I got up exactly at 6am the next morning. I am able to tell the time because I took
a mental note of it as I woke up, as I was in doubt about the happenings of that
previous night -- that it was all some kind of a dream. I decided that it was all a
dream. Only in dreams or rather nightmares we concoct such fantastic stuff.
As I was in that sleep-but-awake state , kind of something opposite to purgatory, I replayed the events of last night or last night's dream.My decision to conclude them as dreams didn't give me happiness at all. I thought of it as a loss of opportunity of an adventure. I wanted to have that kind of adventure to escape from boredom.
Aren't we all escaping from that kind of boredom? isn't every step we take in a day is a step away from boredom? Reading newspapers in the buses.watching wall-posters as we travel, trying to find drama on the streets even if it involves a victim and violence, avoiding boring people, changing TV channels obsessively, playing ghupchup with 5 yr old cousins and wondering where that carefree and interesting life had gone, checking on our phone every minute, sending messages and twittering,eating, smoking that cigarette, eating that gutka, masturbating, and finally loving.....I ask again...aren't we all escaping from that dreadful boredom?
But, was my dread from boredom so powerful that I was ready to face grave consequences in chasing that mystery, especially when that mystery involved my own mother? I wished whatever happened that previous night to be true. I wished that my mother went through some bad stuff. I wished that some drama had happened at the expense of someone's suffering. But, then again, I also felt sad for that suffering? A mixture of emotions. Usually, a big fish eats the small fish, a big problem eats the small problem.
is it possible to be happy and sad about the same incident? is it possible to be happy about the death of loved ones especially when that death solves many of your problems? when the big problem eats away your small problem, don't you be happy during that transition of problems? For example -- a earth quake happening exactly on the day a student is about to write an important exam in which he is sure of failing. I am sure he would regret about the loss of lives later, I am talking about the exact moment he hears the news? Would he be relieved or not?
If he is relieved at that exact moment, don't you think he would regret that happiness for
As I was in that sleep-but-awake state , kind of something opposite to purgatory, I replayed the events of last night or last night's dream.My decision to conclude them as dreams didn't give me happiness at all. I thought of it as a loss of opportunity of an adventure. I wanted to have that kind of adventure to escape from boredom.
Aren't we all escaping from that kind of boredom? isn't every step we take in a day is a step away from boredom? Reading newspapers in the buses.watching wall-posters as we travel, trying to find drama on the streets even if it involves a victim and violence, avoiding boring people, changing TV channels obsessively, playing ghupchup with 5 yr old cousins and wondering where that carefree and interesting life had gone, checking on our phone every minute, sending messages and twittering,eating, smoking that cigarette, eating that gutka, masturbating, and finally loving.....I ask again...aren't we all escaping from that dreadful boredom?
But, was my dread from boredom so powerful that I was ready to face grave consequences in chasing that mystery, especially when that mystery involved my own mother? I wished whatever happened that previous night to be true. I wished that my mother went through some bad stuff. I wished that some drama had happened at the expense of someone's suffering. But, then again, I also felt sad for that suffering? A mixture of emotions. Usually, a big fish eats the small fish, a big problem eats the small problem.
is it possible to be happy and sad about the same incident? is it possible to be happy about the death of loved ones especially when that death solves many of your problems? when the big problem eats away your small problem, don't you be happy during that transition of problems? For example -- a earth quake happening exactly on the day a student is about to write an important exam in which he is sure of failing. I am sure he would regret about the loss of lives later, I am talking about the exact moment he hears the news? Would he be relieved or not?
If he is relieved at that exact moment, don't you think he would regret that happiness for
the rest of the life? Thats exactly the moment where most of the people
ask the question 'Who Am I?" -- the exact moment they question their own morality.
The pain of regret and guilt make you dive in to your own soul by asking you
the same question again and again -- 'Who the fuck am I?"..WHO THE FUCK AM I?
WHO THE FUCK............. AM I?
Was I the same man who loved that woman? If I was the same man, and if I thought that she was my soul-mate, then why I got attracted to some sexy women..imagining my life with her. Am I the same man who decided that money is nothing but at the same-time have this irresistible attraction towards it? Am I same person who hates hypocrisy which exists in my mind? Am I the same mind which hate and love the same novel? Am I the same mind which questions the answer and answer it again and again, and every-time coming to the same conclusion? Why do I get bored of things which I loved at one point? Why do I get bored of a movie after watching it 20 times? What is permanent in this world? Why do I desire for permanence? Am I not aware that I am going to die one day? Why am I looking for the permanent definition of the word permanent?
Am I following some fucked up philosophy? is admiring a philosophy same as following it?
