One fine day, when Mother Earth is going about its revolutions and rotations, the birds are trying to hunt for birdseed, millions of men and women would be running around doing meaningless work, trying to justify their jobs and existence, someone on the radar, a blip would flash brilliantly. And then it will fade away. To oblivion.
All the meaningless things (read cribbing, working, blogging, traveling, sleeping, walking, talking, writing, reading, justifying, even thinking) that we humans engage in, trying to follow the crowd, in hopes of leading the pack someday are futile. We are just trying to while away time. And mind, the machine needs constant motion. It needs some cranks, something or the other keep itself occupied. We oil it by indulging in mental masturbation. It takes different shapes for different people. Some people play cricket, some create companies, some donate their money, some are left in oblivion, some think they think what they are thinking and the things that they think and not really worth thinking, some travel, some sleep and many dream. Most work. Without realizing the futility. Of being just a blip on radar.
