A Cautiously Random liFe


How could life be as random as fate? Or as random as a coincidence, as random as someone’s last breath, as random as love, as random as a childhood memory and just as random as a good hunch. Has it all been weaved into an organized structuring pattern where one step leads to another or is it like a game of a miss and an out or a take and about? Do you hit the jumping blue ball of your chance to escape out of one failure in this chaos or you hit the red one and land into another fashion of hoo-ha turbulence? Or you get to go for the peaceful white one, sneak away some time-out for silent speculation into the intensity of matters at hand and decide your next position at front with a kick start?

You know you’re doing, the best that you can. Isn’t good enough sometimes, disappointing! It don’t have to be because its okay. You know that and its good enough. Don’t you think ? There is a bit lot of hope in every flake of air that touches your bare skin, passing you from the side, looking back at you making a curve of an invisible smile on the lonely road you’re walking on while stumbling towards the end. The way is getting far ahead and this unseen army of your subconscious resilience has been at your back desperate. Picking up all the treasures rolling back as you throw them away thinking how similar it is to sweeping off dust from your book shelf and getting rid of your long lived possessions in your room that lost their true purpose as they saw you growing up and taking baby steps forward into crossing ambivalent thresholds. But the things that pull you away from worthless glory are the things that pull you towards your true self.

I’m not sure if it’s the chaos or those stepping stones, but it sure as hell is a paradox. No one here seems to be having the handful of cheat codes to a flawless life. But there’s this randomness. The randomness of a caring gesture from an old lady on the tube to get your spirits up for the rest of the day, or the randomness of a dog coming to your rescue for a pat on his head in the middle of the recess on a bad school day, it could be your extinct odds against the randomness of getting a raging emotional text from your life long crush finally confessing her feelings for you, when you’re only about 3minutes to having an overdramatic breakdown at the dinner table about how successful you are at being unsuccessful in your little life.

These darling little emotions of glorious intensities take us back a few steps, to catch up before we burn ourselves in untamed flames. This life guarding randomness makes up for the most deplorable things in my life. It mustn’t come as a surprise but it surely would. And it will keep you from growing afar too much from yourself.

 

Jane Eyre – Rebellion in ways


jane eyre

Chapter 12- The double quoted passage because I couldn’t have described it any better than how Charlotte Bronte puts it in the description of Jane Eyre’s feelings wanting to explore a more wide chunk of the world. Being a woman , it is an accessible amount of suffering to experience and its all purely primitive. Sharp from the times visible in the book ,proto-feminism is orignally being carried out yet today. The novel surely must be considered ahead of its time.

“-that then i longed for a power of vision which might overpass the limit; which might reach the busy world,towns , regions full of life I had heard of but never seen-that then I desired more of practical experience than i possessed ; more of intercourse with my mind, of acquaintance with variety of character ,than was here within my reach. I valued what was good in Mrs. Fairfax, and what was good in Adele; but i believed in the existence of other and more vivid kinds of goodness, and what i believed in I wished to behold.”

” It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody knows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment in the masses of life which people earth. Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts, as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. It is thoughtless to condemn them, or laugh at them, if they seek to do more or learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for their sex.”

Their are rebellions in world stock-still in all female skin , the flames yet to fall on deary proscriptions meant for women till now.

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