'Good intentions don't move mountains, bulldozers do.' Professor S used to always this to us when we made excuses and spoke of things not working out.
Had a conversation this weekend with my friend R who wants to adopt a baby when he gets married. A noble thought, but one that has always disturbed me. I asked him why he wanted to adopt a baby, and he said because he wants to help an underprivileged orphan child. Wrong reasons I said. The only reason to adopt a child should be because you want a child. That's all. No explanations and reasons of helping and making a difference. Because then, you're bringing up your adopted child as a case of charity instead of love without reason, which is what you would have had towards your biological child. He spoke of the scores of orphaned children in the world and said that by doing this he would truly make a difference. But the thing was he was waiting for a day in the future when he would do that, and as a result spent 35 years doing nothing about it. Is adopting the only way to help Orphan children? And if your intentions are not clear, even that adoption would not help. Perhaps one day, when the child is grown up, and does something that doesn't agree with you, you'd start counting your charities extended through his life. Perhaps. So now he's contemplating doing something actively for Orphan children on a larger scale. And when he does adopt, he says, it will be for the right reasons.
Got me thinking a lot about 'Making a Difference' and how all of us want to do that. We wish to be of use, be productive, and contribute to the Earth. Noble thoughts but not bulldozers.
If each of us took our good intentions and started making them work, our lives would be more fulfilled. I've always wanted grandparents to be around when I grew up. Unfortunately they died early. And my mother's mother, a gentle lovely woman with a quirky sense of humour and a great cook, I wished I had more time with. I often spoke to friends and said I wish I could adopt grandparents.
While creating a community project for my Landmark course, I decided to take this up. I see senior citizens around who don't have people to chat with or those with failing eyesight who would love to keep in touch with the world, if only someone would spend some time taking them through the newspaper or a book. I wanted to do something that made me spend time with them, not out of charity but because I feel I can benefit from their wisdom and company. I decided to create a forum of readers and companions for senior citizens – a group of volunteers who they can call on to read or have a conversation with. Good Intentions. Yes. But it's been four weeks since then and I haven't yet summoned the bulldozers.
My cubicle mate, SD, asked me when I shared this with him, what is it that you want to do. I said spend time with the elderly. He said 'then why wait till you have all the volunteers and the system in place to make it perfect. Just go and read to one elderly person and start it off. The rest will fall into place.'
True. The bulldozer is here. Mountain, beware.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Everyday Musings > With compliments
A few days ago, V from artnlight.blogspot.com wrote to me saying she’s been reading all my blogs and she liked them and that she’d like to do a post on me on her blog. I was touched, and then, a day later, the post is up. I read it, and was overwhelmed by the generosity of her words and the spirit that makes her so open with her appreciation.
It led me to wonder about appreciation and how generous are we with it in our lives. There are plenty of times I’ve watched a great play and not gone backstage and congratulated the cast, either because I thought there must be enough people already doing that or because they surely must know they did a great job , so it’s ok. But last night, I watched a play, Karodon Me Ek, where one of the audience members shared her appreciation and wept in front of the cast, and left them so touched and inspired.
Among one of the countless quotes scribbled down in my college days was this - Everyone needs recognition for his accomplishments, but few people make the need known quite as clearly as the little boy who said to his father: “Let’s play darts. I’ll throw and you say ‘Wonderful!’“
Everyone wishes to be recognised for the things they do in life. It could be as simple as getting up to give a seat to an elderly person in a bus or jotting down notes for a friend who missed a lecture, or saving a seat for a friend in a busy canteen. It’s not always about verbally saying thank you. Sometimes, it’s just a warm smile, a squeeze of the hand, a slap on the back, a post-it note. Recognition is an acknowledgment that they made a difference.
