It was evening. I was taking off my clothes looking at the river tungabhadra. I was imagining the moment my body will touch her water. My feet, my thigh, my abdomen started had started forgiving heat when he started telling me about the origin of the oldest living civilisation, India.
Draw a perfect circle. Use a compass or a plotter. Now, zoom in. If you zoom in close enough, you’ll discover that it’s not a perfect circle at all. In fact, anything we create, at close enough magnification, isn’t perfect. It’s foolish to wait until you’ve made something that’s perfect, because you never will. The alternative is to continue to move toward your imaginary ideal, shipping as you iterate. Getter better is the path to better.
Ruts don’t dig themselves. Most of the time, we’re in a rut because that’s precisely where we put ourselves. Actions become habits, and habits get repeated because they feel safe. The easiest way to make things more interesting is to simply stop repeating your habitual behavior. And that often comes from reacting to triggers. Remove the triggers and you can alter the habits. Tiny changes. Different ways to keep score. Tomorrow comes daily. But we don’t have to take the same route to get there.
The world has long gone past finding comfort for humans. Comfort seems secondary. They might only say it has only started. Facebook and Google will leave no stone unturned to get even the last human trying to hide in his cave to get connected with the world. The momentum of the world trade and news constantly travelling is like making too much noise standing. Iam certain now that the race is not to find god but to become formless while living. One can argue, we are our own god and only us can stop ourselves from doing or not doing. In doing they might have exceeded their own expectations but every achievement is not the end of the story. The story keeps becoming. It is neverending. It merely adds another layer of truth, another variation of the result. How ever much our minds become digital, we are still a long way to forget our mothers.