HOW POWERLESS WE ARE, HOW UTTERLY POWERLESS !
The desperate thing about life is that we are so powerless to alter the course of things past, so weak that we can hardly cater to the problems of the day with a sufficiency that makes life more bearable for the teeming millions who toil in vain to meet the challenges of life and die daily like beasts of burden whose blood-spilling labour builds up the edifice of our vaunted civilisation.
We are powerless, indeed, to alter the state of things despite our tall talk of civilisation and culture, for complex are the problems that confront the world, complicated its mechanisms of change in the teeth of huge inertia of the decadent past, the baggage of outdated mores and norms, monstrous ideas of medieval times that throttle civilisation as they hold it in their unyielding death-grip. These will have to be overcome, subjugated, conquered if humankind is to rise to its fullest future possibilities.
Herein lies the challenge which thus far man has failed miserably to meet up to, and herein will lie man's future glory, too, as he rises through the tide of times to a sufficiency of strength to be able to combat and conquer the odds of life. Right now, though, things are desperate, indeed, as humanity struggles through the present problematic state of terrestrial existence amid a sea of troubles, amidst a deluge of blood with a whole of lot of seemingly senseless human sacrifice that apparently knows no end.
But brighter days will follow as winter makes way for blossoming spring and all will be sunshine again. So man hopes and so may the unfolding future bring to fruition its fairest promise that ever shines bright in the human heart.
Written by Sugata Bose
The desperate thing about life is that we are so powerless to alter the course of things past, so weak that we can hardly cater to the problems of the day with a sufficiency that makes life more bearable for the teeming millions who toil in vain to meet the challenges of life and die daily like beasts of burden whose blood-spilling labour builds up the edifice of our vaunted civilisation.
We are powerless, indeed, to alter the state of things despite our tall talk of civilisation and culture, for complex are the problems that confront the world, complicated its mechanisms of change in the teeth of huge inertia of the decadent past, the baggage of outdated mores and norms, monstrous ideas of medieval times that throttle civilisation as they hold it in their unyielding death-grip. These will have to be overcome, subjugated, conquered if humankind is to rise to its fullest future possibilities.
Herein lies the challenge which thus far man has failed miserably to meet up to, and herein will lie man's future glory, too, as he rises through the tide of times to a sufficiency of strength to be able to combat and conquer the odds of life. Right now, though, things are desperate, indeed, as humanity struggles through the present problematic state of terrestrial existence amid a sea of troubles, amidst a deluge of blood with a whole of lot of seemingly senseless human sacrifice that apparently knows no end.
But brighter days will follow as winter makes way for blossoming spring and all will be sunshine again. So man hopes and so may the unfolding future bring to fruition its fairest promise that ever shines bright in the human heart.
Written by Sugata Bose
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