Life Cycle

Cycles rule life out here. Thats the big tragedy. All the same things just keep coming back semester after semester. And all the big plans and promises and resolutions before every sem just to see them washed away in tides of weary laziness, rejected by a mind sickened of the routine. If you think I am bitter about the cycles, you got it. Its hard not to be, especially when you haven't got one, and the sun beats mercilessly down on your already-burnt skin, and when its evening, the rains take their turn at it.

Another sem. And all the baggage with it. Through with the excitement of room-shifting and registration. Chaos reigned after that. Strange that students have to tell deptts that they are running short on subjects. Still not sorted out. Guess it will be soon enough though. And the classes from tomorrow. OMG.

Strange how days of introspection can drain you out. Almost weird to think of everything you build dreams with and then watch them tumble down, torn down like those waves do to the sandcastles. Annihilated, all traces of existence removed. And just carry on as we were, numbed. Perhaps its just that we are automatons of a higher order.

It defeats comprehension that there should be objects that one would, at some point of time, have given his life for, and at another point of time, simply behave as though it never existed. But, then, isn't that what we call maturity??

I am not yet certain that idealism is a curse, but it is difficult to ignore the viewpoints that created people like the Gail Wynands. And it is little better than a tragedy that we fail to concentrate minds in single minded pursuits. I agree that to be a Howard Roark is senseless, but I wonder if it might not be happier. Sadly, the parameters of judgement, as they exist, are hardly equipped to serve their purpose for they do little more than spit out an inhuman array of statistics. For those wondering where all this is suddenly coming from, the whole string of thought was stimulated by a book I just happened to flip through this summer. Forced to agree with St. Antoine de Exupery in "the little prince" who chides adults for their fascination with facts and figures.
Wonder if it isn't time that we stop this spoonfeeding that has grown into so integral a part of our systems, steer ourselves beyond all this cycles, keep things simple as they should be, and realize that its our faith that determines our identities; that its time we created our own and stood up for them.


"Beauty is truth, and truth beauty,
That is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."