Sunday, April 29, 2012


It is a tale of medieval times when Arabian nights was written and the mystique of empire of china spread around the world with the fabric of the everlasting threads of silk which find its way throughout the world trough silk route. The surrealism and mythologies were blown across the boundaries of various civilizations; there was romanticism, naive ness and a resultant blissfulness. In such epoch of ethereal gaiety there existed an island in the western pacific studded with the emeralds of palm and dined with the delicious fishes and coconut butter. The place where the music of sea waves sing with the tone of innocence, an inconspicuous silence pervades in the stillness of sea at horizon, where a boat is returning from the toil of day seems reddish in the drape dusk. A place in the world yet distinguishable from every other land was called the island of bliss it was a delicacy embedded with a ubiquitous empathy and mutual love and affection flowing through the nerves of life throughout that island. It was not just an archaic or primitive naive ness that was being discerned into this simplicity and love but there was something in the ambience of this place that every soul which enters here gets drowned in the fountain of altruism and benevolence. The head of the tribe an old man of around hundred years looked contended and happy sitting on a rock teaching the new lot of youngsters he told them that the island of bliss has some inherent mores which every member of the clan has been taught and so are you. The first lesson is that we can’t grow with greed as it will take away the happiness by killing the feeling of trust, fraternity and equality. Greed pilfers the peace of mind and increases the restlessness and this restlessness kills the bliss, makes us ill and tense, It is not me but we that is going to make difference in the life of people, second is that no organism is inferior all forms of life are respected and revered in this island, third is that we don’t trade we don’t keep surplus when thing is produced in excess of ones need it is given to the common pool from where it is distributed where it is in deficiency as per the wisdom of elders. Hard work is the most cherished quality of any human on our island but because there is no surplus collection no one works insanely every person works and also gives proper time to family and enjoys life to the fullest. People live in groups of size suitable to the other needs as distribution of work and mobility in time of need, the oldest person in the group is the head with this he asked them to move to farms and work and learn there.
                                     This is how life is flowing on the island of bliss, In the morning some men moved to shores in the search of fish other moved their feet’s towards farms where crops and vegetables are grown, women too shared some burden both at sea and in farms. It was a very musical island there were songs for planting the crops and songs to harvest them there were songs for rain, songs for the arrival of spring there were songs for sea and sun there were songs that were sung while going for fish catch there were songs for nights when the whole clan use to gather outside folklores were shared by old with children who rejoiced them as they imbibe them with the culture of bliss, despite of divisions in group no one thinks in the terms of mine and theirs the culture was imbued with oneness there was no place for differentiation in mine and ours, no vengeance was there because no greed was their, every islander believed in an all pervading spirit which they called Ismo. People prayed to Ismo for well being of all and to keep the island always blissful and endowed with unity of hearts. This was how the island of bliss is living in serenity for sometime till something unexpected happened. what was that? next time!

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