And so we all were eventually awakened, from our great cosmic dream,
And so we all set out on an adventure
The adventure of life.
One or many?
Where and when, most importantly as Whom?
Significant or trivial, who is to know?
Until we live it out the way we do.
Designed by us, intricately carved by something far more superior. Perhaps for the better- for we are linear beings.
We dwell in our own worlds, forgetting so often where we belong and for what did we leave behind the eternal calm and take on this escapade.
We amuse ourselves by petty actions, we derive joy from transient bonds of love and friendship, we attach ourselves to perishable things. But who am I to call all you hold dear petty? I too am but an insignificant strand in this great grand design. The design shaped not by it's own reality but by our imagination.
We picture it to fancy our whims.
We do this all to keep us occupied, to keep our spirits high. All this while buying time to search out our true reality, the real meaning behind the existence of us and all we know.
But one day, our little adventure will end- the end itself could be spectacular or ordinary. Whatever may it's nature be, we know for certain we'll perish. Perish to return back to the soothing calm again.
Our names would live longer than us, that's the power of fame! But if you believe you have tamed your mortality, you're wrong. For a time will come surely, when the entire universe as we know it shall collapse on itself. And time, that feisty river will dissolve into nothingness. But that's a long way ahead, we'd be all dust by then.
Our own death is however unnervingly near.
Friends and family may grieve for us, acquaintances may express sorrow, but to a stranger it would just be another event. When our life didn't matter to somebody, why would our death upset them?
Such is the nature of attachment, it works in peculiar ways. For isn't the loss of a human life a loss, irrespective of their relationship with us?
We are truly insignificant, so are our actions- though some might prove to be more consequential than others.
In this if we are somehow still powerful enough to influence another life, not by a gesture so great it upset our own, wouldn't that be wonderful?
In a world which few understand, to be able to find something worth the awakening;
in a world riddled with vice and pain, to bring peace and love, even for a moment
Isn't this utterly beautiful?
We might not always be able to add a thread in the great grand cosmic design, but won't it be beautiful regardless! We might not be the chief weaver but we can always be the catalyst for small change. We can always be that shiny little thread which a keen eye might spot and appreciate.
And so we all set out on an adventure
The adventure of life.
One or many?
Where and when, most importantly as Whom?
Significant or trivial, who is to know?
Until we live it out the way we do.
Designed by us, intricately carved by something far more superior. Perhaps for the better- for we are linear beings.
We dwell in our own worlds, forgetting so often where we belong and for what did we leave behind the eternal calm and take on this escapade.
We amuse ourselves by petty actions, we derive joy from transient bonds of love and friendship, we attach ourselves to perishable things. But who am I to call all you hold dear petty? I too am but an insignificant strand in this great grand design. The design shaped not by it's own reality but by our imagination.
We picture it to fancy our whims.
We do this all to keep us occupied, to keep our spirits high. All this while buying time to search out our true reality, the real meaning behind the existence of us and all we know.
But one day, our little adventure will end- the end itself could be spectacular or ordinary. Whatever may it's nature be, we know for certain we'll perish. Perish to return back to the soothing calm again.
Our names would live longer than us, that's the power of fame! But if you believe you have tamed your mortality, you're wrong. For a time will come surely, when the entire universe as we know it shall collapse on itself. And time, that feisty river will dissolve into nothingness. But that's a long way ahead, we'd be all dust by then.
Our own death is however unnervingly near.
Friends and family may grieve for us, acquaintances may express sorrow, but to a stranger it would just be another event. When our life didn't matter to somebody, why would our death upset them?
Such is the nature of attachment, it works in peculiar ways. For isn't the loss of a human life a loss, irrespective of their relationship with us?
We are truly insignificant, so are our actions- though some might prove to be more consequential than others.
In this if we are somehow still powerful enough to influence another life, not by a gesture so great it upset our own, wouldn't that be wonderful?
In a world which few understand, to be able to find something worth the awakening;
in a world riddled with vice and pain, to bring peace and love, even for a moment
Isn't this utterly beautiful?
We might not always be able to add a thread in the great grand cosmic design, but won't it be beautiful regardless! We might not be the chief weaver but we can always be the catalyst for small change. We can always be that shiny little thread which a keen eye might spot and appreciate.
Amazing write-up !
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