Answers, Don't Matter

Mind is a sky. A clear, open eye takes its enormous dimension into it, imbibing its contents like a cherished perspective.
Kites, resembling to thoughts fly about at the brim of its soaring endlessness, taming its pride with their determination to scale it.

Is holding on to a thought only a matter of commitment? Some thoughts are shrugged off on the grounds of their unconventional and unusual structure. This is just that, our insecurity and inertia to think beyond what society or environment allows us to. Then it is negation of the purpose of the thought, whose wish is just to fly and reach the farthest, trigger new questions and see the unseen.
Through this flow of thoughts you realize something, that it is not the answers that we need all the time. It is more important that we are questioning ourselves, that we are finding new ones all the time without coming to answers of the previous ones.
For the new year, think about how many path breaking questions arose in your mind through the year. It is not important that you found their answers, it is important that you asked yourselves those. That was the purpose of thoughts, to engage you into meaningful questions. Just let them climb the boundaries this new year and see where they take you..
Maybe you'll realize the fun in just flying that kite.

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Why is it Hard to Look in the Eye of a Beggar?

I saw a beggar around the corner of a street some days ago. Rarely has anybody seen them. Years of development have been frozen for those dejected by the community. Even if a curious squinting of the eyes reveal the raw and gloomy human condition to us, on its face, with gaze averted we pretend to be busy in our demanding lives. Ah, the lives of trance. It is too hard to get away from work and family to have a clear perception of anything else. Well, we can't be fully denied of such an excuse because to pretend is a human condition too, far too prevalent than penury.

I wondered what was there so repulsive in the eyes of that beggar. Upon meeting of the eyes a shearing sense of embarrassment and guilt would surface, a guilt so large that consumes the whole of sympathy for that poor creature of God and makes us walk away.

It is nothing but our insensitivity to the obvious truth of life. It is our own frailty. We all are beggars here. It is just the matter of degree which separates us from those impoverished and devastated. It is about losing the cloak of unaccounted status that we wear all the time to save us from embarrassment. It is about opening our eyes and have them meet with those deserted of happiness, pleading for first love.

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The Knots of Resolution

Resolutions are tiny figments of our idealistic imagination that keep us happy in the holidays with the warmth of positivity and grit that they breathe into our real life, a life where only some promises are kept, and the rest forgotten. Resolutions are promises to self, to advance us constantly towards doing anything or averting a bad habit. Each line in the page of resolutions is a small packet of incentive to fuel good work through the next year. Each of these are adorned on the tree of festivity each year along with the others, like tiny pieces of red cloth tied into knots symbolizing memory and stability. If a knot is low on strength, it slips off into the darkness of the tree itself, or blown away by the wind. The promises which are unknowingly abandoned are left loose into the flurry of forgetfulness. This cold, snowy wind never returns anything that is given to it, not even a faint sense of remembrance of what is lost.

There is nothing that we really keep, from the promising tree, apart from a sense of speculation that some promise existed. 

 The same inspirations left loose never come back next year, the tree and the wind may. Faith allows us to preserve our inspirations into a beautiful tree symbolizing life, but real life is too cruel to let all the inspirations tied in the same place, next year.

What we need to remember is that each of these red knots of faith and belief are as necessary to a tree as the forgotten resolutions to us. We cannot really avoid losing them, but we can avoid not believing in what good they could do to us.

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On the Loser's Side

Life is full of impressive people. People who possess tools of sleight, to inveigle you into their charming outlook. They proclaim their power, their win. They hail it. They feel nothing is wrong about it. Neither do you, at the moment, when you join them after being a spectator of their thriving win over the other side, the ones who are eventually abandoned over the thought that they would never cope up and fight back or even win. Those people did not appear impressive enough at the moment when you, decided to be on one of the sides. It was not much of a decision as it was more of a predisposition towards the winning side.

Why is it always the winners, the momentarily more impressive people, that the mob takes side of? Why are the losers left alone by the spectators and even their own people, to just dream of eating the fruits of cornucopia? A Loser has no companion. All he has is a stiffened ego, not willing to amend, only at first.

It takes courage to back a loser, to give him a shoulder and a hand, but it is where you really understand the other side, the winning side. You should take the solitude, the loneliness as an opportunity to talk to yourself. The winner will never get this chance. The mob will surround him, bathe him with deafening adoration that would muffle his inner voice for long. The Loser will hear what the heart has to say, in the loneliness. He will see what it takes. He will change himself and his friend towards good.

From change come wonders.

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