I sit again pondering at that century old question of why. Why? Why are we here? Why are we at the behest of our circumstances? Why are certain events not in our control? Why is that we do not know the purpose? And the more I ponder… the more it multiplies. That question of why.
Every day brings a new why. Every thought multiplies that why into many more small small whys. Its like there is never an end to it. Like a vicious cycle that didn’t have an exit strategy. Like a story with no ending. Just page after page of the same question over and over again: Why?
I cannot answer why I still have anger inside me.
I cannot answer why I have reached the point I am at and why I had to take the path that I did.
I cannot answer why all that has happened in the 28 years of my life has happened.
I cannot answer why.
Even if I try going beyond my own existence this question follows. Why is that we have become immune to the hungry kid of age 4-5 who sleeps on the sidewalks? Why is that we don’t feel any pain (Humane pain) at the fact that he will probably never taste the joy and beauty of being a child..of being innocent. Why we are more concerned with what we are lead to believe than that which we should actually believe even when we know it.
Why can’t problems which have solutions in place actually be solved? Why can’t we ever get someone sincere enough to run this country? Why?
Why are we so scared to face our own emotions? Why do we give up and try to hide behind a blockade meant to keep them out?
Why do we exist? Why do we live? Why are we the life which has been bestowed upon this world?
Why can’t we learn to co-exist? Respect each other’s beliefs. Why don’t we follow our dreams and if some of us do then why do most of us give up on it? Why are we satisfied with that 9-5 job which invokes no passion and takes up the largest chunk of our lives?
No answers… just more questions.