What are the facts here? --- I wanted some adventures at the expense of someone's suffering.From that fact, can I conclude that man at his deepest core is selfish?
That humanity is driven by individual selfish needs? is love a selfish need?
What about my soliloquy about differentiating human needs into evolutionary needs and consciousness needs? If love is a selfish need, then into which category does it belong to? If love is a positive emotion, then why does it torment you? If love is not an overrated emotion, then why did my mother leave me?
What are my needs? What are my wants? How can I define myself? Why shouldn't I restart my life..saying..okay, this is me.This is what I am. This is what I am gonna do. This is what I expect from life. This is what I wanna be.
Why cant I say that?
Why am I soo sure of myself at one time, and feel as a loser another time?
How about all the self-knowledge I attained during the times of happiness?
How come that knowledge is not helping me during my blues?
Was I the same man who loved that woman? If I was the same man, and if I thought that she was my soul-mate, then why I got attracted to some sexy women..imagining my life with her. Am I the same man who decided that money is nothing but at the same-time have this irresistible attraction towards it? Am I same person who hates hypocrisy which exists in my mind? Am I the same mind which hate and love the same novel? Am I the same mind which questions the answer and answer it again and again, and every-time coming to the same conclusion? Why do I get bored of things which I loved at one point? Why do I get bored of a movie after watching it 20 times? What is permanent in this world? Why do I desire for permanence? Am I not aware that I am going to die one day? Why am I looking for the permanent definition of the word permanent?
Am I following some fucked up philosophy? is admiring a philosophy same as following it?
What are the facts here? --- I wanted some adventures at the expense of someone's suffering.From that fact, can I conclude that man at his deepest core is selfish?
That humanity is driven by individual selfish needs? is love a selfish need?
What about my soliloquy about differentiating human needs into evolutionary needs and consciousness needs? If love is a selfish need, then into which category does it belong to? If love is a positive emotion, then why does it torment you? If love is not an overrated emotion, then why did my mother leave me?
What are my needs? What are my wants? How can I define myself? Why shouldn't I restart my life..saying..okay, this is me.This is what I am. This is what I am gonna do. This is what I expect from life. This is what I wanna be.
Why cant I say that?
Why am I soo sure of myself at one time, and feel as a loser another time?
How about all the self-knowledge I attained during the times of happiness?
How come that knowledge is not helping me during my blues?
Why am I not able to stop that train of thought which is going to meet an accident,
and conclude that life is fucked up? so, is this all fate? are we all pre-programmed
machines unable to reprogram the program?
Who am I? who am I? who am I?
When the same questions comes in multiples of three, my anxiety gets tripled, which
slaps me out of slumber, and make me search for reality ...and in this case my mothers diary.
It was right there beside me, having the same contents it had the previous night.
So, None of it was a dream. wait..what if I am dreaming the whole thing..even dreaming that I had mother once, dreaming that I went to America once, even dreaming that I exist. What if I am just a story? A story written by a pervert writer? Can a character written in a story think? What if I am just character a writer is writing about, and thinking and living in it.
"Stop it. Stop .......it", My mind shouted , "Whats the fucking difference?????????"
Thats were my mind stopped its funny business, making me wonder which was better? being an animal or being a man. Do animals know that they exist?? do...
Stop it. Stop it. My mind again shouted to itself.
"What a wonder! You woke up so early?", my dad said as he entered my room.
I must say that he saved me from the never-ending spiral of thoughts.
I nodded.
"You wanna join me for a walk", he asked.
"Yes".
I ran that morning. I ran so hard my lungs started squeaking like a pig.
At least, I exist, Bitch.
continued here...
Who am I? who am I? who am I?
When the same questions comes in multiples of three, my anxiety gets tripled, which
slaps me out of slumber, and make me search for reality ...and in this case my mothers diary.
It was right there beside me, having the same contents it had the previous night.
So, None of it was a dream. wait..what if I am dreaming the whole thing..even dreaming that I had mother once, dreaming that I went to America once, even dreaming that I exist. What if I am just a story? A story written by a pervert writer? Can a character written in a story think? What if I am just character a writer is writing about, and thinking and living in it.
"Stop it. Stop .......it", My mind shouted , "Whats the fucking difference?????????"
Thats were my mind stopped its funny business, making me wonder which was better? being an animal or being a man. Do animals know that they exist?? do...
Stop it. Stop it. My mind again shouted to itself.
"What a wonder! You woke up so early?", my dad said as he entered my room.
I must say that he saved me from the never-ending spiral of thoughts.
I nodded.
"You wanna join me for a walk", he asked.
"Yes".
I ran that morning. I ran so hard my lungs started squeaking like a pig.
At least, I exist, Bitch.
continued here...
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