Sharing appreciation is uncomfortable at most times. It seems like we’re being formal when we say the words ‘thank you’ to people close to us. Sometimes we go out of our way to recognise and appreciate strangers who help us but hardly ever acknowledge the ones closest to us. Like our parents or friends. Making a meal for mom and letting her take the day off, getting dad a DVD of the best cricket matches India ever played and watching it with him, taking care of the kids and giving your wife some time off, just sitting and listening to your grandparents...just to tell them that we care and appreciate what they do for us.
Teacher’s Day, Boss’s Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day...Hallmark makes a killing on these days by simply giving people a reason to say ‘thank you’ without being embarrassed about saying so. I’d got dad a tiny little plaque that said ‘world’s best dad’ when I was in school. It’s still one of his prized possessions and he keeps it somewhere he can see daily and talks of it and says ‘I’m the best daughter in the world’.
Appreciating opens up worlds we did not know exist. And when we acknowledge someone else, we’re really acknowledging humanity. And sometimes it’s also about acknowledging those who don’t seem to be on the same page as us. As Obama generously said in his speech – “And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. I need your help. And I will be your president, too.”
So today, I thank all of you who’ve been reading Everyday Musings; the ones who read every one of them, the ones who read just one, the ones who read none but saved it in their inboxes promising to read it soon, the ones who chose to follow the blog, the ones who chose not to, the ones who forwarded it to their friends, the ones who didn’t, the ones who look forward to them, the silent readers, the vocal ones, the ones who shared how you felt, what it did to you, what it didn’t. Thank you so much.
It led me to wonder about appreciation and how generous are we with it in our lives. There are plenty of times I’ve watched a great play and not gone backstage and congratulated the cast, either because I thought there must be enough people already doing that or because they surely must know they did a great job , so it’s ok. But last night, I watched a play, Karodon Me Ek, where one of the audience members shared her appreciation and wept in front of the cast, and left them so touched and inspired.
Among one of the countless quotes scribbled down in my college days was this - Everyone needs recognition for his accomplishments, but few people make the need known quite as clearly as the little boy who said to his father: “Let’s play darts. I’ll throw and you say ‘Wonderful!’“
Everyone wishes to be recognised for the things they do in life. It could be as simple as getting up to give a seat to an elderly person in a bus or jotting down notes for a friend who missed a lecture, or saving a seat for a friend in a busy canteen. It’s not always about verbally saying thank you. Sometimes, it’s just a warm smile, a squeeze of the hand, a slap on the back, a post-it note. Recognition is an acknowledgment that they made a difference.
Sharing appreciation is uncomfortable at most times. It seems like we’re being formal when we say the words ‘thank you’ to people close to us. Sometimes we go out of our way to recognise and appreciate strangers who help us but hardly ever acknowledge the ones closest to us. Like our parents or friends. Making a meal for mom and letting her take the day off, getting dad a DVD of the best cricket matches India ever played and watching it with him, taking care of the kids and giving your wife some time off, just sitting and listening to your grandparents...just to tell them that we care and appreciate what they do for us.
Teacher’s Day, Boss’s Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day...Hallmark makes a killing on these days by simply giving people a reason to say ‘thank you’ without being embarrassed about saying so. I’d got dad a tiny little plaque that said ‘world’s best dad’ when I was in school. It’s still one of his prized possessions and he keeps it somewhere he can see daily and talks of it and says ‘I’m the best daughter in the world’.
Appreciating opens up worlds we did not know exist. And when we acknowledge someone else, we’re really acknowledging humanity. And sometimes it’s also about acknowledging those who don’t seem to be on the same page as us. As Obama generously said in his speech – “And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. I need your help. And I will be your president, too.”
So today, I thank all of you who’ve been reading Everyday Musings; the ones who read every one of them, the ones who read just one, the ones who read none but saved it in their inboxes promising to read it soon, the ones who chose to follow the blog, the ones who chose not to, the ones who forwarded it to their friends, the ones who didn’t, the ones who look forward to them, the silent readers, the vocal ones, the ones who shared how you felt, what it did to you, what it didn’t. Thank you so much.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Everyday Musings > Funny Bone
My friend The Kid told me that I don't have a sense of humour. And that too because I don't laugh at his silly puns. Hmph. Not willing to let it go just like that, I investigated.
