From the annals of a yellowed journal (circa 1990) transcribed verbatim
The question that has plagued all life. Ironical. Yet It is just that – a paradox. Just as
one cannot find out what’s after life unless one dies. Yet the soul surges in anticipation – to know its roots, to find the
purpose – of existence. Has anyone really found what life is? I wonder. How then do we go on living without knowing what living means? or what it is meant to be?
The question harasses the intellect throwing all other activities into inconsequence. Perhaps that is why the so called seers have proclaimed time and again the inferiority of the human intellect and made it a sin even to question.
Was a fear of the chaos that would result in the monotony of ‘life’ once the mind wonders that led to the suppression? It is indeed this
mortal fear of the unexpected and change that that has piled ignorance one atop another burying truth into oblivion. Is the question as unanswerable as claimed.
But if the mind can question it can answer too. For we question only when we feel a disharmony and we sense a disharmony only because we have a sense of what is correct and that precisely is the answer to the question.
Only we have to realise it.