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Writer's pictureMadhusudan

A fistful of sand


Ever tried taking sand in your fist and making an effort to not let it go ? Harder I tried to stop it, faster it slipped by, leaving marks on my palm. But if I just let it go, it would caress my hand, leaving behind a feeling of acceptance.

Nothing in this life is forever, everything came to go, everything leaves. Be it object, person, emotion or life.

“Like all this will pass too” is a powerful Sutra which I try to remind myself, again and again. To submit to it, leaves a feeling of universal acceptance, to restrain is what creates the void, the emptiness in soul.

We human beings, love this void, we love this pain and thus keep causing to ourselves. Like a dog who doesn’t know the taste of the bone he is chewing. The sharp bone causes his mouth to bleed, and in an illusion, dog loves the taste of it thinking it is from the bone.

This pain, this illusion, this suffering is what makes us human. No matter what we believe , we’ll always try to hold that sand, clutch to our loved ones, secure our possessions…

because may be deep down we know, our time here is limited, so we desperately want it all…because in the end nothing remains….

In nothingness today

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