Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Sign

hmm…has anybody missed me?

To be honest...I was not busy…I had plenty of time to write…to contemplate…to compose my words but I was least interested in writing anything.

I don’t know whether it was just my will not to write or not to share what I feel…hmm…whatever it was I read a lot instead…

There I find few books worth recommending…few writers inspired me deeply…

Its amazing when you are reading something and come to a page where it suddenly start talking YOU…and the writer no longer remain the different person...the writer becomes you....it is such a nice feeling somewhere deep inside your heart you sighed and said to yourself…I am not the only one feeling that…hmm...

It makes your day…and I found out that I do not read to find answers or to become wise…or to become more compassionate…I read because I want to know that I am not the only one experiencing…feeling...what I am experiencing and feeling…I am not alone.

Somewhere…someone was living my life (had my life) and s/he was good in words and wrote every bit of it.

It gives me hope…faith…hmm…

So here I am sharing one of the latest book I read of Karen Blixen, Out of Africa…

It’s an autobiography of Karen Blixen and revolves around her stay in Africa where she had a farm near Ngong Hills.

The whole book was worth reading but the last few chapters when she has to sell her farm to move back to Europe were sensitive enough to read again and again.

Though her and my conditions are different she was selling her farm and I have nothing to sell…but the situation was same…the place which she chooses to be her HOME was slipping out of her hands and she could not do anything to stop it…the life she loved…but forced to change and how she wrote about it…was brilliant.

So here is a little excerpt from the book…

“I lay in bed and thought of the events of the last months. I tried to understand what it really was that had happened. It seemed to me that I have, in some way, got out of the normal course of human existence, into a maelstrom where I ought never to have been.

Where ever I walked, the ground fell away under me, and the stars fell from the sky. I thought of the poem about Ragnarok, in which this fall of the stars is described, and of the verses about the dwarfs who sigh deeply in their caves in the mountains, and die from fear.

All this could not be, I thought, just a coincidence of circumstances, what people call a run of bad luck, but there must be some central principle within it. If I could find it, it would save me, if I looked in the right place.

I reflected the coherence of things might become clear to me. I must, I thought, get up and look for a sign.

Many people think it an unreasonable thing, to be looking for a sign. This is because of the fact that it takes a particular state of mind to be able to do so, and not many people have ever found themselves in such state.”

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