I was in the middle of a golf course. What they do to this landscape, is for lack of a better word; beautiful. Lush grass, thriving trees, cool breeze, open space. One can even spot a deer running through every now and then. There's water as well, gently rippling across carefully placed lakes.. what more of an eye-pleaser could one ask for ?
And then I had a little moment with nature. Nature. What a conveniently broad word. I suppose everything without human intention and intervention; is nature. Not too controvertible a definition ?
That's when I realized: this golf course; however splendid it may be, was after all, doctored.
Us; as arrogantly supreme human beings, domesticated nature to make it look beautiful for us, so that we could hit around a ball with a bent stick.
I looked down at the grass. It had an oddly serene quality about it. Finely cut, soft and watered. Cut. Not the way it was, without our doing. Cut. To make it of suitable aesthetic and gameplay.
It all looked nice. Yet, somehow, there was an undeniable sadness inherently disguised.
I glanced over to some shrubs.
An ever adorable cliche, is that of a romantic picking out a flower to do the -loves me, loves me not- routine. Cute
First then, in this age old process of logical-less affirmation, one ends the 'life' of a flower. A doing-nothing-whatsoever other than beautifully existing flower. One then, proceeds to pluck out each of its buds/leaves.
I could well be fallible in my zoological interpretation; but seemed like, we for our own absolutely selfish reason, took away the prospering life out of a flower to only then tear it to more pieces; before finally discarding it while letting chance take a decision on whether some one 'loved me, or not'.
Imagine, and bear with me here for a moment; if nature were to be given a form of appearance we're familiar with: two eyes, limbs, a mouth. Imagine a large green monster-esque figure. Imagine If this 'nature' were to say, go beat down some random guy, and once dead, take the carcass apart; left hand, right hand, left leg .. while uttering away: loves me, loves me not. loves me, ...
An absurdly weird image. Or thought, for that matter.
A bunch of such picked flowers, while in them remains some residual beauty, qualify as the conventional gift on celebrations. A bouquet, all nice smelling and wrapped.
Those lifeless pieces of nature, are what make for a thoughtful gesture, apparently.
And I cut to halt my one-on-one with nature. Much too guilt and sorrow.
I looked at the buildings from the city that were panoramically visible from the course. Their rod like shape seemed symbolic now .. hah
And then I continued along the path on the course made specially for walking.
We even paved away the wilderness, just to make for a place for us to walk on.
And they tell us to save the world by recycling
This entry was posted
on Thursday, June 11, 2009
at Thursday, June 11, 2009
. You can follow any responses to this entry through the
comments feed
.
About us
Once accustomed to each others daily company in a hexagonal room, looking not much unlike the 25 other odd male inhabitants in a conformity-intended ensemble, we occupied the same high school space. In running the risk of cliched nostalgic reminiscence; those were certainly days of bro-bonding like none other.
We find ourselves today, at three vastly different cities and institutions of higher learning. What still sustains our friendship though; beyond and despite the lack of geographical proximity, is what I shall simplistically attempt to explain with the aid of a statistical math tool (refer:common ground).
With these pleasantries out of the way; let me further convolute this introduction.
There are nerds, and there are jocks. There are the deeply pious, and the self-righteous atheists. The lost poets in apathetic tees and the narcissistic yuppies in classy 3-piece GQs. The thums up lovers and the connoisseurs of fine wine.
Or as I would like to think of us; both and neither.
There is an oxymoron in there somewhere
For at some point in our lives; we've each played a video game for 9 hours straight, spent a session from midnight to dawn of uninterrupted street football, quoted Nietzshe and then laughed on last nights How I Met ..
you get the idea.
We find ourselves today, at three vastly different cities and institutions of higher learning. What still sustains our friendship though; beyond and despite the lack of geographical proximity, is what I shall simplistically attempt to explain with the aid of a statistical math tool (refer:common ground).
With these pleasantries out of the way; let me further convolute this introduction.
There are nerds, and there are jocks. There are the deeply pious, and the self-righteous atheists. The lost poets in apathetic tees and the narcissistic yuppies in classy 3-piece GQs. The thums up lovers and the connoisseurs of fine wine.
Or as I would like to think of us; both and neither.
There is an oxymoron in there somewhere
For at some point in our lives; we've each played a video game for 9 hours straight, spent a session from midnight to dawn of uninterrupted street football, quoted Nietzshe and then laughed on last nights How I Met ..
you get the idea.