Why is that we need fixed answers for everything? Why this need to compartmentalize things, emotions and people. Why are we so uneasy with unknown? Why is known so dear? All the chaos in the world is due to our need to find a reason for everything and to assign every living and non-living thing a value. We are born and we die with a belief that we have to find an explanation for all that is and for all that will be whereas in actual Knowledge corrupts. It does. It poisons the soul. It leads to a fake believe that we are in total control not only of ourselves but our surroundings whereas in reality we are merely a tiny little cell in the body of this cosmos. There is a lot that still needs explaining and not everything can be explained. Not everything needs an explaining.

Each of us needs to feel important, valued and superior and we will find a reason to explain why only we should be privileged. Why is that we deserve better in life than others. Faulty explanation it will be in all cases. It has to be faulty as there is no explanation of an event that will leave all the people involved satisfied. Who is wrong then?

Fortunate birth, gender, superior religion, country, better opportunities in life- we go on proving to others and to mislead our own selves on one or more of these accounts. A rich man feels he is superior, he has seen the world better for he has had more exposure; he knows what the rag in a hut can never know. His fortunate birth is making him believe he knows better. He takes pride in his fancy degree, big house and civilized life. The rag in a hut pities the rich man in the car for he has never dealt with real problems. He knows what hardships are whereas the rich man only goes around talking at a superficial level. His life remains its same luxurious self irrespective of rising inflation. The rag takes pride in his suffering. The man in the west condemns the eastern counterparts for the lack of rational mind and for his superstitious beliefs; the man in the east ridicules the white skin for being devoid of a mystic heart and for having lost the connection with his soul. The men blame women for their shallow minds; the women accuse men for their shallow hearts.

The point I am trying to make is everyone, each one of us in order to make our life easy, build notions that are far from reality. We have to be sure. We need something to believe in. That something is what will define our lives making as rigid by each day, making us less flexible. The moment we assign a character, a trait, good or bad to something, that very moment we kill the scope for creativity, the scope for change; that very moment we have created a chapter in the book of life, a chapter we can quickly refer to when the need arises. What we call ideals; morals are nothing but ways to capture our creativity, the ways to keep us away from being united with the universe of which we are a part. Only when we will follow our intuitions and our heart without relying on the ready-made truths, only when we will take a plunge into the unknown without fear and with hope, only when we will take more pleasure in discovery than in history, then can we free ourselves of all our problems.

I am very certain the world will take care of itself if each one of us can remain an unpainted canvas forever. There is no need for experience to define us. Let each experience come and go without leaving its imprints. Let’s wake up totally blank each day, unfazed by past and without a care for future, and then will be the life a joy ride. There will be compromises, definitely, but we are not making any less compromise in our daily lives anyway and our problems are erect still. Let’s remain without knowledge that makes us haughty and egoistic and that prevents us from being compassionate.
Now in the style of Neruda, I’ll count up to twelve and we will all be sans knowledge and experience.

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