A few days ago I was reading about the “Ship of Theseus”, also known as the “Theseus Paradox”. It’s a thought experiment about identity, asking whether an object remains the same if all of its original components are replaced over time.
I am currently on a digital fasting, trying to minimise my consumption of content over internet. But I have to be here for work, and to learn things I care about. Even though I am not on any social media, some of the nonsense happening in the society still reaches me indirectly. It’s incredibly hard to be connected to internet and avoid consuming nonsense. And this is not going to change anytime soon, unfortunately.
One habit that reflects a disturbing trait among parents is treating their adult children as pets rather than independent individuals. They get themselves involved in every detail of their lives, from belief systems and food habits to even marriage decisions. Such controlling behavior is likely to have a deep impact on adult children’s emotional well-being and autonomy.
Life can be a bit of a jigsaw puzzle, right? Lately, I’ve been feeling this desire for a different kind of puzzle—one that isn’t as cluttered and chaotic. It’s like this invisible weight, a pressure cooker of expectations, and a rulebook that seems to be written in a language I’m struggling to decode.
Mountains and clouds as well as ocean and waves, both are the true marvels around.
Unlike the ocean, the mountains push you to move forward.
The steep rise frightens you at times,
but every step forward makes your experiences and thoughts grow.
On the lands of the andamans, sitting on a remote beach.
A kid playing with the sand caught my attention.
I am on a ship, at the center of the sea.
All I see is water, it’s all around me.
I always want to be with you.
Yet I am leaving you all alone.
I won’t tell you the reason.
But I know you will understand.
She is sitting on the window of a paradise.
Looking down at the tiny moving wheels.
Wondering if she could ever be free to ride.
Instead of just being hauled behind.
I know you are long gone.
I know you won’t come along.
I know I have been there too long.
I know you have got your groove on.
But tell me, do we ever really move on?
Or it’s just the mask we put on?