Saturday, May 23, 2009

25. Spilt milk & a torn heart

I am no good at penning down condolences.

My tears cannot bring back your life and gladden a parent's drained heart.

Magnitude of error is so artistically deceptive sometimes.

My mental picture is so dark with your face all over, that I feel worthless.

You really were God's favorite child. Indeed!

This is just to tell you how deeply you are missed.

Somehow, I couldn't stop myself from writing these down here.

Is it possible to imagine anything so ridiculous
as this miserable and wretched creature,
which is not so much as master of himself,
exposed and subject to offenses of all things;
and yet dareth call himself master and emperor of this universe
in whose power it is not to know the least part of it,
much less to command the same?
And the privilege, which he so fondly challengeth,
to be the only absolute creature in this huge world’s frame
perfectly able to know the absolute beauty and several parts thereof,
and that he is only of power to yield the great Architect thereof due thanks for it, and keep account both of the receipts and layings-out of the world!
Who hath sealed him this patent?
Let him show us his letters of privilege for so noble and so great a charge.

Michael de Montaigne, An Apology of Raymond Sebond, 1568

Ankita, Rachit : May your soul RIP
Ankur, Pramod, Megha, Loukik, Shaurya, and all the others who are battling trauma.. We are all praying for you.... Come back home, Godspeed!

Maybe this post belonged in my little pink diary, but it made more sense to pour out the heart at this juncture.


  1. @Agent,

    A few friends of mine lost their lives to a road accident a week ago.

    Added the link post edit.


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