What makes me laugh? Woody Allen's books and his movies or even just a picture of him. Micheal Palin's dry wit. Yes Prime Minister. Russel Peters stand up acts. Candid Camera. A fish called Wanda. Oscar the movie. Eddie Izzard's History of the World. Winston Churchill. The Mahabharat scene from Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron. Hasya Vyang that used to feature on DD. Oscar Wilde. Ogden Nash and 'when you see a panther, don't anther'.
Dry, witty, sarcastic humour gets me rolling and smiling all day, but I love my share of surdy jokes as well. But puns, somehow, get my goat, unless they're intelligent and not hugely corny. A friend of mine was working with the Times, and he walked into a room where there were dying carnations in a vase that were being watered. He quipped 'reincarnation' and no one laughed. It had me rolling. I'm surrounded by people who pun. Are puns the easiest access to humour? Is it that everyone can pun, well or terribly, since even a bad pun is a comedy act, but not everyone can tell a good joke?
Can people be coached to be funny? I googled 'being funny' and saw that it's big business. There are coaches like Stanley Lyndon who uses the God model and promise to make you funny in 7 days! Woody Allen said 'I think being funny is not anyone's first choice'. People wished to be astronauts and engineers and actors, but not stand-up comedians. Though that's changing. Serious brands are willing to look at the funny side of things to connect faster to their customers, bosses now crack a lot more jokes to seem approachable and the fun chap at work is looked up to. Even sadhus and politicians and newscasters crack jokes to keep people interested. Being funny is now not considered being immature or not serious. It's been seen as a talent and there are careers to be made of it.
I also came across Laugh Lab who researched nations with the best sense of humour - strangely Germany tops the list. They also said different countries reacted to different kinds of jokes.
People from Ireland and the UK loved wordplay. Patient: "I've got some strawberry stuck up my bum" Doctor: "I've got some cream for that."
The Americans and Canadians liked gags which had a sense of superiority. Texan: "Where are you from?" Harvard Grad: "I come from a place where we do not end our sentences with propositions" Texan: "Ok, where are you from, Jackass."
France and Belgium liked ones which had a surreal element in them. Like An Alsatian went to a telegram office, took out a blank form and wrote; "Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof." The clerk examined the paper and politely told the dog, "There are only nine words here. You could send another "Woof" for the same price. "But", the dog replied, "that would make no sense at all."
Ha ha ha ha. So the next time The Kid says I don't have a funny bone, I've decided to just laugh it off.
What makes me laugh? Woody Allen's books and his movies or even just a picture of him. Micheal Palin's dry wit. Yes Prime Minister. Russel Peters stand up acts. Candid Camera. A fish called Wanda. Oscar the movie. Eddie Izzard's History of the World. Winston Churchill. The Mahabharat scene from Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron. Hasya Vyang that used to feature on DD. Oscar Wilde. Ogden Nash and 'when you see a panther, don't anther'.
Dry, witty, sarcastic humour gets me rolling and smiling all day, but I love my share of surdy jokes as well. But puns, somehow, get my goat, unless they're intelligent and not hugely corny. A friend of mine was working with the Times, and he walked into a room where there were dying carnations in a vase that were being watered. He quipped 'reincarnation' and no one laughed. It had me rolling. I'm surrounded by people who pun. Are puns the easiest access to humour? Is it that everyone can pun, well or terribly, since even a bad pun is a comedy act, but not everyone can tell a good joke?
