So here i am again within a span of 40 minutes trying to pen my interpretation of consciousness. I am not trying to sound profound, it is just my foolish self that says that - my judgment matters to me.
People are truly random where each person has a certain belief - conscious or unconscious - of what he/she holds dear. And because the goal will never NEVER be the same for 2 individuals, the world is a random place. Irony - the sentence I hear right now - "When people move in circles, its a very very mad world"
Coming back to my rubbish; the goals may be infinitesimally similar, but never the same. For the past many years I have held this belief that people are selfish. Even a Mahatma or a Mother Teresa did whatever he/she did to suit one's own motive of selfish happiness. Not saying it is right or wrong - just saying that this to me is the truth.
So let me try and word this - the pursuit of money, fame, pride, ego, power, materials, love, comfort - emotional and physical - , detachment stem from a need to fulfill one's needs.
A baby is the purest kind of human I believe, which is why they always intrigue me. I may be great with babies or I may be pathetic but I am truly in awe of them for they have not been influenced by this world.
It is a proven belief that the one thing that babies love is to be held tight - such that there is perfect protection from outside interference. Also why, the best way to pacify a crying baby is to hold it tight and close to one's body. It is the fullest form of security. And somewhere, that mode of security never changes.
People love to be held. But society does not allow purity. Alas.
'No time to stop and stare.'
Somewhere - or rather everywhere - the peace is lost. Such that it actually takes an effort to go back to one's roots. May be meditation does that. May be seclusion does that. May be renunciation does that. But, Peace is very disturbing as soon as consciousness hits you.
All to what end ?
Now is what?
What are you upto - really?
It is funny how humans have evolved around this society where . . .
it is so difficult to look a person in the eye and have a worthless conversation.
it is so difficult to hold another person's hand without a reason.
it is so difficult to embrace someone you like, be it a man or a woman.
it is so difficult to leave things behind and care not.
it is so difficult to cry and howl when you feel rotten.
I wonder what I might think of this when I am 40 years old.
I hope I have a part of me that looks at society from the outside then too.
A me who can still swing his arms in public as though dancing or flying.
A me who talks to himself blatantly.
A me who, wishes to go away on a lonely trip.
A me who understands love for the simplicity that it is.
A me who is trying to define the line between being a part of society and laughing at it from the outskirts.
A me who longs for a death right after I have ended smiling.