Skip to main content

Ideas Penetrating

For the most part of our lives, we remain foolish. In our childhood we were too young to care. Our distractions drive us away from the real tension that we create. And what we create will always be a questioning thought, which we don't need in the first place. Maybe we revolve around these thoughts, because we have nothing else to do. We roam around criticizing people that aren't like us, we worship those who rebelled the way we couldn't, we laugh when we live the way we always wanted, and just when we become what we realize, it's still missing something. Beyond our addictions and regrets, our whirlpool of emotions and the numb feelings that never, ever leave us, we will never know why we still do this. And yet we still do it. Humans are foolish. They don't just stop at survival. They explore existence and they'll never get tired of it. It's foolish, because then happiness will be at a distance, but the ones who make it will realize that there is more than just a fine line between happiness and contentment.

-Anushruti Adhikari (अनुश्रुति अधिकारी )



Comments

  1. good one Anu..." in our childhood we were to young to care "

    ReplyDelete
  2. I might want to share it. Do I have the permission to share it on my wall (along with the credit)?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Price of Emptiness - Part I

Kiss your shoulders. Raise your hand and suck on your wrist, to know how it feels to be loved. Wait for the goosebumps, then slowly let them rest on your cheeks. Noone will know what happened. The day ends, the light rests on the hills, just like that girl's head rested on the boy's lap, you know, just a while ago? And when they closed their eyes the night was declared. Will they ever know? Clickety-clack. Your heels have made their last noise for the day. The room is just how you left it in the morning. What will you do to see the chair, maybe a little on the left? Maybe a few strange and warm wrinkles on the bed?  You're home. Someone needs to know that you're home. Your heels made noise. Someone needs to hear it.  You burnt your dinner. You wore your sweater inside out. Your socks don't match.  Noone will ever know.  And the only sound that will drown the noise of you chewing, is the sound, the terrible shreak of you, acc...
The undecided being Our tracks were never made. We will never make them either. Paths aren't  created for others to walk on. And no one, I swear no one will ever walk the same path that you have. Our lives are as vast as this land. Our paths will be just the same way. Do you make your path to walk on? You don't. You don't have a path. You don't build one. You don't follow a trail. Life was never about having a path. Life was always, always about getting lost. But life was never about losing your purpose. It was never about looking at your past or future. Life is, and will always be, about finding peace. The true meaning of existence, of becoming a human. Why do we spend hours trying to figure out what is wrong with us? Why don't we stop in the middle and realize that life is just a part of the existence? That mistakes are not worth sobbing over if we don't have much time? Do you know how close you are to death? Do you realize how morta...
A Week After The Valentine's I haven't understood love. As we grow up, our perception of love and life differs greatly. Often, we tend to overshadow one with the other, and that is exactly where we make mistakes. Balance. Balance. Balance. It's everything we want. What's worse, is that we are flawless humans, which means we have a chain of imperfections and we constantly need someone to appreciate them. Why, I wonder, can't we do it ourselves? My greatest struggle with self is acceptance. Appreciation. I'm divided. I want to show people that I am divided. Then I want them to love me even more. That's love for me. Valentine's day comes and goes, yet not a single day do you accept yourself. We leave the job of loving ourselves to each other. We praise each other, talk at lengths about each other, find ourselves in each other. Because we chose the other, before ourselves. We tend to sink in the gravity of someone else's affection. It's ou...