"Thar she blows," I heard on the laptop somebody was playing a movie on, as it turned out the geeks were never in doubt about what they wanted to bring to a train. Entertainment that's all they wanted and in their quest for it, they labored through movies ranging from the docile love stories to the stormy passionate ones, there was action too, and that's what I heard on the laptop, sounded like one of those war ship movies, there was a lot of noise of stormy seas and splashing of water as the sailors tried to keep the ship afloat.
The train was rocking, it was probably the tracks, they were old and the clatter was keeping the passengers quiet, the attendant walked in with a tray full of fruit juice, there was apple, banana and orange, I kinda preferred the mixed juice but they didn't have it, so I picked up the orange juice for myself and an apple for Anjali. It was tangy and sweet but there was nothing about it that made up for the pieces of oranges that floated in the drink, it was sweet and soothing for the mind, it had the flavor of large wine drink in the mid summer afternoon, and my mind started to drift to earlier conversations.
"The wine glasses in the art magazine, they look fantastic."
"Any idea how they are made ?" I asked equally curious about what she had read.
"They say that the wine glasses are smoldered through a cauldron and the smoke is felt through the glass to give it shape."
"Isn't that the best possible way to make things work ?"
"I was thinking maybe it is rational to think of questioning the established authority glass making," she said mockingly.
"That seems to be alright assumption."
"So what if I put the melted glass through a pot of sand and leveraged the pieces to get the ideal mix out of everything, see the melted glass would create very creative art pieces and then these could be cooled down in cauldron of water to give them solid shape," she said thinking, obviously she had done a lot of thinking while I had been designing my computer system.
All thought came from our senses and our senses received these inputs from some "matter" as yet undefined in my head, so if all our actions were a matter of the information that our senses receive then surely there was going to be a vast quantities of inputs that our senses would receive from our environment. To sift through these inputs would be the job of our mind and it came to traditional pass that if we could define this "matter" then we were all in control of our lives.
The "matter" that gave inputs to our senses and hence made our thoughts dependent on was largely emotionless and probably connected to the cosmos. In line with whatever the rest of the world thought, the Cosmos is much larger than what seems like the sum of two numbers, it is frequently thought to be inaccessible and yet at the right moment there is a tell tale sign that leaves us mighty befuddled.
"I saw a shooting star last night, it trailed a glorious blaze across the skyline, a tiny wisp of a star with a blazing tail, it was a lovely sight," I said trying to hint that all creativity, as it was a information received from our senses, was Cosmos's creation.
"It must have been a wonderful sight," she said now moving away from the art magazine.
"I walked across to the balcony for a tiny fraction of seconds, must have been like 15 of them, and there it was riding right across the sky."
"What timing ?" she said equally unsure what she was supposed to say, thoughts and especially philosophical ones are not easy to answer back to.
"I was amazed too, if I had been 5 seconds either side of the clock, I would have missed it."
"There must have been a reason to why you were there on the terrace at that point in time."
"I have been wondering about it ever since, was I meant to see it, at that point in time, was I specifically called by the Cosmos to behold this wonder and I distinctly remember it was 4 am in the morning," I had this questioning tone but found no answers forthcoming, "Sometimes we see things because we are meant to at a certain point in time in our life cycle."
"The standard deviation from say an art magazine to a research on the Cosmos are two different topics aren't they."
"The purists or classics as I have often called them think only rationally and therefore they never get past their dogmas and the theorems, to them life is a formula, either you have it or you don't."
"So what am I ?" she asked equally involved in the conversation, I had always thought of her as an artist caught up in the corporate entity, often it is thought that is the normal thing to be working in a corporate and be stuck with jobs that we don't want to do.
"Do you like your job ?"
"Not too much," she replied casually.
"Then don't stick to it, if you have the courage, leave it and walk out to a new world that is your creation, where your creativity defines who you are, however you do need the job, then stick with it and stop cribbing about the bosses and the colleagues and the work culture," I said rapidly, after all it wasn't a question of whether Anjali was a classical or romantic bent of mind, it was important for her to figure out what she was doing with her life.
She was stunned to hear me talk like this and for a moment I thought I had said the wrong, she recovered her composure and continued to browse through the magazine. To soothen the blow I spoke softly now, "I left the corporate world some 4 years back and never looked back, its been a tough ride discovering what I have wanted to do but here I am today, just happy."
"I want to be happy too."
