A beautiful Sunday morning read.
The mind is a fantastic place. It is surprising people don't talk about it, share about it, think of it more often.
Even in the social media age of extroversion, we do not talk of our mental and physical experiences enough. Maybe we are scared of being labeled.
When I was thirteen, I shared an experience with my classmates. I wondered, what if the whole world were a setup. A stage. And I the main character. A prince being brought up in a foreign land. A planet created for the purpose of bringing him up.
Turns out, others had had the same experience. And there were ancient stories about it. We all laughed. It was over. An idea that had become an obsession for me, gone in a few minutes. I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't shared with my friends. As an adolescent, my world revolved around me. I was self obsessed. I imagined myself a genius, unique. What if I'd grown up still imagining that, until one day I watched the Truman Show or read THGTTG and it all dawned on me.
We were in Nainital when this discussion took place. One of the facilitators talked of entire monasteries waiting for the chosen one. A world built for a prince yet to be born. A reincarnation of the Buddha. Two years ago, I'd all but finalised a trip to Spiti, to visit such a place myself. The trip never happened. Twice an year, every year, I run into the Himalayas. Yet I never make it to the monasteries. Perhaps this year.
PS: I know I'm rambling. But you're the loser Facebooking on a Sunday morning.
The mind is a fantastic place. It is surprising people don't talk about it, share about it, think of it more often.
Even in the social media age of extroversion, we do not talk of our mental and physical experiences enough. Maybe we are scared of being labeled.
When I was thirteen, I shared an experience with my classmates. I wondered, what if the whole world were a setup. A stage. And I the main character. A prince being brought up in a foreign land. A planet created for the purpose of bringing him up.
Turns out, others had had the same experience. And there were ancient stories about it. We all laughed. It was over. An idea that had become an obsession for me, gone in a few minutes. I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't shared with my friends. As an adolescent, my world revolved around me. I was self obsessed. I imagined myself a genius, unique. What if I'd grown up still imagining that, until one day I watched the Truman Show or read THGTTG and it all dawned on me.
We were in Nainital when this discussion took place. One of the facilitators talked of entire monasteries waiting for the chosen one. A world built for a prince yet to be born. A reincarnation of the Buddha. Two years ago, I'd all but finalised a trip to Spiti, to visit such a place myself. The trip never happened. Twice an year, every year, I run into the Himalayas. Yet I never make it to the monasteries. Perhaps this year.
PS: I know I'm rambling. But you're the loser Facebooking on a Sunday morning.