Arguing over religion is simply that: arguing. All is true. All is real. All is necessary.
If anything, man needs to disabuse itself of its belief in man. All that you see is time expressing itself. You and everything else are but an expression of time, no more. When you have had all of your experiences, there will be no more, but consciousness will remain.
Don't fear death, it has already happened. The moment you were born somewhere out there in the mist of the future you were also dying.
This is the miracle. It is all around us, if only we have eyes to see it."
- Someone Anonymous
Thank you. My day is made.
After not having blogged in a month of Sundays, I thought it only made sense to pull the plug on these scribbles. I do not know why I am back here, doing what I gave up doing eons ago. Be it because of a random reader who would like to read some more, or an old friend who would like me to write more, or a polite acquaintance who is trying to be just that. For the sake of a heap of memories and thoughts waiting to be materialized into words, or possibly just because I want to/have to/need to. I am considering blogging again, for what it's worth. This is not being easy on me but I am up for it. Hope to see me around a little more often !
My wireless internet network "V_4" refuses to connect to the virtual world. So I pick up the phone and dial my internet service provider to find out what went wrong. An amateur eastern islander guy takes my call. After rummaging his database for a considerable period of time, he finally retrieves my record, makes me perform a string of tests I already did, puts me on hold for about three-quarters-an-hour and he still can't figure out a solution. And so, he makes a miserable attempt at conversation, while trying to reach his supervisor for help.
"So, how is the weather there ma'm?" he asks, with his unmistakable forced accent.
Oscar Wilde is so right when he says, “Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative", I think. And at the same time, a series of memories flash through my inner eye. When I was a kid, we lived for a period of 3 years in a remote village in India, where Dad was working. We used to have power-cuts for 20 hours a day, everyday. Unbelievably, life wasn't as tough as it sounds, although me and a childhood friend never stopped dreaming of a huge fan in the sky with it's controls in our hands. Last year was particularly weird for me, weather-wise ! I faced the worst summertime I could ask for, in the scorching heat, seated in an asbestos-lining-roofed primitive "mess"(mess, it was), little knowing that later the same year, I would be shivering dead in the cold, with temperatures at -22 C as well, clinging on to my winter-wear for dear life.
"Ma'm, are you there?" the guy enquires.
I am jolted back into the present and answer him.
"The weather... Oh yeah. It is just perfect, thank you. The sun is smiling at me, sweeter and brighter than ever, and I couldn't be happier. Now, if you please Monsieur, could we return to our troubleshooting?"
"Oh, very well ma'm. I'll have to put you on hold for a moment."
The disgusting subways, the random intimidating lunatics on the prowl, the icy frosty wind and its howl, the deserted bridges, the precious few parks, the crowd, the traffic, the trash, the prices, the noise, the solitude, the belittling skyscrapers, the stores and the brands, the rockaways and the broadways, the cabs, the avenues, the sodas, the streets, the laundromats, dumpster nights, heaters and barbeque's, , the signals, the billboards, the fries, the pizzas and the stupid wide roads, all those losers who stare and stare, and just don't care, the accents, the attitudes, the sickening indifference across latitudes, earphones - my only company all morning, all those people saying "Bless you" each time I sneeze... to hell with you all.
A Newyorkified life, and I hate it to the core...
I ♥ living to see my next birthday more than ever.