No matter how much you train yourself, there are things, when it really happens, makes what you pretend to be to vanish and the true nature of your to come out. Generally, it destroys your happiness.
For me, one such thing is seeing old people and beggars who awkwardly handicapped struggling. I really don't want to bother about these people. I just want to move on as if I had not seen them or it is just another ordinary person in this world. I want my heart to be still. But it never happens. It hurts. Even if it is for a second, its target is at the softest and deepest.
I used to provide food and offer coins. I thought I would make a difference at least for a day. I thought it would add if God exists and if He counts it. But then that was long time back. I am no longer interested in doing these. No real reason to share - I am one of those who accept their thoughts without much questioning.
In fact, the moment I see these people, the first question I ask myself is 'why these people can't choose to die than this struggle?’ Is killing oneself that tough? Are they really confident about their feature? Do they really have trust in God and believe God has right time to take them? Are they really afraid of life after death or they think this is the only life and wish to live it to the fullest? Why, why are they dragging on, what for?
I know even the one who says, 'I would be happy if I die now' won't die now. What is that astonishing thing that holds them here and refuses to leave this earth, especially those who are presumably hopeless?
Binding yourself to something is so wonderful. When you miss it, it is loneliness. That is turmoil. These old people are alone in the midst of every one of us. I am sure I have only weakest of things to say why these people should die instead of someone helping them. But it is ok, I don't believe in 'Beethoven’s. I know it is tough. You know the Divine Pig!. It is tough even for the son of God. Nikos Kazantzakis shows it wonderfully in his book, The Last Temptation of Jesus Christ.
Note: I took the photos (inserted above) while I was in Cidambaram Nataraja temple last week.
Kovil Pillai P.
For me, one such thing is seeing old people and beggars who awkwardly handicapped struggling. I really don't want to bother about these people. I just want to move on as if I had not seen them or it is just another ordinary person in this world. I want my heart to be still. But it never happens. It hurts. Even if it is for a second, its target is at the softest and deepest.
I used to provide food and offer coins. I thought I would make a difference at least for a day. I thought it would add if God exists and if He counts it. But then that was long time back. I am no longer interested in doing these. No real reason to share - I am one of those who accept their thoughts without much questioning.
In fact, the moment I see these people, the first question I ask myself is 'why these people can't choose to die than this struggle?’ Is killing oneself that tough? Are they really confident about their feature? Do they really have trust in God and believe God has right time to take them? Are they really afraid of life after death or they think this is the only life and wish to live it to the fullest? Why, why are they dragging on, what for?
I know even the one who says, 'I would be happy if I die now' won't die now. What is that astonishing thing that holds them here and refuses to leave this earth, especially those who are presumably hopeless?
Binding yourself to something is so wonderful. When you miss it, it is loneliness. That is turmoil. These old people are alone in the midst of every one of us. I am sure I have only weakest of things to say why these people should die instead of someone helping them. But it is ok, I don't believe in 'Beethoven’s. I know it is tough. You know the Divine Pig!. It is tough even for the son of God. Nikos Kazantzakis shows it wonderfully in his book, The Last Temptation of Jesus Christ.
Note: I took the photos (inserted above) while I was in Cidambaram Nataraja temple last week.
Kovil Pillai P.
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