Teaching myself...

What..i dont know...bt then teachings are necessary to calm the urging soul. the never satisfied soul. the incessantly craving soul. And yet teachings are necessary to teach that teachings themselves are redundant.


It was the day after the Purnima last night...Maa said it was shuklopokhsha...To describe the moon i will take the privilege of a few words. A slight bloating of the roundedness of shape, a few black marks getting more apparent on its surface..maybe because the moon with one day after the full moon was a trifle less brilliant.

That moon reminded me of my last fourteen months. There was no pain in that remembrance but surprise that i remembered so many incidents in life inside and outside of the soul. That my filtering mechanisms made me remember all of them with a kind of fondness made me feel good.

And then bhatta played Rim Jhim Gire Sawan....

Maa called and i ..the child replied.

Everytime she calls i have no answers to the question. A question which maa crops up for me ever so incessantly. And i know its a question i face but i hide from since i have no answers to suitably reply it with.

When do i get back home? What home? i sometimes wonder. Maybe the lap of maa is my only home in whichever part of the world.

The week has been terrible. But then life at large is terrible too isnt it hahahahah:)

The work content is going down gutters.
Trying for jobs i feel so un-enthused about life because i believe that everything else is as much a hypocrisy as the one i am currently doing. How do i show a greater interest to embroil myself in this network of hypocrisy.
And then the hope to pursue knowledge has started dimming the first of rejections has started flowing in. From Purdue that too a university which i thought should be convertible.


That is the uncertainty of life. That again is the proof of my thoughts and intuitions falling short of the Force at Large's intuitions and thoughts. how foolish am not i that i despite all the disprovings still think that i think in the right direction?

Thus i end. Contradicting myself..for as whitman so rightly says 'i am large and i contain multitudes'...

I must teach myself to know the futility of teaching.
Love to know the futility of loving.
Write to know the uselessness of words
Cry to realise the mistiming of tears
Smile to ponder later about their non-necessities.
And yet continue to teach myself.


I am i think my own teacher, maa says rightly and my own student too.

Maa u r great.

`thechild