Brushing teeth. Drinking a glass of water. Washing hands. Making a pot of soup. Life is made of small things like these. Isn’t it a pity to perform them mechanically, thinking of other things? To do them just because we have to do them? For most of my life, I went on doing these things … Continue reading About the Small Things
Sometimes I think too much. I don’t do it consciously. While my body is anchored in the physical reality of my surroundings, my thoughts cluster around something or someone like a squadron of flies and buzzes about it for hours on end. When I think too much, I am not quite myself. I dwell in … Continue reading On Not Thinking Too Much
If I had one wish (provided say by a wish-fulfilling genie), I would probably wish never to wish for anything. But to be alive means to wish for things, you may say. What sort of life would it be without any wishes in it? The life of an ascetic? Of a recluse? Of a socially … Continue reading If You Had One Wish…
boy with a hat 