Beyond indifference

June 30, 2009 § 16 Comments

Evanescences -the grin of happiness .
Yet beyond the smile there does lie ,
Tales of sleepless nights and endless fights.
Brawls with oneself ,as if the image in the mirror ,
Was afraid of what it saw in reality .

Some sort of truce ,
Even though the parties refuse ,
Is reached . Lest the wakeful
Hours be all too flee bitten by the scorn
Of the impatient self – impertinent .

Moments of madness ,
The bizarre gesticulation of reverberations ,
Endless syllogisms to accept life as if bound –
Painting the mind as a knave, who is chained by fate-
So that the misdemeanor of man’s whims
Can by buried , in a colloquy of ad libbing .

Yet something does ring ,
The cords of human ingenuity ,
The urge to break free,
See beyond the tainted tree
Of illusively constructed postulates
(The blasphemous baits)
And see the truth – still alive ,
As it is in the venerable roots .

Gravity maybe unseen,
But upon the ground we lean,
The feet do feel , the seal
Of some grave connotation,
The power of a greater imagination .

If being bound is an ambiguity ,
Then to break free a felicity .
The joy of appraising
The truth , the ego less divinity ,
The knowledge of belonging to infinity.

If only indifference could be smut ,
So that , it could be ignored like dust
Upon a windowsill ,cleaned with a cloth
Every now and then , when
A party is about to descend .

Yet its presence daunts and drapes
Into our very jovial spirits
And forces contradictions
To become an addiction .
By the presence of such negations ,
The mind loses its calm serenity
And hustles and bustles ,
In hope of finding a serendipity –

As if miracles can be whipped out of nothing ,
As if the Ether was detached from the weather
Of the stars and the galactic wars ;
Yet in the indifferent, the indifference seems
To take up a perch and poison the self
To divulge and indulge in its inaction-
A devilish penance .

For all that , belief is the quintessence –
the belief in yourself , in the waves
Of self trust , where you believe
That the light shines the brightest .
Where the path of ego less divinity ,
Leads to understanding of this transient Mortality
And the gory of indifference and its capacity .

The indifferent blows a conch
As if the final wars of the world
Were to begin at this new dawn .
Yet the glories of the understanding
And the sun’s first light ,
Kills away the plague within
Just like the dusk rays smother
The nonchalance of the day
And brightens the moon for a night
Filled with a serene , calm life .

The camphorous smile amalgamates
Into a deep deep profound joy ,
The belonging bound with understanding
causes the mind to feel the zest ,
The acceptance of life and the rest .

Mad moments ,capricious deeds –
Finally a epiphany to bring heed
To the one always known ,
The song of the one soul .

The light shines the brightest

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The bakers

June 21, 2009 § 9 Comments

Once upon a time long , long ago ,
There was a baker who was known
For her bakes – which would melt
And disappear down throats
As fast as yeast could grow .

And as she grew old ,
She told her children the recipes
All made fine and woven ,
Created during many hours under the oven .
They all did hear her out –
Some more dexterous at the gateau ,
Others better at just making the right dough .

Yet there were a few ,
Who though heard all that the others knew ,
Who couldn’t spread butter on bread ,
Who were all fed to a starved death .

On one fine day , as the sun rose ,
The children were all on their own .
And so with there skills all set and perfect ,
The walked through the countries parks
And chose their shops ,
To spread love through their bakes .
A few boisterous mixed their flour
And added their eggs and yeast ,
Gave the world numerous feasts .

They took understudies to whom the taught
The skills , even as their coffers never stood still .
But those who could bake none ,
Lost their homes and had to run
From those they borrowed
And those they caused many a bad turn .

A few of such , idled about
(And that too all wrong )
And then the day came ,
When it was time to split
The estate of the one who was long gone .

With pens filled with liquor madness ,
They claimed that their siblings were unjust .
The harangued that their misfortunes
Were because the others were too good!
Pity , oh! pity the others felt ,
They thought that , at least their brothers’ kids
Would be better! So with their hearts
Filled with love , they wrote a decree,
Saying that the house shall be
Made of so much from the unfortunate’s
family , only so that they learn
And some day on their own earn .

