Those holes and ragged edges, weird stage of underwear.. remember. Everyone has drawback.
This is an average’s life.
Despite spending high on these, buying the best, stylish and branded, we use them old and holed.
But it is UNDER wear 🙂 and we know that nobody sees it with the pants on.
It’s inside, that is why it’s OK. So OK is our life.
On the pool party or on the sex night, we buy a new one or arrange one without holes. That is an event in life.
But after washing, drying the old ones regularly, out in open sunlight.. is the trick that we play all the time with our lives.
Hanging it in the balcony, on the roof.. where its poor, ragged condition is wide open to all eyes.
How to save our ass’s prestige.. is an art. Trick is to dry it in the open and that must not open ‘the dramatic disclosure’ of our true state.
Though outside, we have tucked in shirts and 3/4 folded sleeves.. in style. But we know that people know that inside, our underwear have holes. They saw it on a yesterday.
So, we apply all the tricks in hiding our torn underwear. We put it on a string as it reveals the least of its condition or cover it with a towel.
This same artwork we apply to hide torned out conditions of our life.
I have issues in my relationship and health, yet I move like I am Arnold Schwarzenegger and the brainiest and coolest social consultant like Sandeep Maheshwari. Knowing everything and solving any issues for me, is as easy as breathing out. But others know about holes in my underwear and the truth about my life.
iPhone is a bandage on that hole. Good clothes, a cool ride.. all such bandages on holes of life.
I was supposed to feel good with these lavishlies, a self prized feeling that would and must are supposed to elevate my life.
Instead I use them as artificial patches to hide my shortcomings and sorrows.
And whatever misses, I want to forget all those in drinks.
It feels so tough to follow life’s customs and disciplines. I am OK with living a low life as long as my holes are hidden with bandages and pants, living life in those short events and shortcuts.
So, we master ourselves in the art of hiding our underwear.
Money can’t buy love but money can surely make you lovable. We took this literally and moved one step further by showing off rented goodies and hiding our drawbacks.
I was reading somewhere that in the 70s, people were having savings, in the 80s people were not having any and now people are in debt. But nobody stops showing off. Infact it is way more than any time in the past. Classes of society are extreme at this.
Savings do not only mean money. I am saying, savings of money for emergencies, relations, friends, education.. we, with our parents and partner and kids.
Truth is, we put bandages everywhere. We lie and we lie a lot, to cover one, we put another and then another above it. Yet we never miss a slight percentage to show off artificially.
It becomes life now. New definition of new living. We are all jacked in life’s consumer Matrix, social Matrix, emotional Matrix.
Don’t want to accept that we know it and that we willingly don’t want to come out of it. Instead we only perfect ourselves in the art of hiding our delightful putrefaction.
Intellectual solutions to these drawback 😀
And then we wake up for detoxification and endowment. We do Yog, eat healthy Kito, visit Sadguru and Patanjali ashram. Follow Didi and Majaraj.
But we never correct what got rotten. We search for new relationships, new parties and new events, in new underwear. What adds, is a road trip for self awakening, slight cutoff from social media or less aggressive and more with divine light like quotations and posts.
Maybe with a little beard and intellectual type change in dressing.
Know what, this all is also a bandage.. a bigger one. From inside, we are shouting for the same old cheez pizza and beers late at night.
But we are compelled in our own bandages and perfectly hanged holed underwear, that we are afraid and and more concerned about disruption of this artificially generated peaceful alteration. So we are cautious and wait for a nice.. perfect out.
It could be a job change and change in sex partner, enveloped in syrup of ‘mai tumse sach me piyara karta hu’ or ‘karti hu’.
And we want to be eloped to a Mars like place, but somewhere on Earth (remember we always want back our cheezy schezwan chicken wings tub and alcohol in night)
All we are perfecting ourselves is perfectly ‘chaddi sukhane ki art’ 🙂
Advisor | Finding the perfect Guidance.
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