The world keeps moving.
When I say moving, I don’t mean revolving or rotating around something. I mean moving as in travelling in a linear path. And when I say so, it is only logical that everything associated with the world does.
Anything from the dust to sand to worms to birds to animals, everything does; and so do the sun, the planets and the whole cosmos – whatever you see and don’t, whatever you want to see and you don’t wish to either.
It is something like a very big bus journey, only the destination is still way too far for numbers to hold (in terms of any unit)!
In a way, for us, the world is the center of the universe – no matter what science may suggest.
When we are in a journey what’s more fun than having a riot? Play games, and when the bus is this big, we have so many to meet, so much to do; the limits of time are bound to be squashed by the mere dimensions of the bus!
So we end up playing games like, you know, birth, death and rebirth and travel from this planet to another, meet people, things, become things, try doing mundane things like speaking or writing to convey thoughts and sometimes don’t do anything at all, but just look out of the window and think of the travel and wonder who we are, why we are here and what to do in the future; we morons still associate time with ourselves and vice-versa, even when we’ve realized it is futile!
Then comes the intersting part of stickies… Like some of us decide to stick to another one, it could be anything from a plant to animals or even things. It is like being addicted to them. We don’t realize that we are travelling. That things which come close to us, things which we believe are a part of us tend to travel away.
Sometimes we become tired of the journey, of the games we play, that, like the curious creatures we are, we decide to alight from the bus and even have a look around, exploring the unknown. As if there is more to explore than the big bus! While those who were with us for quite sometime keep travelling. Of course we can get back in the bus at any point, it is not your regular one door limited stop bus you know. But we can never get back to where we alighted from, not even by searching for that place over and over again.
So knowing we can never get back to that place we decide it was just an illusion and decide to embark on the journey once again. We climb the stairs (ya something like a multi-deckered bus!), run amok here and there, shout, scream do whatever we want to before we decide on what to do next.
So where are we headed to? A holy place, a dumb playground or a tourist spot?! No idea, I am as much in doubt about this and as always eager to see what this place will look like if at all we arrive there.
We call all this life and it goes on…
The journey cannot be recollected and rejoiced; there are going to be no deja vu’s, as long as we are in this shell of ours. Its to be rejoiced and cherished by us just like any other traveller.
The bus is moving. Where are you now?