Sunday 23 February 2014

I'm A Confused Little Lamb

As babies, we're fresh entrants into this crazy anarchic world. Our skins are soft and supple, and we don't have the faintest clue what we're getting into. We step into this life blind, and the first human contact we are greeted with is a smack to the rear. The first thing we do, the first exercise of our vocal cords is a loud high-pitched wail. Babies are confused, scared and stranded among strangers that they're meeting for the very first time.
As days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, it isn't long before a child's first day in kindergarten turns into a college graduation day. Graduation day turns into his wedding day, and his wedding day turns into the day his first baby is born. The cycle goes on, refusing to change, like one of those sitcoms that keep doing the same stuff over and over again. An endless loop, with its repetitive scheme being its biggest USP.
When, then, do all those drastic life-changes occur? When do our skins turn into hides that deflect all undesirable sensations? When do our vocal cords learn to articulate words that bear meaning, and sometimes don't? When does that feeling of living alone even in a full house cease?
And most importantly, when and how do we stop ourselves from being pulled into this inescapable loop and becoming just another face in the sea of humans that come and go like floating forgettable leaves on an autumn evening?

Are these the sort of questions that are answered by our ancient texts?
I think I need to do some serious reading.
Until then, I suppose this mind is too cluttered for clarity.

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