As I woke up on the first day of this warm month, strange thoughts approached me with a pint of melancholy. There was a desk full of work-to-do. There were things that we were still flowing in mind hoping to get a start. There were other worries too.
Picking the first book I reminisced on Martin Gardner quote,
‘ We all live slapsticks lives, under an inexplicable sentence of death…’
Is there something more truthful than this. Our whole life seems like an illusion. Our efforts to make something and push away the demon of death as far possible seem like negating the reality. Our worries, magnifying the little things and inflating our egos are the manifestations of folly.
Our fears that seem to hold us locked with the shackles with no door to escape — fabricated and foolish thoughts. We create walls and make ourselves prisoner in there.
We tend to admire a lot of things, think and obsess over them. A twelve-years-old who cries over her first crush. A teenager who weeps for not getting accepted in his dream school. A corrupt man trying to sweep money into his house. There is already enough, yet, there is greed. A woman desperately trying to get the attention just to make her existence valid.
Our beliefs suffocate as we become more and more homogenous; running behind the god of success and fame.
Is there only me who grieves facing this kind of dilemma?