Life after Zen

I started the so-called serious reading in college. In our first year at college, way back in 1996, a dear friend of mine and I used to go to the library and request for vague books. Poetry collections, selected works of masters, and the like.

I still remember the bewildered looks on the faces of the librarians!

I started reading Ayn Rand’s works. Fell in love with Kira. Still in search for her. Identified with Hank Rearden. And my favorite book character still is Gail Wynand.

Ayn Rand writes with this fervour, as if she had fever while she wrote her works. She had my adrenalin pumping. Every para oozed self-esteem. I rebelled royally. Anti-establishment. Anti-order.

My parents were shocked out of their wits. They cursed Ayn Rand. I cursed them for being second-handers. For being parasites. For being evil.

I smirked and mocked at Zen. I vouched for reason. Nobody had ever come through the book and romanced me so much.

After I read Rand’s all works, I moved on. Now, I love Zen. Because Zen encompasses all. Even Ayn Rand.

Life has altered a lot after I adopted Zen as my way of life.

I forgive. I live. I let live. I hurt. I empower.

I evade cause and effect theory.

I am part of the Universe.

Part of every tree, and every being who suffers. With them I suffer too. From a distance. From parallel lives.

I look at the stars; I look at bees and ants. I see us.

I am just a cog in the wheel. But the cog in the wheel is important.