When my dad died four months ago, I cried continuously for four days. I cried not just because of my love for him and the realisation that I could no longer see him, but also because I couldn't get rid of my guilt in not being there for him. My guilt trip was stronger than any other emotion then. Then my aunt, who watched me silently for four days, told me to control myself. She said my dad will not be happy if I send him off crying. She said even now, years after her husband's death, she still felt guilty about all the arguments they had; that it was guilt which makes our emotions go out of control. It was only then that I could clearly see how self-absorbed I had become, that I did not acknowledge my mother's and sister's grief. It was only then I could find the strength to take responsibility for things to be done. They both looked upto me and I was on my way to fail them by being miserable when I had to be strong. I still feel guilty, but I know now that I cannot let myself become weaker.
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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