Soon time’s ropes petered on those
And they left their bakery to their kin .
The kin inherited the dough
And so their demand never saw a trough .
All the while , the unskilled’s kids
Grew fatter under the provision
Provided and seeing success
Grew avaricious and claimed
That all this was through their pain!

A fight ensued and those successful
refused . They pointed out that
The bums had refused to learn
And that money cannot be earned
Without skill or working under the oven .
In a rage , the law book was brought out
And soon by popular vote , amended –
So that the unskilled got the majority’s share-
The rest just had to bare
These fat pigs who no more fitted
Into their own chairs!

In anger a few left ,
Others held that soon shall all be right ,
That under someone they will , together fight .
Soon that wonderful fresh bread smell grew ,
Longer became the queue.
The money came in and yet those
Who made them with honesty ,
Love and diligence ,
Lost their voice in the parliament!

One day a huge cake was made
It was for a festival’s sake .
The majority drunk in their inactivity
Got a big knife and cut in
For themselves and their kin .
And soon the pieces were
So many, Nothing was left
For the bakers
The actual makers .

For a while , they tried to reason
With their comrades and then
Realized with aghast
That lost was their cause!
Infuriated and cheated ,
They set out with bag and baggage ,
Landed in a better place
And baked a larger cake and ate
With grace , voraciously , singing
Praise to the new beginning .

Soon the old place ,
Ran out of money and food ,
Bickering , the people
First killed their kin ,
Then pealed their own skin
And finally lost everything !

A few survived , something
By nature , by blood had survived
Innate in them and in desperation something
Had come alive . The new of an old kind ,
Wanted to restore the past glory –
Though their memory was pretty foggy
With all that passed on being glossy .

One day , they called a baker home
And befriended him . They promised
To work together and to restore
Their pride . So the newly formed pride
Set about , the dough was bought
And the yeast all ready to dwell ,
But just before the first day’s bake ,
Someone found out the old constitution
And called the baker a traitor ,
Oh! he was no friend –
In vengeance into the oven
Went the baker
And baked forever was the bakery !

Pity , majority , democracy , atrocity
Ultimately a big big hypocrisy –
For that you eat , you gluttons
call God , yet the “makers
Are traitors” – so you say ,
Someday , someday ,not so far away ,
You will loose your way
And then wonder whose mistake it was .

You would then say ,
It was the man who decided to bake ,
Forgetting that , that was what made
You a big fat swine , Or maybe
You are right , you deserve less ,
Maybe a whip is a better harness!

The memories of the bakery
Were long after found –
After the bakers cult was tainted
And then erased to the ground .
The invading forces were butchers
And hogs were their specialty –
Enjoyed by the whole of (remaining) humanity!

Acceptance

June 15, 2009 § 9 Comments

A burst of happiness ,
A breath filled with reverence.
The hour of acceptance ,
The world ceases to be a menace
And belonging a definite- to the sense .

Yet the acceptance is not of defeat ,
But of the understanding the ability .
For all the known worlds , the stars
Exist and emit through dawn and day ,
Hid only by the scorching sun , rainy storms
And dreams filled with sleep .

Those dreams do make a world ,
Where in the days are spent
Watching the brain run away ,
Watching our actions make and create;
Our love breaking the walls of courtesy sakes.

Alive those dreams do come ,
Our actions inseparable from our virtues,
Throwing light to the hues of the dispersion .
At the sight of such shades , our vanity
Covered ego sheds the skin and exposes
The true face of the self –
Understanding of the light , its forms ,
Right-wrong , love-hate , ways of fate .

That we write destiny is the truth ,
That we abide by that prophecy is true too –
The makers of it we are and never are we bound
By that , for it is destiny that we do write ,
For the metaphor is to fill the spaces
Left by ignorance and knowledge is the scintillation
That the metaphor emits when it feels light .

Rise and fall of the emotions ,
The verses of anger and penance ,
The thought of those fears and
The speculation – all end when
We understand the beauty
Of the palpable world .

Yet that is that much ,
That unknown which we try to see
Fails to fit into our heads and thus feel
An ultimate peace . There is something
Beyond everything . If not for one ,
There is no infinity , If not for the thought ,
There is no belonging and life .

Ultimately acceptance comes from within –
When we know , we no more need
Those words of praise or the harsh
Words of a conceited being , when we
Feel at peace with the dreams –
When the world whispers tales ,
When the destiny follows the trails ,
When the pains feel themselves
And when illusions know their reflections .

