now! I am living my last moments, as far as you are concerned. Yesterday, I was walking down this very cobbled street when it happened. I noticed two boys. Yes, two boys, who were racing each other up a wall. The elder refused to let the younger one win, but they hugged each other in the end, and then started laughing! So?..Well,do you not see? Hmmm. In my dream, this one guy had confessed his love to me through poetry. That has never happened in real life. Yesterday, I was still swimming in these dejected thoughts (before I saw the two bo...

Painting a new picture

I want to blow myself up into a million pieces. Every shred of skin torn and strewn across. Every loose tissue splattered like grease on the floor. Then I want to collect those pieces and make me again. I want to blow myself up into a million pieces. Every shred of skin torn and strewn across. Every loose tissue splattered like grease on the floor. Then I want to collect those pieces and make me again. But differently this time.