Each night I think of meditating to come out of the egg. I am told there is
a limitless and a timeless paradise waiting to welcome me outside. But then a
worrisome thought flashes, what would happen to Mr. S K Jain's cosy little white
& yellow world? How on earth could I just walk out of a life which promises
me the wealth of Bill Gates and fame of a Michael Jackson or an Amitabh Bachchan; and all that fun that I have with my family and friends. How could I just disown
the name and fame associated with me. Despite all of limitations and woes here I can't
think of a life beyond this shell. I can't see the beginning or an end of this
shell. For me, this is my infinite and only world. Somebody tells me once I come
out I will have wings and will be able to fly and I would be able to lay eggs
and create universe for creatures like me myself. What rubbish! I don't really
believe it. I am comfortable here
Slowly and gradually, I slip out of the dilemma and return back to the daily grind of past and future tense. I love the relativity of my real world where S K Jain is the centre of attraction and a happening place. Even if true, singularity sounds like a boring proposition.
But given an option, a chick would never go back in an egg or for that matter for me mother's womb is a capital NO!
Slowly and gradually, I slip out of the dilemma and return back to the daily grind of past and future tense. I love the relativity of my real world where S K Jain is the centre of attraction and a happening place. Even if true, singularity sounds like a boring proposition.
But given an option, a chick would never go back in an egg or for that matter for me mother's womb is a capital NO!
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