Ah it's life...

More irrelevant than baby’s blabber, stupid causeless like actions of some toddler

Or meaningful predetermined and thoughtful, set of events leading to a destined outcome

Complex serpentine leading to nowhere, full of mirages where nothing is in real

Or simple straightforward and accurate, where arrow has no option other than hitting to its target

                 

Haphazard unpredictable and lawless, where every event is ruled by the chances

Or calculated strategic and formula driven, as if it’s created by some mathematician

Ah that’s life, a series of strange events, has no meaning but still sets the stage

The moment we think we’ve figured out the plot, everything changes to make us to feel lost…

Lost in a jungle, fierce and cruel, the only real emotion we might feel is a sense of competition

Angels may come, suddenly from nowhere, but we can’t be happy as they may not be real

Fickle volatile and superficial, some relations evaporate like oil floating on the river

Some are like the sky, always with us, no matter our location no matter the status

The sky may just be an illusion, picture of the past—a memory hitting to our vision

Vision of the mind might be accurate; the gut reaction only sometimes fails

Comedy tragedy thriller or mystery, jumping across the genre without any warning

A strange creation by some awful stubborn poet, ah that’s life, we can’t love or hate…

Covered with thorns or flowers or both, it’s a bizarre path to walk on

With Flowers capable of turning into thorns, and thorns capable of becoming our allies

Ambition focus work and efforts, may or may not bear the fruit of success

Sometimes just letting go is what that is required; sometimes it might hit the face

Sometimes faith saves the day; sometimes it’s the cause of death

Nihilists might just embrace some cause; devotees might get divorce from their god

Ah it’s life, maybe it’s not meant to make any sense; what surprises me most is the drive to sustain

Maybe it’s the hope forcing us to keep on turning pages; maybe it’s the curiosity for what’s next

Where it’s going, directed or flowing or is it stagnant this being my ultimate destiny…

I’m waiting to see, dreaming hoping and living, just as a main character of some awful poet’s script

the scientist in my mind

Hindsight is faulty, I remind myself, every time I find myself mulling over my past decisions and their outcomes... I'm not a very important person, thankfully, with many lives depending for their directions on what I do; but certainly, at least for some lives, for those lives whose I am a purpose of life, my decisions do matter, and so their outcomes. It wasn't an exam, there wasn't fear of failure, the only conditions were strong determination maybe reaching to the levels of stubbornness, a commitment of not leaving or not changing the pathway, of sticking to the decision and tolerating whatever the consequences might be, suffering everything without surrendering to the situation while keeping the morals alive breathing with unadulterated mind, while keeping inner desires alive and the passions burning—without suffocating because of lack of hope or chance or stimulus... Joy had left my mind a long ago, there wasn't fear of being devoid of it, there wasn't fear of pain—my mind always bathing in it; tolerating huge ugly surprises offered by the destiny, I used to think I couldn't be surprised any more. There wasn't expectation of someone understanding my situation, everyone including my loved one's judging the situation with their own viewpoints, distant, far away, far far away from me, and far away from my feelings.

I loved research, wanted to explore some questions in my mind, a chance to search for the answers, to check my viewpoints and the viewpoints mentioned in my books; tired of searching my answers in books of religion and philosophy and in my own uninhibited mind and in minds of others, I knew, to take me closer to the truth science was my ultimate option. Every voyage in ocean of science for exploring the answers introduced me to a new set of unsolved questions, burning, calling my attention, waiting to be solved, so interesting that I could spend years living on their Iceland... it was like some addiction, like some drug, some hallucinogen or stimulant bathing my neurons, making me to forget my identity, it was my joy—capable of killing me without making me to feel bad for my lost life.

Life isn't just a journey of adventures in some fantastic ocean, the destiny wanted to teach me, with mundane deserts and banal landscapes occupying some of its span, life is something more than just a burning desire. Typhoons came, or tsunamis, or black outs... I got lost, living my life, trying to keep my wish alive, trying to survive in pure 'no science land', mute, as shouting was not allowed.

It was a world of mark oriented students, and teachers teaching nothing but how to gain marks... I, stunned, stunted, suffocating tried my hard to pass this zombie zone, but blind, as there wasn't light, landed into something more horrible, into a world of profit and loss, money seeking people, immoral, corrupted, harmful and even threatening to life and career if their demands left unfulfilled... I was by law forced to spend one year of my life in this managerial branch in area studded with toxic people, or people made toxic by the situation, by the filth of lack of knowledge and lack of desire for getting knowledge, the only desire they had was money, and ways of getting more money, science wasn't in their lives close to their list of joys, mocking me, harassing me for what a dumb strange alien creature I was... for my loved ones it was period of honour, for I was a medical officer—a gazetted officer and a doctor with a staff of more than thirty working under my supervision; for me it was a dark period with me struggling to get out of my intellectual and emotional coma, crying when alone, always counting the remaining days of my bond period.  

Days passed, months went away, years passed, and here I find myself, alive, striving again near my starting point. More than a decade has passed in my efforts, and here I am, still trying, stubborn, with increased passion, and with a bunch of certificates, some money and a degree allowing me to write a prefix 'Dr.' before my name and a license to practice medicine, some nightmares, dull dark memories, some scars, some unhealable wounds on mind, some altered beliefs, lots of pain, unbridgeable loneliness, but stronger, tougher, more informed, and aware that I still can be surprised... It feels good to be conscious again. Maybe Phoenix isn't just a myth, maybe it's a symbol of the scientist in my mind.