Finally a breath of happiness ,
Some how there is some sense ,
Belief in yourself and confidence ,
Belonging is transient ,
Existence of one is permanent ,
Illusions remain in perception ,
Clarity the sight of the first star ,
The end – when no one is at war.

The light shines the brightest

Clouds , mountains , valleys and buildings

June 10, 2009 § 11 Comments

Another hot tourist spot in Ooty is Doddabetta .

Amazing scenery is not free any more , the count your heads , eating bajji and drinking tea , as if you are a terrorist who is trying to blow the country up , by not paying Rs 5 or 10 whatever it is per head ( I forgot to mention , the same is true for the flowers , they charge Rs.30 for the camera in the gardens and I am pround to say I shot enough to get me value for money ūüėÄ , don’t get it why they need to charge for cameras , cameras don’t dirty , they tell the truth , if there is garbage , then the photo won’t look good – forget charging for the cameras , encourage them and you might see the amount of littering going down ) .

Anyway considering we didn’t go any where off beat ,as this was more for us clearing our city-ed heads , this is what happens .. But at least the telescope view was free – they showed me a cross and claimed that to be a military hospital in Coonoor , for all I know that could have been a cleverly made mark on the other side of the telescope .

From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip
From ooty trip

That just about covers every angle you can see from there , see I told you , it is just a view and nothing else , but well a thing of beauty if forever ( well something else is forever as well – Chennai and this stupid climate , sweaty! Hot! ) .

Once I had a dream that I was a bird

May 24, 2009 § 21 Comments

From new camera1

Once I had a dream that I was a bird .

The world was below me and the world watched me . I was a crow , who flew over the high horizon of the city . Many saw me as a scavenger but within they all longed for what I could do , roam the skies . Yet there is this urge within which I want to fulfill , which humans have already part done – fly beyond this rushing ether. As I see the moon rise ,even as the sun goes down ( to visit my cousins across the enigmatic sky ) my heart beats with pangs of pain , the suffering caused by the urge , the need to touch the impalpable( that moon and those distant stars) , if only to know that the world is tangible.

 

From new camera1

I see across the terraces , many with their aims set , they bicker with the certainity of security ¬†. And yet as time wans and nothing but the pale moon night throws shadows about , people become afraid and train their senses to the bright lights of their race’s creation . They never seem to think about the man who thought of those lights . The light shines the brightest , but the light is the substance , the sign but not the source itself . Even as it represents the origin , it is nothing but an extension. Maybe to us crows and birds the light is a sign of a ¬†reflex glory , felt every time it strikes our senses . It shows that one day the divinity within will purge us and start the movement towards the unseen worlds .

Maybe it already has in me . Never have we seen anything but the dawn , followed by the day , succeeded by a dusk and left incomplete by a pensive night , peaceful  with a joyous melancholy . Maybe there is something greater in the universe , where in the trinities of belonging, i.e. instinct , person and thought are the mere stepping stones to  enter into the castes in the skies . Or maybe there is nothing , but I need to see to believe . And sight can be the most prejudiced of all senses , yet at least it garuntees that there is something .

If only we can see beyond the zenith , if only our existence was enriched by thoughts beyond the stars which invite and inspire and reinvent the sense of belonging .

The sound of life woke me . Yet the world spoke to me . The vibrations of my thoughts left me to feel that I was in level with the stars and that which is not truly palpable is the one which is beyond. There is something beyond everything . The truth is the means to an end – yet what is the truth?

Random

April 28, 2009 § 14 Comments

Yup I have concluded the world needs a damn good spanking . Not because I have become older than a million year old fossil or as old as the sea by listening to all the very knowledgeable and very young senior citizens or my lecturers or teachers or whatever in my class but more so ¬†becuase nothing seems to a make sense. Actually I might have become old , maybe that is why I haven’t written anything for so long . It would have been so nice to call this a ‘ come back post ‘ but i didn’t go anywhere.¬†

Here we are after so many years of Independence and funnily enough no one cares about the thing which the country needs -education . Instead we have a whole bunch of nonsense like people claiming that they can bring back some money stashed away in a Swiss bank . Oh! ya what happened to reservations ? Why hasn’t anyone used that yet? Is it because it is out of fashion ?¬†

Or maybe we are so screwed , that we are now going to talk about our neighbouring countries . NO I am not saying we should close our eyes , but how cheap is it trying to profit as the cost of someone else ? And while talking about reservations , I think the only people now discriminated are the creamy layer and the ¬†‘upper castes’ . So how about that thing called equality ? I thought you want to be a super power ? ¬†

Well forget it . . The NEWS channels call it the IPL( they say the Indian political league , I call it Indian Pooruki League ) and well cricket sucks anyway .

