Skip to main content

I want to talk about love

I am so bored at this point that I want to write about love. Yes, that thing we discuss all the time. Love is the most craved object on earth after food. You give them shelter, bless them with food and then they go out to seek love. Love exists everywhere - in human beings, in plants and animals. It makes our lives more meaningful. Imagine a life without love. Would you like to just live and live, without feeling anything for your own particular self? At the same time, would you just like to live for your own self? It is apparent that we are surrounded by many other living objects. What if they didn't care for us? So we end up seeking those that care for us. And we spread love. We love water, we love the air we breathe in, we love our soil, the fire we cook food with and everything else. You know what I mean, don't you? All those things that help us love ourselves even more? And we love money. Without money, existence is futile. This feeling of love and care for everything around us is more deeply rooted in some of us that have learned to value ourselves much more than others. And it is this part of our human population that is more conscious, more aware of love. They learn to love more than others, they view problems and go out to tackle them. They love themselves, and they love themselves to be a part of this world. So they tackle all problems that they are faced with. And in the process, we evolve. Love is a beautiful evolutionary mechanism. Without love we cannot evolve. When we learn to love ourselves, we optimize our efforts. We get smarter by the hour.

I wrote all of it as a kid for an extempore competition, I think when I was 11. Years later I picked up remains of that paper carefully sheltered in one of my many folders that I have preserved. And this short speech had won me the first prize and a lot of appreciation from my Principal, I think. Let's talk about love again. 
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Material Musings

At a Flower Store As we travel into time, we bead our little moments and they hookup to form a garland that engulfs us completely when time stops, the fragrance continues however. Whether it smells of dry hay or lilac, we render through our Karma. In a Boat on a River Picture yourself in a boat on a river with your beloved, as you hold the oars in your hands. You want to hold her but if you do, you lose control of the oars. What would you do? You don't drown, the waters are still. It's a river afterall. Save a little for yourself. Our passions grow on us, time doesn't. On my Way Back Home Others expect at work, but my home demands. If I were to size down demands, would others' expectations out of me lower equally? We belong to our homes as much as homes belong to us! On Country, Geographical Barriers and More If God created Oceans to curb the intensity of the Sun, would landlocked countries be left to punish in Hell? God created Divide, so we may...
1 comment
Read more

10,000 Years: Going Home Alive

Gold, silver and purple streaks of light, Strike my chest and rebound, all so bright, I am traveling home finally, far far away, As I wade across the galaxy called Milky Way. I was once a little piece of dot, A shelter in a cold galactic place I'd sought, Among Neptune, Pluto and Jupiter, I found this Earth, to be the most near. I am done with my worldly duties, Sometimes a son, at other times a sister, At times an angel and rarely a sinister, Today as I am released of my worldly ties, I am no longer indebted to the aborning sunrise. My journey so far has been fruitless, The day I split, I knew I'd become worthless, Somehow I knew I had to live through it all, Tasks they all came, big or small. Still deep down inside, there was loneliness, Although in the world, there was vast openness, In the early stages, I assumed a blacksmith or cobbler, Towards the end, I became a generous struggler. When the time had come to clear off my karma, Since I ha...
1 comment
Read more

My Saddest Tale, Ever So Pale

Every year in the month of March,  I'd bring home, a bagful of books and the scent of familiar starch,  Once I'd masked with plastic sheet, I'd sense my heart beat,  As labels and stickers would summarize my yearly feat.  A burst of energy swiveled across my body,  In a few days, I was to become a scholarly somebody.  Samuel Adams and Christopher Columbus,  They may all wait, with them would Oedipus.  With what I read back then,  I would mostly outperform my peers,  Now as I begin to write, I sit amidst a cesspool of tears. Very soon you will, dear readers if any, Be introduced to a gargantuan globe hinged by many. During later years at crossing vectors and dotting differential equations, My History, Geography and Economics, floated across vesting nations. I drew the world map, this time I was twenty four, Sat with a histogram and outlined to each its own score. That's when I found my country, pleading for ...
3 comments
Read more