Maya

I am told this world is a dream. Brahma's illusion. It's funny to even imagine, why the fuck am I being screwed so bad in someone else's illusion.

I used to dwell on the truth that everything I see is the sum of everything I imagine I see. I was shut off. There was a distinction between what was me, and what wasn't me. My four walls defined me. Protected me from diluting in my obsession, my cure-less narcissism. 

And I sometimes, in wildest dreams, I tried even to distillate whatever truth there was, however minuscule that may be, from enormous proportions of what everything just seemed to be.  

But now, with time, I have begun to live outside myself. That's the cost we pay. I'll tell you how. 

I am a lose summation what everyone imagines that I am. That I should be. Losing out on breath, I am aimlessly trying to become that one person that I ought to be. To get a better life. 

That notional ideal, is not the one thing I wished to be. Be-come. In fact, I didn't wish to become anyone. Anyone other than what I absofuckinglutely was. Not one trait more or less. No metaphor. No nothing. 

But look, now I live via others. Evaluate every moment of existence by how much I tended to become some tired-of-life-end-of-the-world-frustrated-tireless-moron. And I can't help myself. 

'What is truth? What is sanity? Did Jesus rise up from the grave? Do Hindus not accept that the world is a kind of dream; that Brahma dreamed, is dreaming the universe, that we only see dimly through that dream-web, which is Maya. Maya, may be defined as all that is illusory; as trickery, artifice and deceit. Apparitions, phantasms, mirages, sleight-of-hand, the seeming form of things: all these are parts of Maya. If I say that certain things took place which you, lost in Brahma's dream, find hard to believe, then which of us is right?'

-Salman Rushdie (Midnight's Children)

5 comments:

Surya Prakash V said...

Now you are talking.

But, this conception of Maya is false. Maya simply implies measurement. It does not mean a dream it does not reject existence; it merely pre supposes the slice of reality I have constructed in my head is an illusion.

Salman R can go f--- himself.

wildflower said...

'it merely pre supposes the slice of reality I have constructed in my head is an illusion.'

How better could anyone toy with words, though, with all due respect, I am a Rushdie fan.

Surya Prakash V said...

Me too.

Truth is ruthless. It's pursuit more so. I reject SR in those sentences. Like he would mine if he read me.

What happened to me? What is happening? What is me? What??

------- o -------
"in terms of evolutionary history, it's only yesterday they men learnt to walk and get into trouble thinking complicated thoughts. So don't worry you will burn out" - Murakami.

"This person, this self, this me, finally, was made somewhere else. Everything had to come from somewhere else and it would go somewhere else. I was nothing but a pathway for the person known as me" - Murakami


"somethings you know, if you say them, it makes them nit true?" - Murakami.

wildflower said...

Burning out in the end, is such solace V. I can't wait to burn out.

Surya Prakash V said...

It's the hope that makes the despair possible.

This could just be a vain hope of Murakami. Think of it, laws of motion dictate that an object will hold it's inertia until an external force acts.

Question is, what outside us can bring us to a halt when we are our own fuel?