People are egoistic . Now this Ego is the screwed up thing which everyone calls ego . No my fine readers I am not becoming a human , though this dust allergy makes me sound like a Egyptian Mummy speaking Malayalam . 

See when did I start ranting ? I want to watch Noddy . Not that I saw it when I was a kid . We used to get only DD then (see I can tell that too , I am old ) . But well if you leave me , I might watch teletubbies right now . And my rant isn’t constrained to this alone , it goes on and on …Infact I didn’t want to write anything , wanted to write something pretty , which will get me ¬†comments such as “you didn’t put a full stop” or “you used too many smileys” , but then I don’t really care . If I haven’t read your blog in a while don’t tell me . It probably has too much of politics . I have read a few damn good posts , not writing about them because don’t feel like giving the links .¬†

I hope this reveals how lazy I can get . I got that domain for the fun of it . Now ¬†I have 59 subscribers here , hope this increases , because I am damn materialistic and the fact that I can’t have my therapy now (retail therapy) irritates me more .¬†

So before I start into a mile long rant…TC… nothing funny , if you have read till this better comment . And I am not going to add lots of tags , I am bored . Going to go and watch the clouds.

Ego and divinity

April 18, 2009 § 17 Comments

Upon a peaceful ocean ,
A thought did rise . 
That thought did move
Within the worlds , as a screw
Would into a wooden hollow . 

As judgements were passed , 
And prejudices concluded ,
To all but a few the truth
Eluded . Virtues and vices
Are relatives at war , 
Divided by a single wall . 
On either of that does lie
A way – somewhere , infinity
They do meet and there 
Contradictions nay exist . 
Yet till that point there does
Seem , a world at a brawl ,
Within itself always ready 
To start a fire at the scent of smoke .

Forces greater than the container
Are contained , by the sheer inept
Of those contained to recognize
A frail misnomer . The forces so contained
Do pray to the within to discover
A better lens to notice the
Venomous drops , the poison .

And once the mind does locate
Where it seems the simple twist
Of fate seems to be placed ,
It does try to frame a case
Of revolution , an air of arrogance ,
The charm of ego and deliberation.

The ego is a way to feel the abyss
And not that which we pit against those
As wise . The ego is a virtue to protect
And feel all those below earthly morality .
The ego is to break the walls of discrimination .
And that ego is a screen drawn  not to
Close love but to open the eyes of justice.

The only justice is poetic
And as each action churns a reaction ,
The world watches with concentration
And tries to balance with a fervor , a penchant
Soaked in a universal beauty ,
The song of which brings a deja vu
And belonging becomes de rigueur
For every creature .

At such a stark moment , the ego
Becomes a wall upon which you do
Stand and observe the obsessed world .
As a prophet to the mortal , the immortal
Sires the world and becomes the inner star ,
Set at a spot , showing direction ,
The venerated divine , the harbinger
To the future , the holder of the keys
To completion of an ultimatum .

With such a serene posture ,
The hand and the paper become
One . As one weaves through the other ,
That which is drawn breaks the beauty
Of stillness and the mesmerizing silence
Only to carve a beatitude beyond
The revealed rites of revered veneration –
The ode to world through perception.

And on such paper and as the hand
Becomes the mouth that disturbs the air ,
The thoughts on the ocean form
A known citation , seen within
And calm the diligent ego to mere strength .

As towers upon an unseen base ,
You do stand and watch the height
Of the sea , knowing that written
On the shore sand is temporary .
Yet that penned into memory ,
Is the message , to be visited
Again and again , in time’s rein ,
To establish the threads ,
To relight the blown fire
And rekindle the presence .