Can people be coached to be funny? I googled 'being funny' and saw that it's big business. There are coaches like Stanley Lyndon who uses the God model and promise to make you funny in 7 days! Woody Allen said 'I think being funny is not anyone's first choice'. People wished to be astronauts and engineers and actors, but not stand-up comedians. Though that's changing. Serious brands are willing to look at the funny side of things to connect faster to their customers, bosses now crack a lot more jokes to seem approachable and the fun chap at work is looked up to. Even sadhus and politicians and newscasters crack jokes to keep people interested. Being funny is now not considered being immature or not serious. It's been seen as a talent and there are careers to be made of it.
I also came across Laugh Lab who researched nations with the best sense of humour - strangely Germany tops the list. They also said different countries reacted to different kinds of jokes.
People from Ireland and the UK loved wordplay. Patient: "I've got some strawberry stuck up my bum" Doctor: "I've got some cream for that."
The Americans and Canadians liked gags which had a sense of superiority. Texan: "Where are you from?" Harvard Grad: "I come from a place where we do not end our sentences with propositions" Texan: "Ok, where are you from, Jackass."
France and Belgium liked ones which had a surreal element in them. Like An Alsatian went to a telegram office, took out a blank form and wrote; "Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof. Woof." The clerk examined the paper and politely told the dog, "There are only nine words here. You could send another "Woof" for the same price. "But", the dog replied, "that would make no sense at all."
Ha ha ha ha. So the next time The Kid says I don't have a funny bone, I've decided to just laugh it off.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Everyday Musings > Not time yet
I live out situations in my head. And in the theatre of my life, I have the wittiest lines, the best comebacks and a life where I live out my dreams every day. But in reality, I'm standing, with a 'things to do' list, waiting for a moment that's around a corner without realising I live in a circle.
Maryanne Williamson says, "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
We wait our whole lives to live the life we want to live, to do the things we want to do. 'It's not time yet', we say to ourselves. 'I'll have fun and freak out. But today I need to work'. 'I'll take my family to a great vacation, but not now, someday'. 'I'll learn to dance, next year'. 'I'll start a business of my own, when I feel the risk is minimal.' 'I'll backpack around Europe, let me get used to the idea.' 'I'd love to bungee jump, let me think about it.'
Our dreams are secondary to our survival, and we get so caught up in the predictable routine which we know will bring us a predictable productive future, that we postpone our dreams.
Each one of us has an unfulfilled wish list. Mine's an ongoing one. I want to travel to Europe. See Paris or London or New York in Christmas. I want to dance all my life. I want to write a book. I want to have a baby. I want to learn how to sing. I want to bungee jump. I want a house in the hills I retire to. I want to love like I've never loved before. I want to make a difference in people's lives. I want to make people around me fulfil their dreams.
I sat on this list for a long time, waiting for a good time to start doing what I want. I realised the good time is 'now'. So I'm ticking things off, making new experiences, so that when I shut my eye, I don't have a pillow of regrets to sleep on.
This is one of my favourite poems, Warning by Jenny Joseph. She talks of living her life, being herself, 'making up' for living such a sedate life, and doing whatever she feels like, but only when she grows old. Read it aloud, or have someone read it to you. I found myself in her words, you might too.
Warning by Jenny Joseph
"When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat, which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beer mats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple."
Maryanne Williamson says, "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
We wait our whole lives to live the life we want to live, to do the things we want to do. 'It's not time yet', we say to ourselves. 'I'll have fun and freak out. But today I need to work'. 'I'll take my family to a great vacation, but not now, someday'. 'I'll learn to dance, next year'. 'I'll start a business of my own, when I feel the risk is minimal.' 'I'll backpack around Europe, let me get used to the idea.' 'I'd love to bungee jump, let me think about it.'
Our dreams are secondary to our survival, and we get so caught up in the predictable routine which we know will bring us a predictable productive future, that we postpone our dreams.
Each one of us has an unfulfilled wish list. Mine's an ongoing one. I want to travel to Europe. See Paris or London or New York in Christmas. I want to dance all my life. I want to write a book. I want to have a baby. I want to learn how to sing. I want to bungee jump. I want a house in the hills I retire to. I want to love like I've never loved before. I want to make a difference in people's lives. I want to make people around me fulfil their dreams.
