Confessions of a MuddleHead

Har seenay mein ik subh-e qiyamat hai namodar

Afkar jawanoo k huay zeer-o- zabr kia...
                                                                                Iqbal

Just like Bertrand Russell, every morning proves to be ever more misleading for me, leaving night's work stranded in the void space. Tean, Mr. iqbal that's not the case with me. I am in trouble with my own inquiries. Others find themselves divided amongst themselves between passion and cold-blooded logic, I fail to exist in any domain, in any category. Because of no speciality. It happens, when the mould is not filled, it can only sound louder and not stand stable. But, its not without a paradox with me. The paradox is, on the other hand, when I come to focus on one subject, I shall be willing to get that one tree at the cost of whole forest, (my management guru put it that way)! 

But, what I yearn for, (sound like delusions of an idiot): inexorable, unchangeable ideas and theories. I wish to leap behind all thinkers that ever existed on this planet. I believe I can master every field of human thought, no matter how complex the subject be; no matter what level of understanding and limitations I have. I jump from one book to another, and so on until I am completely lost; until I have no idea where I stand.

I never had faith in movies that they can nosh you any healthy and practical idea. I thought they were those worms which feed on the ignorance of immature minds. To me they're all but unnatural, unreal. But I was wrong to some extent. Not every movie is like or was . 

It happened when I came to know that I never gave thought to geology, what Andy Duferene knew in the Shaw Shank Redemption. Andy knew geology: Andy knew that hardest rocks need time and pressure to turn into powder.

When I heard this from the movie, suddenly some past forgotten memory took birht from its own ashes. I remembered that once my mentor had pointed to reasons for my failure in having a clear visions of 'reality'. And, it all just flashed before my eyes for the pain in my stomach; perplexions that haunted me, which I could not settle; intuitions I couldn't crystallise - it was all for one reason. Lack of maturity! ("The term 'mature' denotes completeness in natural growth upto the next phase.") 

Philosophical maturity requires time, but unlike geology not pressure rather tolerance and liberal spirits of free inquiry. And, I can't deprive myself of rejotting here an advice that basic element of pilosophy is sabr (patience).

  Pensive Mood Giclee Print by Charles Lidderdale. Source.