Everything is an illusion .
And so let the world be .
yet within each sketched ,
Does lie a world , the creativity
Of another illusion – reality
Mounted idealism , The final
curve to the straight column ,
The finesse of mind’s design .
And as the illusion’s illusion ,
Takes strength from its perceiver ,
The creator , it does add a tantamount
Code to the encore of the world .

Yet a while it does take
For another to conquer
The imagination and rise
The almost moribund ,
A final twitch before disappearance
And cause agitation in
The being’s bosom .

At such a moment ,
The negations seem to add up ,
All in whole and almost real
And thought aware ,
Such is the nature
That the being allows
Th virus to infect ,
If only not to let the world
Be poisoned.

And such and such is called divine
By plenty and worth a merry hail
But they do fail , they fail,
To see that it is not scarifies
And the ego’s penance ,
But that it is a discovery
To thrall the abyss by
The sheer resistance of life –
The strength of the wall
We do sit upon , the power
Of that which sits on the wall
And the stars whose lights do connect
The world by illuminating the world .

If not for anti , the ego has no existence .
If not for fear and guilt ,
The world would not be built
As it is but would have been formed
By the hands of creation –
The procreation of thoughts upon
Thoughts , the pro evolution
Of mud into bricks , of dusk
Into a dawn , memoir
Of man’s visage when he
Did see that he was free
To contemplate the way to the stars
And to carve a transient image on the shore
And letting the ocean the one to hide
That which is at the other side of sky’s brink .

The soul of life is divinity .
The beauty of movements ,
The culture of souls to choose ,
The ability to be alive .
Divinity is the way we feel ,
Divinity is the veracity .
And that truth which it represents ,
Is a means to an end .

At a solvent moment ,
The ego dissolves .
The viruses are none .
The illusions float below
And the world is a calm proposition.
Life seems to be drenched
In itself. The containers break ,
The Pandora box is overridden
As the world feels the hands’
Alacrity to be itself .

Life is life .
The world is alive .
Everything is an illusion
And we live in our perception .
Veracity and its integrity
Are the natural scales which we adhere
And as the notes of a song
Whatever pitch we breath
And ours heart’s beat
The love we feel
Will set us free .
For revolution is action
Where we reveal to ourselves
What we are , the action
Which frees us from the ordinary
And makes us to be the divinity .

Love is a essence ,
The flavour to let out the strings
And understand the world .
Love is the soul’s delight ,
For it is the fire of the fight .

As the world comes back alive
And the waves do eat the sketch
And reality is set alight ,
We do feel we belong ,
To this , that which is a metaphor
To our life , that which hides
From our sight , that we seek
For lending a meaning to life .

The joy of ego less superiority ,
The joy of divinity .
The God you are is what you will be ,
The God the world is ,
What you want it to be .
The God ultimately ,
Is the God that has to be .

Truth is not the end
But the means to an end.

 

The light shines the brightest

Sometimes you just smile

April 14, 2009 § 12 Comments

Sometimes you just smile
And there nothing can hide .
Sometimes you just see 
And the sight sets you free .
From the depth of the sky,
To the height of the seas,
The world is what it is meant to be –
From the jiggle of set chimes,
To the babbled nursery rhymes,
From the chirp of a bird,
To the early morn crimson skirt,
The world is what it is meant to be , 
Always there to set you free.

Touch of nature ,
Touch of humanity,
You do feel , that skies are roamed
And that all you see is owned,
That the breeze from the sea , 
Is meant to push you to see , 
Those trees who do sway far at peace .

In the beget of all rhapsodies,
One in the sky does merge
And within does emerge ,
A world on the verge ,
Of a smile and it does purge
As the smile sets alive.

Sometimes you just smile
And there nothing can hide .
Sometimes you just see
And the sight sets you free.

The light shines the brightest

half past eight

April 13, 2009 § 12 Comments

From new camera1

Sometimes you just smile,

And there nothing can hide .

Sometimes you just see 

And the sight sets you free .

 

He lay on his bed wondering what is going on around him . Sometimes things just seem too good to be real . Having his phone buzzing , people wanting to talk to him made him feel happy . But some how , he couldn’t stop looking at where he was all those years back . Time is a funny thing . As you grow older , you keep changing . Things which mattered to you a while back don’t . You see your self in the mirror and try to think back ,what you felt when you saw into it a few months back . You smile at how you felt .

