How much longer

How much longer, before the lesson is learnt,

twice bitten, twice stung, twice burnt,

not naive anymore, the ruse only goes so far

how'd you play with fire and not expect a scar?

Conflicted Minds

There is a fundamental conflict in my thinking. Something I know is shared by a few of my friends (Actually, very few with whom I discuss such stuff). The conflict is between the two different sides of the thought process and their different needs.

On one side is the social self. The self that defines itself relative to others, as an outcome of social-conditioning. The self that thrives on being respected, appreciated, admired, accepted ... needed by others. The self that competes with others, wants to be better than others (Mating instincts? :) ). Y (The other party to this discussion) would rather call it the biological self. The society, he argues, is the sum total of a billion biological instincts. May be.

The other side is the abstract self. The self that yearns for the absolute and the pure. Something that is not decided by people but exists eternally. Like, may be, what this guy finds in some really abstract piece of math. Or some find in God. Or some find in a painting. It exists and is beautiful without any care for another person's judgement.

These needs are at odds with each other. An achievement for the abstract side does not satisfy the social side. The discontent remains. Conversely, the abstract self actually detests the social side. It detests the very desire to be recognized, it detests the pleasure from being appreciated. In the pure world, these things should have no effect.

But they both exist in me (:( ), like two misbehaved constantly-quarreling kids. Just as I realized this.. Y came up with this very cheesy line.. "It's a duality. Like the quantum duality. If it works for the world, it should work for us."

Hmm. That seems correct. The answer is an equilibrium. Recognize both exist. Let them co-exist. Stop the fight. Stealing a picture from a talk by a professor I really like....

Broken Glass

Strange are the ways,

of shattered glass,

better left broken at times,

than held, in hurting caress.

But we hold no grudge,

we yield to reason,

it was not the day,

just was not the season.

But it isn't our failing,

that we obey our heart,

that the meaning in our eyes,

forked wide apart.

But can scattered pieces,

and but a spoonful of glue,

bear the drops again,

and stop the spew?

The day may never come,

or maybe isn't yet here,

when we dare blow at dust,

settled deep on a crusted tear.

Strange are the ways,

of shattered glass,

better left broken?

than held, in hurting caress?

Hmm

There is a lot in life I associate with dogs. I could say my first friend was a dog. The kinds that don't mind when you pull their ears and wake them up... just because you are bored. (Only to pay it back on the Sunday morning when you don't have to wake up early for school.)

My first brush with death was a dog. He went out one day and never made it back... too much enthusiasm for his own good. Not unlike Marley of Marley & Me. Why do I rant about this now? I just finished watching that movie. There are these words at the end,
"A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water log stick will do just fine. A dog doesn't care if your rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he'll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary?"

Someone once called me someone's dog. Whatever the context, if only I could be that pure...