Aren't we all in search of something or the other everyday? Be it the next big sale (for Corporate biggies), or the next big sale ( for those who reap the theraputic benefits of a shopping splurge), or a tasty morsel, or a moment's peace, or of making that final leap before we decide that life is now neatly settled in an approved pattern and that we can finally sit back and enjoy it....aren't we all looking ahead and sighing?
I read some time ago that it is the selfish actions of man that makes the world go around...Ayn Rand nailed it...Do we ever do anything purely selfless? Aren't there motives behind our motives? And behind our lack of motives? And aren't we all in a rush to compare our achievements against the world's notion of success? To make sure that we aren't forgotten anytime soon?
If the recognition of this simple truth comes early on in life, does it make one a loser? Someone who didnot dream big? Someone who didnot exploit his true potential? Someone who never reached for the skies, just because he was happy in his little spot on the blue globe?
Or will he firmly close the door on that yearning to find his Imladris and rush head first into the rat-race? Is that practicality or is it just plain cowardice?
I know what my last homely home looks like, I can see every sinlge brick and leaf in it, but when will I have the courage to enter it?
I read some time ago that it is the selfish actions of man that makes the world go around...Ayn Rand nailed it...Do we ever do anything purely selfless? Aren't there motives behind our motives? And behind our lack of motives? And aren't we all in a rush to compare our achievements against the world's notion of success? To make sure that we aren't forgotten anytime soon?
When does man finally realize that he has done all he can? When is the line drawn? When do we turn towards the simpler things in life - peace, quiet, nature, love? When does man realize that all he wants is a hearth where he can be himself, where his worth is not measured by his achievements but just accepted for it actually is - all flaws acknowldeged, never being forced to fit into someone else's view of how he should be?
Or will he firmly close the door on that yearning to find his Imladris and rush head first into the rat-race? Is that practicality or is it just plain cowardice?
I know what my last homely home looks like, I can see every sinlge brick and leaf in it, but when will I have the courage to enter it?
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