He smiled . But some how he couldn’t accept certain things . He wished this was not a dream . Funny how for a person who kept living in his dreams , he wished this was not a dream . What people never understand is that , what is just a remark by a stranger for someone might mean the world to others and that it can hurt . Yet if you ever spoke about how certain things affected you , people become sarcastic and pass more comments . But by now you have learnt so wouldn’t really care about any of it .

Pain seems a burden when it is physical but it is torture when it is mental . He smiled into the mirror again . Ha made a few funny faces at himself and laughed . He turned and jumped about as if he was a kid . That is what is fun , trying to connect to things by trying to feel the world within . The passion with which you try to understand things around you . The innocent tenacity . He started to sing . It didn’t matter to him , that he was a horrible singer , he just enjoyed doing it .

All though time might catch up soon , he knew he could always play with himself , the child within him .It doesn’t matter what walls are erected , it doesn’t matter what they are made up of . What does matter is the fact that you know you can bring them down when you want to ,not because you have to but because you want to…It was half past eight , he left for the party with a big smile.¬†

 

A comment

April 10, 2009 § 6 Comments

I have been off politics and anything to do with it for a while .Simple because I can afford a shoe right now and maybe afford to even throw it (things look like a luxury only till you can’t afford them) .But still there are a few posts which draw you to read on(very very few bloggers have that ability) and so this post. ¬†The reason for me not eating anything political is because I have had ¬†too much of masala – ¬†by nature my teeth are sweet(no they are not made of candy or gold :P){and get it I am making fun of things [people now days!]} so just don’t want to trouble my senses.

As I mentioned there are a few who just draw you into reading and this particular post is a very good read especially for a fellow who loves history ( how much do I love it? Enough to ask doubts in a history class) .

Here is the post – Pseudo Secularism and Congress. And this was my comment to it:-

I do not know. Simple right? But what you and me say doesn’t matter…you see kids are thought to say all Indians are my brothers and sisters…then where does it go wrong? It doesn’t matter who are the people we keep pointing fingers at ,for they will keep coming . By doing that we are not identifying Mr.Satan himself but only lending a face to him and once we burn/he burns us at a stake,we just go back to where ever for a while, nodding our heads as if its all done . I have repeated it over and over , the biggest mistake in this country is that the people with quality have now been discriminated and the country handed over to people ___________ .

And the old bus thing too . You and me write just to appease ourselves . No more and no less. Why don’t people like you or me take to being the Hero? is that we can’t ? No, we know the way people behave. I was sent out of class today ,when I hadn’t done anything wrong .The fellow in question was just yappin yappin without give us time to think , I stopped tried to think and then when I missed what he was saying looked into my neighbour’s book and he sent us out. But thats the gist of what is happening , if you try to think , they send you out.We have to learn and go on…for it is about us and not them…

Of course to a few , my comment may seem from another world and not ¬†looking at the reality . All I can say is , I haven’t seen that reality and so I cannot talk about that . The place where I live is relatively peaceful for the people here have better things to do ( Or at least I hope so) . To actually think of people killing each other in the name of religion , I can’t . But I have seen instances where it is the audacity of a few people which leads to some tension building up . One thing I hope I always would remember would be that

arrogant are those who are ignorant
Tenacious are those who are diligent .

Anyway I don’t think I will be posting about politics as such , even though it seems to be everywhere. I personally think that there isn’t much use talking too much, we need to get into doing . Someone ,pointed out to me that changes are always happening . True. While we cannot change things but are mere catalysts , we need to remember to play our part properly . By looking at each other , no one is going to take the onus .

The “bus thing” which I mentioned above is this :-

The country is a bus and a person whom we all feel is not a good driver is driving . We have two options one to get out of the bus or take over the wheels . So in a way I have decided to get out of the bus for a while , so I am going to shut up and not talk about it . Without full information we cannot judge what is happening . We are but seeing those things which a few people want us to see and hear what a few people want us to hear . We need to dig deep and try to evaluate after we know enough .

To sum it up , religion was started for something and now is being used for something else . Personally I take God to be a metaphor(read this poem Рa metaphor called God and this one too РGod ) so I cannot understand why people should fight so much . We are on Earth to live and not survive .Using that thing up there , we have created a world for ourselves ,why instead of enjoying do we bicker and try to make it all worse for each other?

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