Tuesday, July 29, 2014
I am not much on comparing. Each to its own, that's what I say.
Wife blames it on low empathy but I don't agree, it's more or less because I don't care. Different definition , same meaning...but I really don't care. You live your life and let me live mine.
But it doesn't work that way does it?
The beauty of the sand city is in its way of letting its ugliness be hidden...like its laborers who built it but remains the unseen, unsung heroes. It's easier that way for people like me, who by some unforeseen accident or birth defect cannot relate unless it comes from a source of experience. Even then it's from a source that's self serving. You tend to view from your own perspective and in that lies the virtue or curse, as you might deem it, this ability to be unaffected .
I don't care.
I see yet I don't feel. Thing is I don't think I am alone in this. The more I watch the game of life around me, the more I feel I belong. The only difference being that I say it and most don't. It doesn't make me elate since the easiest path is to admit to your follies and be unconcerned , than to recognize your follies and make a change. But hey, what's the hurry? We are comfortable in our little bubbles of make believe empathy and sympathy, that the need for acting upon it is never called upon us.
Life is good.
We can put a 'Like' on the Tibetan who burns himself to ashes for his freedom on the social media network, or run amok with our verbal diarrhea on female infanticide , rape, genocide, or any other cruelties that we deem deserves our opinion and we can make ourselves believe that we have played our part in changing the world .
Things are good for people like me. The arm chair problem solvers, who with the tip of their fingers can alert the world and make changes.
I rest my case.
But then I am the lowest rung in human evolution. I am the bottom feeder. I don't even believe in my own species. If it was up to me , we would have ended on December 21st 2012.
I was that guy who was rooting for the Mayans.
I don't understand.
I don't understand why in India we have those guys standing at the enterance of a mall, going through my bill of purchase and punching it before letting me out. What are they doing? What is the purpose? What do they hope to find.??
I don't understand. I have even asked that uniformed, security guy who gets to wear a uniform and pretend to be a cop what he is doing. He had no answer. He was required to look at the bill and punch it. I asked him if it is to deter shop lifting. He said maybe. So I asked him how will looking at a bill and punching it deter shop lifting, since you are not comparing my purchase with my bill. He nodded thoughtfully and looked at me sheepishly. I realized that I was questioning his purpose. That was not my intention but he emitted the vibes of an animal who is trapped , scared and ashamed. It changes the frequency of my energy and hits me at the base of my solar. It charges the emotion of guilt. I felt bad. I backed away. Thanked him for taking the time to explain it to me. I felt the vibes change.
I still didn't understand. Perhaps its to keep the guy busy. Give him something to do. To keep him engaged. Like that guy you find in the lift. You don't really need someone in the lift to press the buttons for you but yet, there he is.
Its like in India we create jobs so that people can earn; have a purpose. I am okay with that. Like those shadow people in stores whose only job is to follow you around. I get fazed by them. They make me very nervous.
What's their function?
I don't understand.