Tuesday, January 22, 2013

1951 : What I call as me

My life is defined by a few trophies and symbols. Some physical, some in the air. The bike, the mother, the father, the car, my pen collection, my sisters, my huge lovely Buddha statue, Mira, my deep bond with Raavan, the spiritual connect with a Kundera or a Rushdie, adopted father figures in Dalai Lama and Alan Watts,…..get the drift?

What if, one by one, each of these was either lost or taken away, or simply died?

Or first questions first, what if, one of the more important ones, say my mother, and just that is gone?

Does that create a void?

Do I know how to fight such a cancer? Do I even want to exorcise that ghost?

How much of ME is really me, and how much of what I call as ME can survive isolated in ether? That’s really the question that I don’t have any easy answers to.

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