Inside the Big Picture

Our life is a pale blue dot, in its scheme we are stumbling over, trying to connect the mess and maze, when the fragments of so many things around us are making the grey areas so black that we feel, so dark is everything but the time of our birth and death when we feel a little alive. The social connection and the power structures are too corrupt; on their foundation we are a blunder, trying to find the solution in some utopian ideals; we have also invented gods and goddesses — so many of them divided on the lines of false beliefs — but we have harked back to heaven while we made this place a hell; and when we finally see some light in books and education, these have so suddenly become an economic and financial thing, we read and study for the sake of livelihood. We are bunch of memories; the moment when we get rid of the present moment, we are lost in the past — as we explain about things; as from experience, we plan about; we talk to others as we relate to others — all of these are reply to our past yet our reality persists as I write from my frame of reference, as your read with yours. And I see full of happiness and sadness in me, full of hope and dejection, and you are also full of happiness and sadness in you, full of hope and dejection; and we build our own barriers — I wonder how have we been living together for such long.



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