I planted some rose bushes, a few aloe vera and chrysanthemum plants. All of them died. Then I, very ambitiously, planted a butter fruit seed. It lost its life after growing to be a healthy plant of about my height when somebody decided it was a mere weed and stifled it with heaps of dry twigs and leaves.
Thus ended my gardening. I wondered how weeds grew so abundantly without any added nutrition or care in the same soil.
It was only yesterday that I could think of a reason. The weeds were free. They grew where they wanted, when they liked. No human conditioned their growth. The soil was theirs, the water and the sun.
We plant a seed with love, take care of it with love.
But I realise now that freedom is infinitely more necessary than love.
Guess I am out of touch with everything right now, so no blog entry for many days. From many days, a question is bothering me. I haven't found a satisfactory answer yet. So I'll write it down here. Maybe anybody who reads this may know the answer. "Just because we are journalists, writers, opinion creators and thinkers, do we have the right to judge others? Either personally or professionally?" I think we don't have the right to judge a person, even if we are right. But as writers, we would have to judge others whether we like it or not. And it's very difficult forcing people to think, but that's what we are doing or pretending to be doing right? Another question: "How come life is so simple if you just let it live by itself without bothering much and so complicated if you try to manipulate it or even understand it?" Blessed are the ignorant. We who can understand everything, try not to let anything go by without understanding and thus miss the b
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