I sat on this list for a long time, waiting for a good time to start doing what I want. I realised the good time is 'now'. So I'm ticking things off, making new experiences, so that when I shut my eye, I don't have a pillow of regrets to sleep on.
This is one of my favourite poems, Warning by Jenny Joseph. She talks of living her life, being herself, 'making up' for living such a sedate life, and doing whatever she feels like, but only when she grows old. Read it aloud, or have someone read it to you. I found myself in her words, you might too.
Warning by Jenny Joseph
"When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat, which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beer mats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple."
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Everyday Musings > Not in the mood
Our moods rule our lives. Mine have ever since I can remember.
I'd wait for the weather to tell me what I felt like wearing, would study when I felt like studying, suddenly feel in the mood to sleep during my Math tuitions and bounce back to a happy mood when it was time to chat with friends.
Moods stay on in spells. Sometimes for days, months, even years. Some are personal to us, like you're generally feeling blue, don't want to step out of bed, just lie in, contemplate, eat junk, watch tv, be numb. Then there's the infectious moods everyone catches, like Monday Blues, Saturday Night fever. Or holiday moods or exam blues. All moods we live everyday. Artistic temperament is nothing but a mood swing. In an artist – very inspiring, in your spouse – as irritating. We all have our pet mood phrases. 'I'm like this only', 'Mood nahi hai yaar', 'Don't feel like it','Chod na yaar', 'Bore ho raha hai yaar', 'Tu apna kaam kar na'.
My friend S today sent me a link to a website www.moodcheck.com. It had a list of questions on multiple choice questions which finally lead to what mood you're in right now. Their moods were classified under 'intuition', 'satisfaction', 'perfection' and 'innovation'. I've never seen moods classified like that. Each seemed to lead to an action. If mine came up innovation, I would probably be energetic and raring to go and create something. If Satisfaction, then I had probably just finished with my job list or fulfilled a wish.
Moods are a result of our inaction or action. Not vice versa. This means we think about something and then do or not do something about it and our mood arises as a result of it. This means, we always create our moods. They stem from us. Then why do all of us feel so powerless in the face of a mood. Why do we deal with it like it's something that jumped on us from a tree, and we have no control over it?
Now when I look back, I realise that I manipulated my life with my moods, choosing to believe that my moods choose what I would do. And lived like that. Avoiding things I didn't want to do, doing things that suited me, living a life that was well within my comfort zone.
Writing 500 words a day started as a reaction to the moods. I realised that I always waited for an inspiration to do anything. A mood that made it worth the effort. I was being a slave to excuses and reasons when I gave into my moods. And decided to write 500 words regardless of the mood that I am in.
To tell you the truth, I'm not in the mood to write this right now. And my mind's found enough reasons to not to. I'm suddenly very sleepy, there's a mosquito that's demanding my attention, my feet feel dry and I need to cream them, I'm thirsty too, and probably will feel hungry soon, even though I just had my dinner. 500 words done. Guess I'm not in the mood for excuses today.
I'd wait for the weather to tell me what I felt like wearing, would study when I felt like studying, suddenly feel in the mood to sleep during my Math tuitions and bounce back to a happy mood when it was time to chat with friends.
Moods stay on in spells. Sometimes for days, months, even years. Some are personal to us, like you're generally feeling blue, don't want to step out of bed, just lie in, contemplate, eat junk, watch tv, be numb. Then there's the infectious moods everyone catches, like Monday Blues, Saturday Night fever. Or holiday moods or exam blues. All moods we live everyday. Artistic temperament is nothing but a mood swing. In an artist – very inspiring, in your spouse – as irritating. We all have our pet mood phrases. 'I'm like this only', 'Mood nahi hai yaar', 'Don't feel like it','Chod na yaar', 'Bore ho raha hai yaar', 'Tu apna kaam kar na'.
