last night came that feeling again. i had spoke my mind out to some stranger calling me up for something a day back. she had stirred my passions for life again by asking what will you be doing if you are not in journalism.
``filming,'' i had said without winking.
``Wow!'' was her reply.
i am not sure if i ever will be able to do filming. it has been a life long passion, like literature. i have very little knowledge of both. i feel these are two of the most interesting things in life, sex apart. these professions required an observant mind sojourning in solitude to tell stories to people of the simpler, smaller and beautiful worlds around us, poetically and philosophically _ the endangered.
the journalistic life is more of an emtiness or about efforts on a daily basis to fill the empty spaces. very rarely, the mind reaches out into its own empty spaces to discover the beauty of self, or rather selflessnes. journalism has turned more selfish than societish.
with my wife, tired from working all day, and the little princess, tired of playing all day, sleeping by the side, that feeling came back. for long i have resisted and to say the truth, i had forgotten that feeling for years, till it returned a month ago.
it visited the mind last night also. that feeling of what will happen to me. from where i came and where am i going. the feeling thats there in all of us, in the deep crevices of the mind, supreme, visiting time and again, at intervals depending on the urge to know the truth.
for long i have left truth to live alone and in peace by not trying to think about it or trace its origins or the present status. somehow, truth has a liking to me and loves to play the hide and seek game. it was doin the same last night too.
while i was not keen about my origins, what was i before. i definitely was not there. somehow i am here. a being. a living creature. living. living. living. with all my senses and feelings, from the sexual instinct to the desire to enlarge my heart and love the whole world. i feel happy.
the sadness comes when, i, with a sense of stiffness, thought what will happen to me. perhaps, i should have more children. then there will be few more people to remember even after death, the only absolute one can ever get to, with the mind, even if it it happens to be the supreme. but can i give them comfort while living. may be thats why i am satisified with my girls. they will think of me, then and now, till they live.