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Saturday, 10 January 2009

Who decides?

Only now, on the other end of their happiness, I seek to depart from the old ways; in doing so leave some disturbance behind, writhing and moving ever so eerily to empty out a defined space only to see another hopeful get sucked in.

There isn't much I read in such judgements. All my life, with every thought, I have seen them take their own course. Easy, isn't it, to analyse everything right down to the last detail. Conscious decisions, all taken by the same brain, lead you. So, what's new you may ask? The way life unfolds leaves but little tags behind. And no judgement, made howsoever efficiently, follows the trails. In hindsight, and such a pleasure hindsight is, it all makes sense - to go back and think, to look far and think, to not think but feel - it all leads to just one question. Would it have been such anyway?

A mosquito came and sat on my arm and lay there a long time. I wondered if I should take the life out of it and perhaps waited for a reason to do so, it being a mosquito, strangely, didn't seem fair, but no pain came at all. A rare moment of deviation could have let it be there but it stayed and lived. But, again, in hindsight I think I chose the better option.

From all the faces in the crowd I picked one. I wouldn't know if it was the best for a long time. As it turned out, it wasn't even close.    

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