The chapter 24-25 deals with pain, condolences, confinement, courage, fear, comfort, assurance, surprises, salvation, separation, joy, agony, freedom, infidelity, injustice, peace, wander, perseverance, selflessness, love, suspicion, promises, immortality, knowledge, achievement, journey.
Turning 25 is the first bench mark of the 60 years of life. Until now, the changes that ebbed and flowed only touched and inspired. Some went unseen, some upturned. As the days add in, answering the puzzling question – “Who moved my cheese?” becomes mandatory, for I am a big MAN now. Reading the book of the title same as the puzzling question, years back, left one impression in my mind – “change with the change” is the mantra. My first virtual preacher Dr. Spencer Johnson taught the world to see the changes as they come and to deal with them in the possible right manner.
Tauk, tauk, tauk….. hit the outer sole of my shoes under my heels as the three stairs led to a well-lit dining hall of a restaurant at the corner of the street where a man whose heart was broken by the unkind deed of his love being taken for granted, was waiting to lighten the burden of his pain by sharing it with me. The words of wisdom gushed out of me. “There’s always a principle of cause and effect, and the cause of one’s sorrow is not the deeds of others but the emphasis of it on self is”. To differentiate between matters seeking emphasis or ignorance lies in the ability to hold responsibility of freeing oneself from the fears and worries, flowing with the current and taking up the responsibility of the good and the bad. Making him understand this was an easy task as this enlightenment I had attained from the “License To Live” that led to “The Perfect World”. Priya Kumar, your beauty in thoughts is seen the charm of your face. And this you’ve embossed, “”I am responsible of everything that happens in my world!”
Sex….Oh my God!!! Speaking of it, errr…. uttering the THREE letter word in India is religiously foul. Hats off! to Paulo Coelho for remarkably inscribing the power of “Eleven Minutes” of the forms of sex. Paulo’s art of description of events reflect the ideals of we Indians on sex. When I spoke of this with my friend at the restaurant, after pulling him from his despair, a lady from the behind rushed unto me asking me to curtail the talk on it as my loud voice enthralled everyone there (wink wink…it happens only in India)
We had left the restaurant. He felt better. I was happy seeing my friend finding peace for the chaos in his mind. But the conversation went on. One subject lead to the other, very much like Em’s in “Em and The Big Hoom”, a story that resides in my heart, from Jerry Pinto, whose impeccable style of reciting conversations has taken me head over heels. Love is nowhere in the words, only in deeds, that way Jerry portrays the joy of giving. Love in depths of insanity is about giving with no expectation of seeking, a feel that imbibes you to experiencing richness in showering selfless love and puts you down when you don’t give in your fullest, it’s about the art of giving in which“Any less, makes you less”