At exactly what stage does the subject of a story becomes the object of it? We think we are the subject of our stories but we might just be the instruments in others'. In that case, what is the purpose of our existence? To teach, guide, help and support others? And what do we get out of this? Do we learn anything at all?
A few days later:
There was this bee on the bus looking very hurt. This women sitting next to me got uncomfortable - because there was a bee on the bus! She wanted to whack it, but I stopped her. "Give me a piece of paper" I said, she obeyed. I got the bee on the paper gently. This moment the whole bus was watching us. I took the paper, and the bee on it, outside and put the bee on a safe and dry place. I got back on the bus. People were still watching me. The woman sitting next to me said "you're very kind and gentle. I'm Hindu and believe in recarnation". At this stage I was thinking "you must thank me then I have just saved your grandma", but I didn't say a word. Then she said "some people kill them because they might sting". I said "they wouldn't if you don't hassle them or do anything they might think their life is in danger". Everyone was listening to us.
The rest is not important - at least for me. But I'm thinking now again: who is the subject and who is the object in this story ? And what does my and the bee's existence mean in this context? For the woman (and the whole bus), am I the tool here reminding what life means even the small creatures'? For the bee, am I the goddess deciding one's, the bee's in this context, destiny. For me, what am I? What is the moral of the story, what did I get out of this?
The woman is looking at me right now when I am writing these lines, like I am a guardian angel or a goddess who has appeared to her for a reason.
There was this bee on the bus looking very hurt. This women sitting next to me got uncomfortable - because there was a bee on the bus! She wanted to whack it, but I stopped her. "Give me a piece of paper" I said, she obeyed. I got the bee on the paper gently. This moment the whole bus was watching us. I took the paper, and the bee on it, outside and put the bee on a safe and dry place. I got back on the bus. People were still watching me. The woman sitting next to me said "you're very kind and gentle. I'm Hindu and believe in recarnation". At this stage I was thinking "you must thank me then I have just saved your grandma", but I didn't say a word. Then she said "some people kill them because they might sting". I said "they wouldn't if you don't hassle them or do anything they might think their life is in danger". Everyone was listening to us.
The rest is not important - at least for me. But I'm thinking now again: who is the subject and who is the object in this story ? And what does my and the bee's existence mean in this context? For the woman (and the whole bus), am I the tool here reminding what life means even the small creatures'? For the bee, am I the goddess deciding one's, the bee's in this context, destiny. For me, what am I? What is the moral of the story, what did I get out of this?
The woman is looking at me right now when I am writing these lines, like I am a guardian angel or a goddess who has appeared to her for a reason.
Hiç yorum yok:
Yorum Gönder