What time is it?

It rang at 6:50 AM, it sang actually. And I got one day older, the calender jumped one step ahead and would never come back. I find it crazy, world revolves around Sun and comes back to its original start point(if it has any), then how come our lives are unidirectional. Is it just because we age with time, and we are a temporary phenomenon. I miss my grandpa who passed away a few years back, I thought time took him away, away from me. But if this whole universe, this creation just revolves, then why can't this time be a cycle, just revolving around, weaving a net around where our individual lives are threads, interwoven in different patterns, designs, intersecting with each other. Now I feel I never lost him, it's just that his thread has been displaced, it's just that his horizon has moved further away from mine. The design has changed, but our threads still intersect when I remember the way he used to carry me on his shoulders, those fond memories of my childhood. So now comes the point that if our lives are also cycles, then why do we always invest ourselves for the future, why don't we strengthen the thread right here right now, why don't we make our present colorful, when it's this thread which is going to intersect with our future. Why should we run to make the ends meet, when these are anyways going to meet as a part of a cycle.

We are always making ourselves ready for the inevitable, our demise, our departure from this mortal world. But do we make enough efforts that we touch other's lives in a beautiful way, we make their memories rich with the experiences they shared with us. Is insuring our lives, buying better return plans, accumulating wealth to be inherited by our offspring enough to make the moments they shared with us memorable. And do we experience enough beauty in the world that our eyes are filled with serene, scenic pictures when we are about to depart. It hardly matters how big your bank balance is when angels are waiting at the door, to take your soul, displace your thread.

 Death can't be as beautiful as life is, and life's beauty lies in those very moments that are indelible; that always exist through memories, legends, feelings...threads keep on changing positions, changing colors but these never cease to exist....

Realization

One flew over his head. He always had wished to fly up there, stretch out his wings and fly as high as the sky was. He despised the ones on the ground, considered them inferior than the ones up in the sky. He could feel how privileged one was up the sky with an endless expanse and a very few to accommodate in. While a sea of the unprivileged ones filled up the limited space down here. Something in him never let him believe that he belonged to here, he just considered himself an outsider who was waiting for his wings to grow and the chance to touch the sky.  And that day was coming closer, the day he would be free of this doomed place, the day he would break the shackles and fly away.

And then came the day, the day he waited for so long. The new was awaiting his arrival. He went running up there on the cliff, perched on its edge and looked around. His chest swelled with confidence, heart pumped up for the challenge which he knew he was going to win.  And then came the moment, he closed his eyes, jumped off the cliff, opened up his wings, fluttered it hard; spread his body over the air. But soon he noticed he wasn’t floating, he was going down. He tried with all his might, he tried different angles, and he tried to turn upside down but to no avail. And he fell down, luckily fell over a tree but soon grounded down. His whole body got bruised.  Cuts, contusions and scratches covered all his body. Blood dripping out of his temples, his legs got badly hurt.

But he could feel no pain; no bruise was aching but his heart. The heart which got broken. The realization of his limitations, the revelation that he was not born an elite, the knowledge of the fact that he was just like others who crawl over the lands and don’t possess the magic of wings. Tears trickled down his eyes, burning with flames of failure. He wished to die at the moment; life meant nothing to him anymore. He felt helpless, weak and a burden. He sat there, hours passed by. The sun which was up there was retiring now near the horizon. Dusk was settling around and darkness would soon engulf him, and his desires.
He saw a flier coming down there, and so he asked " what brings you down here? ". Flier said "it's my place my home". He couldn't understand so he asked "what makes it your home?, you belong to the skies, you are the privileged one because you have got wings". Flier replied "and you have the limbs, god created you with a different purpose and no creation of his' can be underprivileged". He further said "this world is a tree, if the ones who fly are leaves the ones who stay down are its roots, and the leaves are as green as rich the roots are. No matter how high I fly up in the sky my home will always stay down here". 

How random can it be??

Things refuse to make sense when laid out randomly, a jigsaw puzzle has all the pieces yet remains incomprehensible if not arranged in order. Randomness misses not a thing but order, it has all the the pieces but lacks the correct cohesion. A confused state of mind is randomness at its best, it has all the options; worst to best yet unable to choose one. We all crib about lack of options, we despise the number of options available at other's disposal. But how good does it become when we get the options? We get overwhelmed by the number of options and the abundance sucks out the certitude rather brings ambiguity. And out of oblivion we make a mess out of it.

So is it always bad to have options? Not really, options give you a sense of security but its just like a jigsaw, where no matter which end we start it from ultimately it boils down to that one last piece which makes it complete. But we must not forget that by the time we touch the last piece it becomes quite resolved what picture we were trying to draw while it was hardly recognizable when we started it arranging. Same way goes in life which is full of options and with every step, be it right or wrong we prune out the pieces and lesser complicated it becomes.

But aren't there risks involved with every step we take and every option we drop or choose? Yes there are and as a matter of fact we take wrong decisions quite often. But doesn't it make your head feel lighter than being stuffed up till the brim with ambiguities, randomness; in short a combinatorial explosion. A state of failure is still better than a state of dilemma because we don't learn anything out of confusion while failure is the best teacher one could ever have.

So what is randomness and how random is it? My take is, it is simply a lack of a scheme of prioritization of things. It is the absence of resolve, a blurred vision of mind. And we all suffer with this, yet some of us find the correct glasses to see through it while others struggle and the darkness prevails.