Sunday, December 02, 2007

Nobody cares including me.

I often ask myself this question. What is the purpose of my life? Why am i here on this earth. If I am here What difference will it make. What difference i am going make on people. If I don't have any purpose Why am i here?

Its is really not a philosophical type or something which we read in self help books. It is an question which should be asked and the answer would be the answer of your life. It really becomes blurry sometimes and even some times we have crazy purposes in life. I have a purpose in life to get fat. Many other people of my age are having diffenrent purposes, like to get a job, to get a girl friend, to get married.

These are small purposes, getting married, getting job and all. There is a big picture behind these purposes, which very few people see. If che guevera would have gone home after traveling the whole south america. The world would not have seen the cuban revolution. What if MK Gandhi would have decided that he practiced law in Bombay instead to going to south africa. We would have missed him surely. He would have been just another lawyer in the Bombay High Court. These people saw the big picture and grabbed it.

Even tough I write so many big things about these people. I am going to end up like any other Indian of my generation. I am going to end up having a job in some MNC and then someday will migrate to some other country in search of good money and better job. Fuck the world and fuck the purpose of life. I got the answer of life. As if i care changing the world. Nobody cares including me.

1 comment:

Gauri said...

Nice....a diferent perpective to finding the answer to the famous question.....Why are we here?

Here's something that can be counted as an answer......

O ME! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the
foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I,
and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the
struggle ever renew'd,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see
around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me
intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring-What good amid these, O me,
O life?

Answer.
That you are here-that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

----------Walt Whitman--------

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