breathing out slowly... letting go.

to feel heavy and light at the same time..

It was about the time when reports began to be confirmed that the plane had been shot down, with 298 people and children inside, because of a conflict unrelated to the people on board, that i thought to myself 'I don't want to live in this world anymore'.

It is a world where people kill each other, where massacre and injustice happen because of what when scaled down to its simplest form is the evil within people - ego, pride, greed. It is a world where 298 people go on a commercial flight for a holiday or to come home, and are shot down because of  A MISTAKE. 298 people, a plane caught in a case of MISTAKEN IDENTITY. they were not part of a war. there was not even any reason or motive behind the shooter's actions. nothing they wanted to achieve. 298 people died for an arbitrary, meaningless incident.

It was about this time when I realised nothing matters. If nothing makes sense, nothing matters. The last remnants of my belief that 'things happen for a reason' is gone with the understanding that there is no reason in what happened, no reason that brought them there. and if i were to say there is a reason for things to happen in MY life, some pattern of stars that have been written for my future, then I am saying that those on the plane had to be on that plane to die for some reason. but i cannot say that. there is no reason.

nothing matters, then. nothing really means anything. all life is about is for me to struggle out my existence, for my own sake so that I MAY BE REDEEMED. so that when all is done, i am found on the right side of light and darkness. that i am found on the right side of eternity. All life is about this- about making my own life worth its existence, FOR MY OWN SAKE. no changing the world, no real impact. i need to act and work in a way that my living will redeem my self, and my loved ones with me.

The path life takes us...

Its curious how the dots connect in our lives. A seemingly blank future, in the sense that nothing yet exists and there is no telling what can happen, other than the sketches we etch out of what (we think) we want - our plans. Plans of work, of marriage, of a place to live - minute plans like what to have for dinner or bigger plans like to write a book. None of it exists other than by imaginations in our minds. We dream of making them true, and we dream of the 'happiness' that comes along with it. We dream of 'having arrived'.

But what actually happens, happens arbitrarily. Shaped by the million forces that are outside our control. And it is curious, how these seemingly arbitrary incidences shape our lives. If I hadn't showed up for that interview, I would never have met you. If I had taken the scholarship as I sometimes regret not doing, I wouldn't have been looking for a job and set up that interview. If I weren't driving and listening to the radio at the exact time you were on, I would never have heard of you or your work. I wouldn't be anticipating a life of being alone, wrapped up in love for you, wondering at the possibility of one day adopting and raising a child without a man, having failed to muster any love for someone else comparable to the force our arbitrary steps has led us to.

And yet, by principle of the same arbitrary pattern, anything can happen. And we can be judged only in history.

There is, then, no need for fear. No need for worry.
There is need only to BE - to grow our hearts into a strong, discerning torch that allows us to live fully and love truly.

Today they found some chocolate sticks in my bag. I bought it earlier because I was feeling lousy and sick, and thought I needed a sweet snack to keep myself going. This time, he asked me if he could take it. I said...its mine...because I really did feel like I sorta need it..and I said you can take one but I need the rest.  In hindsight I don't know why it was such a big deal...maybe automatic response to rightaway reject because they always try to take things they see. He left with it to help me put my bags on my table. I went back to the table and it wasn't there. They took all of it, I thought. Oh well, I thought...at least this time he asked. I thought back to the times he took my stuff without asking. And the times he seemed to take it lightly when I talked to him about it. At least he asked this time, I thought. That's progress .

It wasn't until layer when I was about to leave for the day that I saw it...The box of chocolate sticks, in my bag. They left it back there after all.

...

I've been thinking I should journal our journey together, me and him, Sasi. I first had him last year, 2013 in my remove class. He was so difficult, maybe my most.difficult student at first. Couldn't sit still. Ran around. Head of pack he led the others to disruption. Loud.

Maybe about four or five months into the year, he stole my blue tac and chewed on it. I had to ask him to spit it in my hand. I was out of my wits with him.

Once I talked to him at the balcony.  Then I realised his bm or English was poor....A lot of times it was that he couldn't understand or communicate with me more than anything. I asked him about his background. ..His father had died, about a month before. He was real then, I could see the sad in his eyes. It was then he became to me a human, not just an annoying kid.

I noticed how he liked drawing,  colouring. He became much better towards the end of the year.

Somewhere mid year I trusted him and he took my token gifts...silly little key chains that were meant for them anyway. I thought incredulously. ...why would you.steal something that we meant for you in the first place? Word got out and he got caned for it, and his friends.

I took them bowling,  then to read at my house. McDonald's for him for the first time. First time I saw his home. I thought. ...This is the epitome of the student we had joined to serve. Capable,  smart, with potential...but underprivileged.  Lacking opportunities.

He was one of the 8 in class who got the minimum 20 I set on the mid term paper...A difficult paper. I took them to KFC. ..frost. time for him. He asked for three pieces of chicken and only ate one. A few days later I asked him if he went home and ate the other two. He gave it to his mom. I knew it.

Sasikumar is the reason why I will stay texting next year.  I don't want our friendship to end.