(Aug 29, 2:53pm)

My Kashmiri brother... he downloaded the vintage pic I had posted here, over this blog, and published it on *ah**d's wall.. Very jubilantly, it seems..

Since he gave a caption too.. a cheeky one... and judging by the reactions it arouse, I think everything was upbeat..

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Except that he had cropped me out...
Anyway..

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Do I love mom anymore?

Did mom love me actually?

Is love sufficient.... in a vile world, where the vilest are more likely to set rules.. rules which have little regard or affinity for love?

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Muma was great person.. she attained detachment to worldly pleasure with her spiritual pursuit.. a kind of control over the mind, where the quest for monetary worth becomes impertinent..

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But the point is, she attained such "nirvana", if we call it, I didn't..

If I were at her place, I would secure my son's future, before giving away to others.. It would make me mundane surely.. but I would choose to be a selfish parent rather than a selfless person..

I would finish my retirement paper works, and see there is enough I bequeath in my absence..so that my son is not spared..

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Particularly, when I am 41 years older to my son, in feeble health, and likely to pass away while he is still young...and alone in a world, which is, to repeat, vile.. and tailored in a way that only the vilest prosper..

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My Kashmiri brother cropped me out... I am told, by a very dear person, that this was not intended..

But then.. An injury, no matter from where or what context it is sourced from, and whether or not it contains "will" of the offender, hurts you.. Especially when it comes from people you thought are more likely to safeguard you against injury rather than produce it..

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