Friday, May 20, 2005

Bleeding within

Decay is what is happens every day, every moment. The only thing that is consistent while we live is hte fact that we die. With every breath, the decay goes ahead. The child grows, and when he is at the proverbial top, the downhill process begins, cascading, winding, denuding him, pushing him into a cavern and he doesnt realise except when he grazes past rocks which tear his hide and make gashes which run so deep that he doesnt know whether to be overwhelmed by the action of pain or by the existance of pain. Thus begins a realization of ones own time ticking away, slowly and surely, like the venom from snakebite running in someone's veins while he runs away, far from the desert and the mirage.

I often wonder, how can we refer to our lives as living while all that is happening is that we are dying? The irony is when we celebrate another years ending, another years wasting away, another year of efforts gone in vain, trying to build a future which for all we know does not exist. For once, carpe deim appears to practical and a lot less romantic.

Its funny, given that even our fingerprints dont match, we all have the will to live and to be happy. Maybe theres a pattern afterall underlying the assymetry of our lives.


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