I was watching TV, working on my code, not paying any attention to what was going on. And I look up and hear Achilles say,

I’ll tell you a secret. Something they don’t teach you in your temple. The Gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.

Beautiful. ‘Troy’, a movie that is pretty normal in most aspects IMO, packed a dialogue so intense, so true and elegant. I cannot even begin to express my appreciation in mere words, on the subtlety this transcends. It was like poetry…

Eye, the Eye that contains the I;
Eye, more powerful than fire.
Thy gaze more penetrating than the strongest force,
The path to truth, the realization of the eye.

The two eyes serene, concealing aspiration,
the third burns silently, watching thy tempation.
The eye, thy mind, what difference do they have ?
The lord of ashes conceals it all.
The sovereign observer never sleeps,
the blue throated consciousness, ever aware
of even the billionth of the heat dissipated

Burn thyself and feed the ultimate eye;
Oh thee who never closes thy eye,
Tell me that this place isn’t baked by the poison in me.
Give me strength to bear the sting
To prolong, to proceed and to rise, to meet thy eye.

Wild thoughts engross the weaker mind,
Fight against and provide resistance,
Let thee be blessed by the ultimate intervention ;
For that is the only power to rely upon.
Rewarded will thee be, if thy aspiration persists.

Obstacles come and go,
Dissipation the motive, bringing down the silence,
Aspiration the antidote, to cure the morose.
Hang on and thee shall be spoken to.

Chant the name, the name that you love,
For every name bears the mark of the supreme,
Realize the identity in every entity,
For that is the stepping stone to the truth.

Analysis of the complex and the reason eludes,
But persist and thee shall see the true image;
Walk, without sleep and everything will fall into place,
And thee shall reach the point of no haze.

It is so very confusing trying to figure out the subtle difference between the mind and the heart. The mind is so very egoistic, morphed by facades, has burnt beleives unlike the heart which knows not of any such morosities and is pure in its intentions to the depth. It is like a bottomless abyss, a never ending container that expands itself according to its content. Anything pure from the heart is boundless, expecting nothing in return which is quite opposite to the ways of the mind.

Sometime back, i ended up in a discussion with a friend on ‘liking’ and ‘obsession’. Like a repeated folklore story, my mental model didn’t seem to fit theirs and theirs to mine as before. It was like a puzzle but of course such intricacies of the heart are moulded by the personality and so i consoled myself that there is nothing here to ponder. The thought hidden, has been eating away my patience silently, for quite some time until the ever dissipating ‘anger’ showed up from nowhere to inform me that the thought was matured. I started pondering on it again and it was just a flash, an image pretty descriptive and yet cryptic as ever, showed up before my inner eye to explain such a makeup of the mind.

The image was about a heart shaped entity dissected in the middle and with different layers of stuffs covering over it. It seemed very much like layers of metals covering or rather protecting something delicate which can easily be affected. It was precisely like layers of iron covering the core made up of cotton. So the desire, the emotion, the feelings, the longings which are all basically different forms of heat, have to penetrate the outer strong layer to touch the deeper one. And once it finds its way, or in other words when the emotion becomes so intense that it can touch the cotton, then cotton will go on a fire, on a rage in effect of the emotion. The longing of the mind will join hands with the burning heat provided by the heart, amplifying the result such that desperation creeps in.

I have come to realise that i see no difference between ‘liking’ and ‘obsession’. It may mean that i am weak and the single layer of iron will fall for every emotion, giving way to burn the cotton for every silly desire, amplifying it as obsession unlike others for whom the gradient of protection prevents such a thing and hence the variation in liking is evident. It also seemed to answer why i have boundless energy inspite of my paltry food supplies, less water, but spend lots of my heat in doing things that i am obsessed with. The cotton keeps burning, not leaving the mind at rest, the underlying flame keeps the body moving, pushing it farther and farther, not realising that the bag shall tear beyong a certain threshold, not withstanding the heat it has to handle.

Oh thee dark one, Oh lord of ashes, Ye who haunts my dreams,
Take my heat, supply me with pure aspiration,
Burn my desire once and for all
Bless me with peace and calm this swelling heart.