Routines make our lives smoother and easier. It is a comfortable walk if the path is familiar. If not someone else, we ourselves build routines for us, that is the easiest way to lead a peaceful life.
I don’t remember when did my friend and I start talking about movies. Sports and movies are the usual thing that we talk. We gain almost nothing apart from killing sometime together, in the name of friendship. The abundance and freshness of the information are enticing enough for our routine chit-chat.
The sun rises and sets. The seasons come and go. The whole universe is designed to follow the routines so religiously. How can we humans be an exception? We love inventing routines and that seems to work like a charm for a smooth sailing in this life.
Whenever we get the news about woman and child abuse or caste problems or…, my friend and I talk about them and analyse as if we are going to set it right on the very next day. As far as I can go in the history, I can see people who fought against all these as well as people who lived the kind of life we are dreaming of now. If I consider the number of gone years, I am tempted to feel that there is no change at all, just like 1/10 and 10/100 are mathematically equal. That is why my friend and I never worry about these more than a “news day”. Of course, when the next one comes, we talk about it with almost no words changed.
Being alone and away from the crowd is such a scariest thing. Breaking a routine is oftentimes threatening as it will take it to the state of uncertainty. Routine-less life feels like a sign for the failures ahead. We needed everything to be a routine as early as possible. Hunger for routines are deeply instinctive because of the generations of practice, though the heart desires for the freedom from it.
The older the culture and language the harder it is to destroy them. One way to do is that I myself invite the new ones as they seem required for the moment, instead of enriching my own. I know it is a self destruction. I know, this way I will keep forgetting my traditions and values. Whatever remains then seem so unwise to follow and appreciate after few generations. The other way is someone else forcing me to follow their, the foreign culture and keep demolishing mine. It can never be done in a single generation. It cannot be done by a single dictator. But can be done, like a poison, a very slow poison killing a life. That needs tactics - the ugliest ones. They, the destroyers, spread their venomous roots slowly, skillfully and when I realise it, it will be too enormous for me to do anything. I do have people to warn all these but the those nobles are rare and their words are rarely heeded. That is no wonder, because the destruction unvaryingly served sweet coated and so randomly done that I don’t get the truth as it is easily beyond my wildest dreams. Every time my culture gets a knock it becomes weaker and weaker, alas! but it walks again as if it is as stronger as before. That is just an illusion. The cunning acts, smart laws and the power will make it fall, fail miserably. My friend and I talk about these. We do get a glimpse of symptoms around us and we hope someone will take care those.
My friend and I are never going to escape the routines of this world. We will also depart from this life, taking so much pride in the fact that we lived a better life than our parents. This world will go on as if we never existed. Of course, real heroes are the ones who can comfortably step up to the plate and fearlessly deviate from the routines of this life in order to fight against the unrighteousness.
I don’t remember when did my friend and I start talking about movies. Sports and movies are the usual thing that we talk. We gain almost nothing apart from killing sometime together, in the name of friendship. The abundance and freshness of the information are enticing enough for our routine chit-chat.
The sun rises and sets. The seasons come and go. The whole universe is designed to follow the routines so religiously. How can we humans be an exception? We love inventing routines and that seems to work like a charm for a smooth sailing in this life.
Whenever we get the news about woman and child abuse or caste problems or…, my friend and I talk about them and analyse as if we are going to set it right on the very next day. As far as I can go in the history, I can see people who fought against all these as well as people who lived the kind of life we are dreaming of now. If I consider the number of gone years, I am tempted to feel that there is no change at all, just like 1/10 and 10/100 are mathematically equal. That is why my friend and I never worry about these more than a “news day”. Of course, when the next one comes, we talk about it with almost no words changed.
Being alone and away from the crowd is such a scariest thing. Breaking a routine is oftentimes threatening as it will take it to the state of uncertainty. Routine-less life feels like a sign for the failures ahead. We needed everything to be a routine as early as possible. Hunger for routines are deeply instinctive because of the generations of practice, though the heart desires for the freedom from it.
The older the culture and language the harder it is to destroy them. One way to do is that I myself invite the new ones as they seem required for the moment, instead of enriching my own. I know it is a self destruction. I know, this way I will keep forgetting my traditions and values. Whatever remains then seem so unwise to follow and appreciate after few generations. The other way is someone else forcing me to follow their, the foreign culture and keep demolishing mine. It can never be done in a single generation. It cannot be done by a single dictator. But can be done, like a poison, a very slow poison killing a life. That needs tactics - the ugliest ones. They, the destroyers, spread their venomous roots slowly, skillfully and when I realise it, it will be too enormous for me to do anything. I do have people to warn all these but the those nobles are rare and their words are rarely heeded. That is no wonder, because the destruction unvaryingly served sweet coated and so randomly done that I don’t get the truth as it is easily beyond my wildest dreams. Every time my culture gets a knock it becomes weaker and weaker, alas! but it walks again as if it is as stronger as before. That is just an illusion. The cunning acts, smart laws and the power will make it fall, fail miserably. My friend and I talk about these. We do get a glimpse of symptoms around us and we hope someone will take care those.My friend and I are never going to escape the routines of this world. We will also depart from this life, taking so much pride in the fact that we lived a better life than our parents. This world will go on as if we never existed. Of course, real heroes are the ones who can comfortably step up to the plate and fearlessly deviate from the routines of this life in order to fight against the unrighteousness.
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