Death Note of an Insignificant flesh!

I have never technically struggled…(for the essentials). But such are the times that every little unconventional work that one does these days, tendency gathers to seek out gratification from people around us. And in fact, there will be people to establish that false sense of achievement by lauding the effort traditionally using the words – “at least you have been able to do this…” Thus every time I started to look at some of my accomplishments – be it materialistic or artistic – I could not help but wonder and compare with all those men and women who would have struggled harder, toiled more throughout the day and night and even during the sleep in between, who would have tirelessly pursued their goals and ambitions, and would have fought a far greater battle with destiny to turn the tide in their favor – to be where they are,  just to have at the end  in equivalent measures what I have. I couldn’t then help but ask myself – am I still worth the privileges I enjoyed or received.

Yes, there have been moments where I could not resist praising myself in performing or pursuing some of the most reticent of tasks that in today’s world a digitalized citizen generally doesn’t follow. I would have often pat on my back for executing some of the seemingly difficult activities effortlessly balancing (as people around me would refer to) two lives – executing tasks that are traditionally labeled as fortes of feminine class and is unfathomable for some moustache bearing men of my age. Yet, every now and then I get hit by a boulder of another homo sapien – who would have just done that little bit more to belittle my own sense of egoistic happiness.

How even after claiming to submit myself to artistic virtues I could not resist from the glamour-seeking vices? How even after standing up for the ethical I would have succumbed to the corruption of the material world? I wish I could stop myself from this torment.

It could have helped, had the world around me conspired in my pursuit of a Gautaman journey. But wouldn’t the world then had become a Utopian society – everyone living in their post-Nirvana phase. Again does it then mean I was stopped by environmental forces or these are mere excuses to have fallen for social pleasures. I then take a vow to put an end to this flesh and blood that could only derive its existence from other existential systems rather than drawing energy from the unity of soul. Is it then a death note that I have just composed? No, probably it is the automated script that runs in phases when the mind is overflowing due to the consumption of all available memory space and the heart is frantically trying to bring the mechanical me into senses.
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