Have you been lucky? Wipe that sheepish smile off and think. Have you been lucky to have someone who knows you?
I look around and realise there are certain things which are taken for granted in this age and time. There’s the whole concept of love where I don’t think I have enough experience to deliver a lecture, come to think of it, nobody does. You can never be loved enough or love enough, or something like that goes that saying.
For an ant, its whole life is all about going to places in a line, collecting some huge sweet thing, lugging it on its back and bringing it back to the hideout. That’s its life. That’s what we humans think its life is. We never know, do we? We look at birds and have a construct about its life. Take any form of life for example and we think we’ve got it all figured out.
May be we’ve figured it out correctly. May be the crux of a beaver’s life is in fact building a lodge in the middle of that beautifully flowing stream. May be, just maybe, a dog’s life is all about barking at strangers, wagging its tail and sticking its tongue out all the time. We could be terribly off the mark here for all we know.
There are scholars, thinkers and even some idiots who happily claim that human life is all about loving and being loved. We are here as warm, fuzzy and emotionally delving creatures going about our lives trying to analyse other people, trying to deconstruct another complex human’s mind and actions. The answer to the question in every self-dignified, thinking, articulating human mind is the one that’s popped up at an irritating frequency, what is the purpose of human life.
Douglas Adams must have been laughing his butt off when he wrote “42”. He fucked with a lot of brains there, throwing them off the mark by a light year. He definitely must have been laughing.
Let’s assume for an instant that we aren’t the only gifted beings to possess the sixth sense. What if that dog that you saw sleeping on a platform today was contemplating on the rest of its day? What would a cat that’s fed by its owner whenever it meows constantly for a minute make of its owner? A meow controlled feeding robot perhaps? What would a dolphin make of its trainer? What would that streamlined sting ray think about the latex clad swimmer?
PS: Trying to write something in an empty room where you have a limited playlist and not many other things to do, can let the stream of consciousness travel uninhibited.