My friend S today sent me a link to a website www.moodcheck.com. It had a list of questions on multiple choice questions which finally lead to what mood you're in right now. Their moods were classified under 'intuition', 'satisfaction', 'perfection' and 'innovation'. I've never seen moods classified like that. Each seemed to lead to an action. If mine came up innovation, I would probably be energetic and raring to go and create something. If Satisfaction, then I had probably just finished with my job list or fulfilled a wish.
Moods are a result of our inaction or action. Not vice versa. This means we think about something and then do or not do something about it and our mood arises as a result of it. This means, we always create our moods. They stem from us. Then why do all of us feel so powerless in the face of a mood. Why do we deal with it like it's something that jumped on us from a tree, and we have no control over it?
Now when I look back, I realise that I manipulated my life with my moods, choosing to believe that my moods choose what I would do. And lived like that. Avoiding things I didn't want to do, doing things that suited me, living a life that was well within my comfort zone.
Writing 500 words a day started as a reaction to the moods. I realised that I always waited for an inspiration to do anything. A mood that made it worth the effort. I was being a slave to excuses and reasons when I gave into my moods. And decided to write 500 words regardless of the mood that I am in.
To tell you the truth, I'm not in the mood to write this right now. And my mind's found enough reasons to not to. I'm suddenly very sleepy, there's a mosquito that's demanding my attention, my feet feel dry and I need to cream them, I'm thirsty too, and probably will feel hungry soon, even though I just had my dinner. 500 words done. Guess I'm not in the mood for excuses today.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Everyday Musings > Q&A
My friend Bilat sent me a forward today on questions that haunt. Some of them were quirky and interesting - 'Can you cry under water? How important does a person have to be before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered? Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground? Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent human being would eat?'
I used to read Open Space, in the Sunday Times, which talked of such questions. They would invite readers to research and send in answers, and publish the correct answers with some funny ones as well. Questions have always intrigued us. And all progress is a result of constant enquiry. Fish questioning why they couldn't get out and walk, Early Man questioning what would happen if he struck two stones, or lay his meat on the fire. Eve wondering what would happen if she ate an apple. Newton asking 'why did the apple fall.' Questions are catalysts for evolution.
Even in religion, where the presence of God is a matter of faith, questions and debates are encouraged for further understanding of the nature of reality and God. Buddhist teachers wrote Zen Koans, or 'checking questions" to validate an experience of insight and put a great thought into a couple of words. Koans are not rational questions with final linear conclusions. They are especially designed for one purpose - to open the mind that has been closed by habitual responses to the world and reality. Like once when Zen Master Unmon said to his disciple, "The world is vast and wide. Why do you put on your robes at the sound of a bell?"
As children, we all asked questions. Profound questions that adults sometimes had no answers for, or wondered 'where do kids come up with all these questions'. But as we grow up, we shy away from questions, and believe that only people who do not know ask questions. The wise ones have answers. And thus life becomes all about killing the questions and having the right answers, the quick answers, the witty answers, the noble answers, the perfect answers.
I always believed that my life was a quest for answers, for a purpose, for that one thing I'm on Earth for. But I have come to realise that my life is really a quest for questions. The nature of my questions will determine the quality of life that I have. What do I have for breakfast? or 'Why can't I get an auto when I want one?' will lead my life in one direction, and 'How can I eradicate hunger ?' or 'How do I give senior citizens a fulfilled, joyful life?' will lead my life in another direction altogether.
Answers can never exist without definite Questions, whereas a Question can always exist without an apparent answer. And even if it is answered, unless the answer doesn't fit our understanding of what its answer should be, chances are, we'll keep asking it again and again. Like our quest o know the meaning of life. As far as I know, Douglas Adams, in his book, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, answered 'What is the meaning of life, the universe and everything?' The answer is 42.
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