Mystery of life
Sometimes when I am writing letters, reading books, or doing some chores, I have to stop in my track wondering, who am I? What am I doing here? Everything is so mysterious.
A few verses from poet and philosopher Omar Khayyam comes to my mind. These are: "Why have we come to this world, from where and what for? When a sunflower opens its petals by the warm touch of the morning sun, Sheuli at that time falls to the ground in silent pain."
Another poet (I have forgotten his name) wrote in one of his poems: "Is this life or a storm? We are going to die in the hands of life. When we came in this world, we cried a little, now we are getting drenched all over."
When I look around, I see people of all ages and feel sad thinking that every one of them will die someday.
I see sufferings all around me, mental and physical. Why do people have to suffer like this? I do not know the answer. May the Almighty Creator help us all.
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