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CROSSING THE RUBICON

What really deserves to be named as culture? The one which is enmeshed in violence? The one and only one which is hurried and burried for power and desire to remain with it, uncompromisingly, in words and deeds, in nature and conduct, in passion and reason? Harshness of words, abusive inertia, roaming around, echoing a subversive culture, divided in binary, fighting for nothing. In fact, progress needs no violence, no effort, it flows naturally in flux of time. People are busy on street and in office for nothing. The one, who forgets to swallow in the elixir of life, has wasted it for nothing. No idea is fresh enough to survive eternity. No culture will survive the hurricane of time. The one, who dramatizes to be a protector and guardian of humanity often fails to sail over the other side of river. For creation is an art of nature, and only nature knows its wisdom and its limitations. The one, who pretends to know often fails himself at the moment of necessity, and one, who surrenders all sorts of pretentiousness, is dear to nature, real in himself. The wisdom is not an isolated virtue. It is the acceptance of totality, which helps in crossing the rubicon. Superiority complex is the sworn enemy of a person, which ensures the downfall in accelerated pace. And one who pretends to be superior, remains ignorant till the spirit of life disappears forever, and then nothing remains to rejoice for, but the tragedic story of a wasted life.

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