Only unexpected gifts make life worth living. What is life without such gifts? A burden, perhaps. But the existence of such moments which are totally unforseeable, make life boundlessly rich. If my lonely musings below are able to give anyone such unexpected happiness then I think my effort has been rewarded.
So, never expect, just live.
I wonder what to think about these lines
"I imagine the gift of an infinite suffering, of blood and open bodies...I imagine the earth projected into space, like a woman screaming, her head in flames. I can only perceive a succession of cruel splendors whose very movement require that I die: this death is only the exploding consumption of all that was, the joy of existence of all that comes into the world; even my own life demands that everything that exists ceaselessly give itself to be annihilated." -George Bataille
When they called me, as it was my wont, I was lying
supine on an old bed sheet spread on the floor. By now I had got used to
sleeping on the floor though it was very difficult in the beginning. On the one
hand repeated police beatings had made my bones utterly mushy and on the other,
I had led a life of comfort. Because I was used to a life of comfort, I slept
in a cot even during my days of hiding. Otherwise like others of my ilk I too
would have been hiding in some sugarcane fields. But I had told the jathedars –
group leaders – very clearly that I would be spending my nights in some dera1.
The jathedars were in great awe of my being educated and otherwise too, what
objection could they have had? Rather I only did all their work and I enjoyed a
better reputation as a junior jathedar. *