I still remember the day I brought a water lily from a deep pond between the fields. I was all of 11 years and didn't want it to wither away soon. So, despite mom's advice, I thought I could keep it alive by keeping its stalk immersed in a water-filled bottle on the parapet of the well in front of my house. The lily lived for 36 hours in the blistering hot coastal sun. When I came from school for lunch, I rushed to see the lily only to find it dry and drooping, sad that it was snatched away from its home and kin.
I still remember the sorrow that pervaded my whole being. I kept trying to revive it for a day more until mom took it from me and threw it away.
Then I remembered how, years later, I made fun of my young sister for planting a rose flower in the earth, watering it and checking every few minutes to see if a new plant came up. She was as innocent as I. And as hopeful.
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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