There is
a boy. A young, energetic lad who wants to do well in life. He is doing a lot
to make everyone around him live a better life. He seems to be helping them. He
does everything that he is capable of (at least, this is what he is made to
believe by those around). Yet, our boy is sullen. He feels there is something
missing. He feels as if he is trapped
to do things that are much below his
real capabilities. He is feeling alone. Alone in feeling that he is operating
in a world that is fundamentally flawed. It's like a room that is devoid of any
real light. All his efforts to uplift others are mere struggles of finding
treasures in a room that is dark. He begins to believe that there is something
more to it. He desperately seeks the beacon of light to end the darkness all
around him.
In his heart, he knows, he just knows that there is light. Years pass by and his struggles continue. Oft correct, his passionately lethargic efforts to ignite, are consistent with time.
One fine evening, it happens once again. His serendipitous encounter with the knowledge that confirms what he already knows - that there is light beyond. A source of light, mighty enough to light up his entire world. He is elated. Imagine what he, a shaky attempt of a man, would be able to do in this world if it lights up? How much more difference he can make in this otherwise futile existence in the space-time void? It's a realm of possibilities that make him shudder with excitement!
This evening, something was feeling different. Life's pregnancy was palpable. Our boy saw a hand, pointing up to something in the sky. In a blink of time, he got the message. This was what they were talking about. Those glitches in the matrix of his algorithmically programmed worldly life. They had told him that one day, after all the struggles of a few hundred lifetimes are over, he will find his chance. His only chance to leave the darkness and enter the world of light to which he really belonged. In the chaotic maze of life, that day has come, the day of finality. When he finally found that hidden clue to the puzzle of the great Mystery of Light.
After enough squinting in the dark, he realises what it really is. It is the hand of the universe pointing to the source. He cries his heart out. His dry tears questioning his capacity to use that clue to solve the puzzle. He knows, all he must do is to follow the direction of this life's finger and stare at the source for a few minutes. The clouds will shift, and the moon will be clear in a matter of time. The moon, who was always there with him, yet eluding him all this while. So many lifetimes. Just 5 minutes, and the entire puzzle will have a solution. In fact, he himself will become the solution...
In his heart, he knows, he just knows that there is light. Years pass by and his struggles continue. Oft correct, his passionately lethargic efforts to ignite, are consistent with time.
One fine evening, it happens once again. His serendipitous encounter with the knowledge that confirms what he already knows - that there is light beyond. A source of light, mighty enough to light up his entire world. He is elated. Imagine what he, a shaky attempt of a man, would be able to do in this world if it lights up? How much more difference he can make in this otherwise futile existence in the space-time void? It's a realm of possibilities that make him shudder with excitement!
This evening, something was feeling different. Life's pregnancy was palpable. Our boy saw a hand, pointing up to something in the sky. In a blink of time, he got the message. This was what they were talking about. Those glitches in the matrix of his algorithmically programmed worldly life. They had told him that one day, after all the struggles of a few hundred lifetimes are over, he will find his chance. His only chance to leave the darkness and enter the world of light to which he really belonged. In the chaotic maze of life, that day has come, the day of finality. When he finally found that hidden clue to the puzzle of the great Mystery of Light.
After enough squinting in the dark, he realises what it really is. It is the hand of the universe pointing to the source. He cries his heart out. His dry tears questioning his capacity to use that clue to solve the puzzle. He knows, all he must do is to follow the direction of this life's finger and stare at the source for a few minutes. The clouds will shift, and the moon will be clear in a matter of time. The moon, who was always there with him, yet eluding him all this while. So many lifetimes. Just 5 minutes, and the entire puzzle will have a solution. In fact, he himself will become the solution...
PostScript: I know, you don't understand. My unreasonable actions and inactions; my merciless choices of life and zero tolerance to corruption. Corruption of my sense of purpose. You don't understand why I do it. It's ok, very soon you will. Let these few minutes pass.
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