Self v/s Soul

Reflections on....

A Dialogue of Self and Soul

So the ‘self’ and ‘soul’ were once in a conversation. Both wanted to halt at one station. Soul wanted poet to shun all anxieties of life and work his way out of intense strife. The solution was in a winding stair moving in the direction of pole star. There it ended in an abyss so dark. No body, no pain, no entity but darkness’s reign.

Self rather focused on Sato’s sword – spotless and shimmering – talking of histories and ancestral generations. 500 years it had survived with a strange immortality. Yet self loved all this artificiality. So what if there were blames and names of society. so what if man was mortal – victim of social vicinity. If there were pains, then pleasures too. Aah, the sword’s beauty – it seeked nothing in lieu.

The sword spoke of centuries of heroic valor.  It was covered in an attractive silk cloth – out from some japans lady’s cellar. The cover had purple flowers embroidered all around. Though faded yet it had that historical sound. And how could one have missed the glamour of blades – so old yet nowhere its stories fades.

So there in those ancient tales self sees life. There in self – introspection it observes no strife. There was no need for the poet to sail till Byzantium. What is the use of getting lost in abstract just because you had a certain momentum?

Self was dazzled by life’s ride. True, it had pains but there was also the spirit to fight. And there was love too – what else can man ask in lieu. True, man is a foolish creature. Whatever society portrays – he considers it his nature. he falls in love with proudy woman. He dishevels his own stem. But, life is not so bad after all. there is bliss in adam’s fall. How else would one have distinguished – pain from pleasure.  Sensations are after all – man’s greatest treasure.

Soul still seeks that abstract union with darkness. Self sloshes it mentioning its worthlessness. What would it feel to feel nothing at all? soul with in a body has no entity after all. soul hence accepts its failures. Self prefers to again meet some new stirs. This time there is htis strange realization – of the beauty of life and its limited creation. So deep inside – one decides – to not get deluded in spiritual salvation and customize one’s own psychological nation; to feel good about life no matter what; to live life king size – though being a mere dot. Mortality has its own beauty after all. it has options to rise after each fall. Hence man chooses to enjoy those eternal cycles of life and death - To wait for a refresh button after each of its wrath.

Mystical Wanderer