NavDharmyug

I dabbled into literature almost since, well, forever. I would read thick books and doodle on the last pages of my engineering notebooks as a college boy and in the last pages math notebooks with neat blocks printed over the pages. Some felt it was poetry, but to my young mind which I always refer to a troubled soul which knew little and felt much, it was the only relief which my troubled soul could find. When I dig deeper into my soul and look at myself twenty year younger, searching for answers in written words, my own and of the greats whom I read with great sense of admiration and hope, I tend to believe my early reading could have sowed the seeds of my own discomfort with the world around me. Literature made me believe in the possibility of ideals. I guess that is a danger that every serious reader carries. That, and the possibility of eventually turning into a writer himself. I went through both, belief in the possibility of a life which we read that it has a possibility of...

Today is the day of Logic. A few days back, annoyed with the world which makes less and less of a sense as the time passes by, I put up a status on my Facebook account. Annoyed and angry and disappointed with failure of logic and my own insistence to stick logic to buffoonish face of the world, I wrote. I wrote, " It is most unfair to expect life to be fair. Life is not designed to be fair. Life is just designed to be. When you expect life to be fair, you are being unfair to yourself. You will weigh heavy with guilt or sense of failure. To search for justice in this world is a tiresome and futile exercise. Do not expect life to be fair and the world around to be just, but be just and fair anyway."   Prompt came the reply, from good friend Vinay, " There is no fixed point, its an experience. People work hard to look good and they do. Events like machines have processes. Like aesthetics, justice floats in our eyes. Problem is that we can't overcome the judgemen...