Sitting in the balcony of my room, my mind started to wander. It sauntered into the alley of my memory, ears listened to rustling leaves making their sounds while lying in the memory lane and eyes saw everything in flashback again. It was right there, the day I was born, the day my first birthday was celebrated and the day I got lost and found and saw my mother crying for me. Oh! That sinking feeling of knowing you have people who are priceless but you have never known their worth. It was a tough pill for a six-year-old to swallow. But he did that and the gulp felt a bit scary. To being loved by people you know is normal but to realise how much you are valued is tough. It went on, the flashback I mean, the loser tag your teacher called you, the time when the class laughed at you, the moment your crush in class seventh called you ‘totla’ and you cried after recess. It was all there and it was all in front of me, making me think what made it click, what makes it click?
Ever wondered why when you think you were better off dead, better of burning in infernal conflagration, marking an end to your purgatory called life? What made you click, what makes you click and stay on? Ever seen a bird fly and tried reaching out to the sky and flying again and falling off that tree and breaking your something-something after falling on the land? What made you click, what the hell makes it click and makes you try again? No, this is not a lesson in theology, not a class on psychosomatics and not an article on self-belief. I am not trying to waste your time here but want you to stop, take a deep breath and wonder, wonder what has made you live, cherish or hate this awesomeness or purgatory called life. I want you to let your mind wander, go against the Vedas and other holy scriptures and let you mind rip. Rest your body and let your mind take you places. Don’t let it calm down, become sedentary but just let it become peripatetic, let it go on a peregrination, slide on the line of declivity and go down in a deep shitty hole. Confuse it, befuddle it, baffle it but just don’t let it stay calm for a moment. Did you see it then, the thing I am talking about? The restlessness giving rise to calmness. That peaceful, Godlike calmness.
I wonder sometimes how different are the ways suggested by the modern day evangelists (both the religious and non-religious men). Yet they tend to try and lead you to the same motive, that same aim. Some tell you to avoid sex altogether, some say sex is the only way out. Some tell you to let it out (I mean the emotions) and some tell you to avoid them altogether. How opposite these are, how much more they can be? I just can’t stop seeing the universality here, the universality in purpose, the universality in approach. Know the difference between the Allopathy and Homeopathy? Now you see the analogy? Yes? No? One of them suppresses and one encourages it more. Which one cures you better, which one suits you better? I can tell you but I won’t. As Hesson says in Siddhartha, words are not pure, they can’t transfer thoughts clearly and hence can’t lead you. The path is to be found yourself. I know what is it, but then Gautam Buddha could not really tell what it felt like being enlightened. I can’t tell you what makes it click. Go and discover yourself and tell me what makes it click, what has stopped you from diving into the inferno?
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