Lets Be Born Everyday
Captive here, Forever, But our hope will be lost Never
Hope stems from dreams. Dreams are funny, gossamer-like things. They thrive in the darkness of the night when no one except your innermost self is around to hold them up to the harsh light of reality.
But, dreams are essential. In the hard day's night, the hardships, the misery of the day, waft away to a distant planet..far from the pleasant, empowering, sometimes absurd- dreams. Without them, half the world would have killed itself or had thrown the vengeance on others. Dream is an anodyne. And for a hedonist like me, without dreams I wouldn't have been myself.
Now, in the past-modern 20th century, it is chic to be cynical and to believe in nothing, except maybe oneself. In this kind of culture, enthusiasm is ridiculed, dreams are blasé and passion is deadly. Those with dreams and the courage to follow them, have what I call passion. Passionate people dare to dream. In life, there are the believers who have strong convictions and try to act them out, even if they seem ridiculous to others.
There are those who hate life and find it mundane and worthless.
I have no quarrel with heretics. They have come to a position, and stick to it.
The agnostics, the middle-of-the-fencers still unsure about their beliefs, whether in politics, or in religion, I can understand, and sympathise with.
But I fail to understand those who profess no beliefs, who do not care about anything beyond their immediate, small circle of family, work, friends. It is better, I submit, to believe in something passionately even if it is wrong, than to believe in nothing at all.
Cynicism is a canker of the soul, that eats away at the largess of spirit in us.
Instead, dreams nourish the soul, and passion feeds the spirit. And mind's ideals are formed.
But, What we all do, is bend those ideals for our lazy suiting, sometimes, to the extent that, that it no longer remains what it stands for. We are so used to 'assume' what is good for us, which might not be good in general, that we stand corrupted in the eye of god.
Those ideals, We say them, we hear them, but seldom do we know them, and bring them in practice. I am being taught by this world, one thing at a time, only because I am keeping my eyes open. Every time that sinks in, it feels, like I had woken up just now, Like I had been blind. Those words had ferried through my ears so many times, but never did it reach the heart. They are reaching there, one by one, slowly, painfully slowly. But thats the beauty of it. One has to keep his eyes and heart open. This journey of soul is very beautiful.
To experience it, Lets be born everyday with the first rays of sun. And watch the sun lighting up my heart. And observe n' see as if its the first time ever, light let my eyes touch it, feel it.
Let my ear taste the sounds of nature as if I am listening to the breath of a sleeping baby.
Let me feel and touch the elements, as if I returned from cold dark void.
Let me smell the perfume of wet soil, and the sunday air in the rose garden...
n' inhale till my heart aches, as if its opening me the gates to a brand new world.
Let me taste the food from my mother's kitchen, so that I shall know what elixir tastes like.
So lets be born again, everyday.
Peace,
Ajinkya
Captive here, Forever, But our hope will be lost Never
Hope stems from dreams. Dreams are funny, gossamer-like things. They thrive in the darkness of the night when no one except your innermost self is around to hold them up to the harsh light of reality.
But, dreams are essential. In the hard day's night, the hardships, the misery of the day, waft away to a distant planet..far from the pleasant, empowering, sometimes absurd- dreams. Without them, half the world would have killed itself or had thrown the vengeance on others. Dream is an anodyne. And for a hedonist like me, without dreams I wouldn't have been myself.
Now, in the past-modern 20th century, it is chic to be cynical and to believe in nothing, except maybe oneself. In this kind of culture, enthusiasm is ridiculed, dreams are blasé and passion is deadly. Those with dreams and the courage to follow them, have what I call passion. Passionate people dare to dream. In life, there are the believers who have strong convictions and try to act them out, even if they seem ridiculous to others.
There are those who hate life and find it mundane and worthless.
I have no quarrel with heretics. They have come to a position, and stick to it.
The agnostics, the middle-of-the-fencers still unsure about their beliefs, whether in politics, or in religion, I can understand, and sympathise with.
But I fail to understand those who profess no beliefs, who do not care about anything beyond their immediate, small circle of family, work, friends. It is better, I submit, to believe in something passionately even if it is wrong, than to believe in nothing at all.
Cynicism is a canker of the soul, that eats away at the largess of spirit in us.
Instead, dreams nourish the soul, and passion feeds the spirit. And mind's ideals are formed.
But, What we all do, is bend those ideals for our lazy suiting, sometimes, to the extent that, that it no longer remains what it stands for. We are so used to 'assume' what is good for us, which might not be good in general, that we stand corrupted in the eye of god.
Those ideals, We say them, we hear them, but seldom do we know them, and bring them in practice. I am being taught by this world, one thing at a time, only because I am keeping my eyes open. Every time that sinks in, it feels, like I had woken up just now, Like I had been blind. Those words had ferried through my ears so many times, but never did it reach the heart. They are reaching there, one by one, slowly, painfully slowly. But thats the beauty of it. One has to keep his eyes and heart open. This journey of soul is very beautiful.
To experience it, Lets be born everyday with the first rays of sun. And watch the sun lighting up my heart. And observe n' see as if its the first time ever, light let my eyes touch it, feel it.
Let my ear taste the sounds of nature as if I am listening to the breath of a sleeping baby.
Let me feel and touch the elements, as if I returned from cold dark void.
Let me smell the perfume of wet soil, and the sunday air in the rose garden...
n' inhale till my heart aches, as if its opening me the gates to a brand new world.
Let me taste the food from my mother's kitchen, so that I shall know what elixir tastes like.
So lets be born again, everyday.
Peace,
Ajinkya
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