Our Little Worlds

Somewhere in the south eastern china, there was a small town named huangshatang, hunshatang, huangshatan, oh whatever. Lets give it an Indian name, Machlipatnam. In this town machlipatnam, there was a lake where people used to go fishing. The fishing was not for earning livelihood, so it didnt involve fishing nets and motor boats; rather it was more for leisure involving fishing rod with worms hooked on the end.

Now lets get inside the lake and analyse the community there. The lake was home to a wide variety of fish, the most abundant being the tuna fish. Also they were considered to be delicious when cooked in mustard oil along with certain types of herbs. And so naturally they were the ones who were caught the most by the hobbyist fishermen. Even if any other kind of fish was caught by mistake, they were just thrown back into the lake, for you see when fishing as a hobby one prefers to take home only the best fish available. In that school of tuna fish, there was a particular fish, somewhat different from others; in other words, it was more intelligent than the others. Its name was Xin Xiang. Lets give it an Indian name too, Chapalata.

Chapalata was intelligent enough to not get caught in the trap set by the fishermen. Instead she had her own contraption, by which she would capture the worms hooked and relish the delicacy without getting caught. And so while everyone around her were getting caught by the fishermen, she would each day enjoy a delicious meal of worms for breakfast, lunch and dinner without fail. But being intelligent, she had this feeling of prudish selfishness, which used to keep her away from other people. There is a rather broad line between being reserved and being a loner, and she was way off the line on the other side.

Anyways, once there was a oil spill at a certain portion of the lake, and thanks to the abundant plantation in the portion of the lake where the spill occured, the catastrophe was largly contained. A sizeable amount of the fishes were dead but not so large as to endanger the specie. And as a safety measure, every fish was forbidden to go near that place. But our chapalata, being oblivious to the knowledge of the catastrophe, and being too prudish to heed any warnings by lesser intelligent beings, went straight into the mouth of death and then was never heard of.

So the moral of the story is: If you are dumb, you will fail sooner, if you are intelligent but proud, your failure will be postponed a little bit but you will fail nonetheless.

Anyways that was not what I wanted to write in this post. And the moral doesnt make sense anyway :P.  What I wanted to highlight was that for the simple fact like the moral in the above two lines, each one of us can spin a whole story around it. And it seems astounding that we are infact creating our own world, which has infinite limit in as little space as just a portion of our brain.

Each one of us has his/her own little world, the most relevant objects being the things which we say are a part of our lives. In our world we have a projection of almost everything and everyone we see around. And we keep on adjusting these projections, a bit to left, a bit to right, a bit deeper, a bit shallower depending about the new things we learn about them. Most of these projections are formed at first sight and do not change too often, but for some projections we adjust them with such assiduity that they almost resemble the real objects. These are the ones who matter the most in our lives, whether due to our love for them or due to our hatred.


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