September 20, 2022




He wrote.

As of now, he was not really comfortable with this world. He had reached his sixties, and yet the years had passed by. Being metaphysical, he had been happy. And in a way, he still was. But basic, unfaced questions had caught up with him.

He was not comfortable with the world. He was opposed to it in every way. The things that interested him, did not interest people. There was no depth, no proper holistic enquiry even, just a mass of people, from top to bottom, living off their given natures and no proper ground too, and he saw all that.

The world bewildered him, on one level, but on another level, he did grasp the world for what it is.

It was a wish, a desire for the world to be different, and yet he knew the world was NOT like this, yet it was, and it was not right too, yet people did talk, rightly, that it should be better, and all that.

Why are people hardly knowledgeable ?

It was baffling.

Why and how could people at large still be so caught up with their identities of caste, nationalism, religionism, and all media and all writers even accepting it, they too having their “pet theories” ?

How can one accept it? While openly saying that it is absurd, and even knowing?

Barring a very few, who spoke and still speak the plain truth, what was so wrong with the world? How and when did it go so wrong?

It is ok for a world to have ignorance.

But ALL being ignorant?

But if a few were not speaking out, and even knowing and being sure of the obvious lies, then how can and could have the world change or changed?

It cannot be true, he protested. Yet, there it was, this world. He was sure and yet not sure. He was also sure, by this time, that nobody was sure and yet sure, even too sure, but alone and within their room.

It was like a spectrum, of degrees of being sure, and from lowest to highest, but all were human too, bio-centric too. That is always true he felt. So, he felt why cannot simply all accept we are bio-centric and be happy?

He remembered the song – IMAGINE, by John Lennon.

What had gotten to people? ALL people!!

YET…he knew…almost as if he had seen it for centuries, and he had read enough, and maybe it was inductive enough…and he knew in his heart, and simply, that it was nothing surprising. In fact, it was boringly familiar, banal, obvious and nothing could be done about it.

He laughed too…

So, he lived on, neither being able to accept the world, nor becoming cynical, and alone and terribly alone, yet with great moments of bliss, ever present, and with self sufficiency, and love and even harmony, with all, yet a feeling of incurable depressive feeling, of --what for?

Anyway, he knew ironically, too, that life was not serious, life being mortal. He had gone through a long process of angst about life being mortal too, and he had that deep “religious” conditioning too. But again, he had and he had not. It was just a kind of baggage. And he had simply managed his simple life.

And he knew…that he had known this even -what he was thinking right now -for centuries,(it felt to him) and he knew even this was part of his cry…and he stopped writing….

He switched off his lights, and he slept, and after getting up, he felt so nice, simply because he had cried out. Maybe that is it. This is the world, and it IS the world. What can I do? He had told himself this so many times… he thought.

And he looked at the pure and fresh morning sky and its stunning beauty with sun, clouds and light…with his familiar peace and his bliss.

And he knew he would continue simply to see and learn more and more, and would share with all, and that he loved it. And WITH all, in the whole spectrum, and he had to, as this WAS life, for him, and bio-centrically, for anybody.