The Juggler

A friend asked me once, “of all the circus acts, which one do you rate the best”.

My answer was simple, my answer was quick.

“The juggler, my friend is the one I admire the most.”

He shot another question in my direction. “If that is your best, can I know on what logic was your answer based?”

I answered with calmness, taking pleasure in the explanation.

“My friend, the juggler is not from my family. I do not take pity when I call him the best”.

“My assessment lies not on the superfluous but on the merit of his act it does rest.”

“Does not his act remind you of life, and it’s true essence, birth and death. What is certain, we call birth. But, death is uncertain.”

“The juggler is Maya, among the balls, there are birth and death.”

“Jugglery is a play, like life is but a play. A play of the mind, my friend.”

I am not a philosopher. I am not a bard. I do not sing, nor do I preach. But, the logic behind my choice is what I made clear.

You may agree with me or we may agree to disagree. Whatever you may think is of no concern, in the same way, as my thoughts do not matter to others.

With these words, let us part. And, never do you show me your face again.

What is death

What is death? What is death? This question keeps ringing inside my head.

Is it a hideous monster or the princess of my dreams?

This question twists my head, keeps me perplexed.

At nights it keeps me awake, and in the day it makes me a daydreamer.

The question has me obsessed, the question makes me mad. Can someone solve this puzzle for me?

Or will I have to wait till my hour of death to know the answer.

The answer eludes me, maybe because it is a two-faced monster. Or is it the God Janus personified?

Is it a sword-wielding monster or is it an angel with the golden key?

The wise man tells me, “Nothing is absolute. And so is it with death.”

“Death in itself is neither a demon, nor an angel.” The form, he says is in the eyes of the beholder.

“O deluded human being, wake up from this slumber. Realize today that soul is but a circle. A circle it is, with its center inside the mortal frame of flesh.”

“Death is neither a friend nor your foe. It does it’s duty as ever before. Death does nothing except shifting this center from one mortal figure to another.”

“So, rise up my sons. Know this today, this frame is but a shroud. Underneath it hides the immortal. All souls are immortal but few are also divine.”

So, tells us the wise man, “Do not be mere human beings, be righteous ones because the souls of the righteous are immortal and divine”.