"Then follow your heart and the Cosmos will hear you and connect you to its source, there are things waiting to happen and open up as you take up what your heart beckons you to do."
"To Learn Who Rules Over You, Simply Learn Who You Are Not Allowed To Criticise."
The train was rocking, it was probably the tracks, they were old and the clatter was keeping the passengers quiet, the attendant walked in with a tray full of fruit juice, there was apple, banana and orange, I kinda preferred the mixed juice but they didn't have it, so I picked up the orange juice for myself and an apple for Anjali. It was tangy and sweet but there was nothing about it that made up for the pieces of oranges that floated in the drink, it was sweet and soothing for the mind, it had the flavor of large wine drink in the mid summer afternoon, and my mind started to drift to earlier conversations.
"The wine glasses in the art magazine, they look fantastic."
"Any idea how they are made ?" I asked equally curious about what she had read.
"They say that the wine glasses are smoldered through a cauldron and the smoke is felt through the glass to give it shape."
"Isn't that the best possible way to make things work ?"
"I was thinking maybe it is rational to think of questioning the established authority glass making," she said mockingly.
"That seems to be alright assumption."
"So what if I put the melted glass through a pot of sand and leveraged the pieces to get the ideal mix out of everything, see the melted glass would create very creative art pieces and then these could be cooled down in cauldron of water to give them solid shape," she said thinking, obviously she had done a lot of thinking while I had been designing my computer system.
All thought came from our senses and our senses received these inputs from some "matter" as yet undefined in my head, so if all our actions were a matter of the information that our senses receive then surely there was going to be a vast quantities of inputs that our senses would receive from our environment. To sift through these inputs would be the job of our mind and it came to traditional pass that if we could define this "matter" then we were all in control of our lives.
The "matter" that gave inputs to our senses and hence made our thoughts dependent on was largely emotionless and probably connected to the cosmos. In line with whatever the rest of the world thought, the Cosmos is much larger than what seems like the sum of two numbers, it is frequently thought to be inaccessible and yet at the right moment there is a tell tale sign that leaves us mighty befuddled.
"I saw a shooting star last night, it trailed a glorious blaze across the skyline, a tiny wisp of a star with a blazing tail, it was a lovely sight," I said trying to hint that all creativity, as it was a information received from our senses, was Cosmos's creation.
"It must have been a wonderful sight," she said now moving away from the art magazine.
"I walked across to the balcony for a tiny fraction of seconds, must have been like 15 of them, and there it was riding right across the sky."
"What timing ?" she said equally unsure what she was supposed to say, thoughts and especially philosophical ones are not easy to answer back to.
"I was amazed too, if I had been 5 seconds either side of the clock, I would have missed it."
"There must have been a reason to why you were there on the terrace at that point in time."
"I have been wondering about it ever since, was I meant to see it, at that point in time, was I specifically called by the Cosmos to behold this wonder and I distinctly remember it was 4 am in the morning," I had this questioning tone but found no answers forthcoming, "Sometimes we see things because we are meant to at a certain point in time in our life cycle."
"The standard deviation from say an art magazine to a research on the Cosmos are two different topics aren't they."
"The purists or classics as I have often called them think only rationally and therefore they never get past their dogmas and the theorems, to them life is a formula, either you have it or you don't."
"So what am I ?" she asked equally involved in the conversation, I had always thought of her as an artist caught up in the corporate entity, often it is thought that is the normal thing to be working in a corporate and be stuck with jobs that we don't want to do.
"Do you like your job ?"
"Not too much," she replied casually.
"Then don't stick to it, if you have the courage, leave it and walk out to a new world that is your creation, where your creativity defines who you are, however you do need the job, then stick with it and stop cribbing about the bosses and the colleagues and the work culture," I said rapidly, after all it wasn't a question of whether Anjali was a classical or romantic bent of mind, it was important for her to figure out what she was doing with her life.
She was stunned to hear me talk like this and for a moment I thought I had said the wrong, she recovered her composure and continued to browse through the magazine. To soothen the blow I spoke softly now, "I left the corporate world some 4 years back and never looked back, its been a tough ride discovering what I have wanted to do but here I am today, just happy."
"I want to be happy too."
"Then follow your heart and the Cosmos will hear you and connect you to its source, there are things waiting to happen and open up as you take up what your heart beckons you to do."
"To Learn Who Rules Over You, Simply Learn Who You Are Not Allowed To Criticise."
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