The Art Of Questioning

Ever hit by a question of “Who am I”? From being a tiny part in our parent’s body to the formation of small gems of fluids. From being a weak fragile old man with barely some of the functionings happening in the body.

And then we are dying on the lap of the burned fury ashes of life, dissolving on the topsoil with nothing remaining but just a heap of sand and dust, immersing and reuniting with the Mother Earth.

Change is the mother of all nature

Who are we if not just a series of changes in our lives. There’s nothing, I mean nothing static about anything in this universe. 

Everything that we call life around us, are always in flux, changing so fast, moving so swiftly, evolving and dissolving with its accelerated speed.

Everything is temporary. Everything will eventually fade away

Does the mind see that? It has to, someday. You cant forever stay in illusion. 

We can’t be so busy seducing ourselves by the externalities of life, when everything we get at the end is just “a second’s rush”, with nothing left in our hands. 

Then, what do we call as me then? What is the very individual separate entity i.e. me? 

Cant, we question that? Cant, we question to ourselves? Let alone of being honest and truthful to others, can’t we be at least be true, absolutely honest and sane to one person, to ourselves?

Because it’s so obvious and evident to us that nothing remains forever, everything is but evolving, fleeting in-front of our eyes. 

Only Now is permanent.

And with all these mayhem and chaos that we are surrounded by, where is “time” in this? Where is the past, present, future, if only we have is “now” and only “now” with us? 

Past or future everything happens in now itself, in us.

Where is birth, where is death when everything is but change and change only.

Some of the fundamentals of life are so intriguing, fascinating and absorbing that if we just look at them with the lenses of the Reality and keep aside all of our Minds to judge and evaluate later.

 There has to be something which we call as “me”? Whom do we call as “me”? Whom do we call as “I”? 

Can’t we see that?

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