Another year. So that's why this whole fuss. I think a majority of people consider this change in a date an opportunity to unwind and reflect on what has gone. I think there is only one kind of Time. Past. Even the present becomes past in a second. Future is never there. Mind has a way of popping constructs and we are so deeply chained by pre-defined sets that any inevitability seems banal.
Struck by meaningless-ness all the time. My reflections are devoid of any baggages and sometimes sense. Too much importance is put on deciphering events and people, it is such a senseless exercise. Let's all be as we are and let others also be as they are, strip all expectations and enter the cave of tranquility.
There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!
- There is another sky By Emily Dickinson
Monday, January 2, 2012
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2 comments:
I figure that the fuss is the sound of hope. Hope- the undying desire. Always.
Maybe. Maybe not. Whatever way it spells constant Time.
And yes, Hope is not easy to quell.
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