What is life?
I am listening to 'kandisa' by indian ocean. Looking at the stars, from in between thin wisps of clouds. An airliner passes by now and then, and I try to follow its trajectory from one end of the sky where I noticed it for the first time to the other end where I see it for the last time.
In front of me, the waves don't get tired trying to get beyong the sands. They want more, keep coming back to the shore as if something that lies on this side is a yearning they'll never get over with. These waves, in their endless pursuit, haven't they forgotten something.
I get reminded of the book, hitchiker's guide to the galaxy. The purpose, the very essence of it, in our lives.
What is life?
I ask again because the answer is very important. Is it to love and be loved? Is it achieving success in each of our very own definitions? Is it reaching our goal? Is it fulfilling some prophecy? Is it getting happy? Is it dedicating ones life for a cause, to a cause?
What is life?
I keep asking myself and I don't get a good enough answer. As the night grows, frequency of flights approaching chennai or crossing chennai airspace increase. So much so that I am seeing 3-4 flights at the same instance, at different speeds (which means different altitudes) and going or coming in different directions. Are people on those flights aware of the answer to my question?
What is life?
What will happen if I really found out the answer? Is it really what I am looking for? Why do I keep coming back to this question? Isn't it too big for a person like me, a lesser mortal, with no great purpose, no divine destiny?
What is life?
Time. It never stops. Life does. Is there a place where time stops? And life doesn't? Beyond the nonchalant waves, simmering along the horizon, all these ships that line up every night in the high seas just off the harbour limits, do they know a place where time stops?
What is life?
The airliners. They never stop. From all parts of the sky they appear as a tiny dot flashing, slowly and slowly they take shapes, more lights along the wings and bodies are visible, so that you can make out the nose, the belly, the tail, the wings, but never the windows, and the flashing continues, now in a pattern, unique for every aircraft in the world,I am told, till the time it again starts to fade, till the time the flashing is just a tiny dot far away in the skies, and blip its gone, forever.
What is life?
Something with a start, an end and something in between. Something.
What is life?
Are these signs...
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