BIRTH AND DEATH OF CLAY

It’s something like moving from a summer sunny day to the wintery cold night.

The birth of clay is when it is born of the clay by the breath of God the almighty.

The most comfortable place in the world without the cares of the world is the womb of the mother.

It’s when the clay is born it starts to cry. Why?

Many say your downhill t death is after the age of 50.

But I don’t think so it’s then, I guess it’s when the clay is born.

From then on the clay is responsible for its own survival.

The clay always is about to save its breath coz if the breath is gone, the clay returns to clay.

And that’s what none of us want.

How scared are we to death when we are certain of it. Can it be stopped? No.

That is one of the eternal truths we know.

How blind and deaf can we be that we can’t hear and see the nature die.

How dumb we grow when we ate to speak of death?

Well death puts all things right but we don’t wanna get it right.

An Insight just occurred to me: when a new baby is born we are all happy we welcome this new born child into the most deadly race in the world: the Human Race. We are happy for the child coz it’s just gonna do like us destruct this world as we do. I’m sorry for being so pessimistic, but that’s what it is. And then we cry after the person dies coz we are now sure now that this person is never gonna follow us anymore.

We grow and grow, grabbing all that want beyond our necessary requirements.

Giving our body all the possible pleasures that we can.

Forgetting that the soul too needs to be cared of.

Oh! How dumb and deaf and blind and lame our soul will be on the last day as we grow ahead.

The more we create, double the times we destroy.

Leaving the nature worse than ever.

The nature never tires about giving coz it knows.

It will give until it can and then cease to exist.

That will eventually lead to the end of the clay.

That’s what death is …..

You see a patient in the hospital suffering in a hospital at the mercy of the nature coz that’s what it is that provides medicines, etc. to him.

But what when the nature can’t provide anymore.

The person ceases to exist.

Oh! How foolish this clay can be.

Trying to beautify the pot or any clayey material.

It only requires one hit.

And there comes down the pot from the table down to the ground, shattering itself into a million pieces.

What was all the use of beautification?

When the clay knew that one day it would shatter and be thrown away only to be back the clay it was once…..