Sins had woken up earlier than usual.
For a moment, he was tempted to close his eyes and let the upper region of his body drift downwards towards the makeshift pillow that he had created, composed of seven folded pants laid atop each other. He was able to resist the temptation easily. Aware that it was his sub-conscious mind that was still active, he had switched to thinking about an image of himself, oozing sweat, tears and blood while executing push-ups and pull-ups diligently, patiently, lovingly, as if his entire life depended on it.
Plus, the fact that Sins had stopped using a mattress helped. He had been sleeping on a bare cot for the past week, and had felt uncomfortable only for a day, sleeping blissfully for the rest. He had been surprised with the development, shelving plans to invest in a mattress after having moved house and ditched the decrepit previous one on a street, unashamedly, convinced that the news of an abandoned mattress lying on a street would definitely reach one of the many people he spied each morning who slept on pavements. He was glad.
After a quick, cold bath, he had armed himself with two slices of bread and peanut butter, aware that he needed to ensure his diet was as varied as possible, like his ancient hunter-gatherer ancestors, who had moved daily in search of food, thereby being fitter, their changing food menus from time to time owing to irregularity in supply, meaning they were more faster, sharper and more agile as compared to the sedentary lifestyles of their supposedly illustrious post-industrial age counterparts. Yes, an occasional tiger ate them, snakes bit them, but then, it was the same as road accidents and industrial pollution, which we, the modern people have to put up with.
Sins felt uncomfortable when he watched the world media, out in full force with their so-called agendas of peace and harmony, when all they were doing was pit one side against the other, never focusing on the fact that they were multiple perspectives and contexts to the same story. What was true for one wasn’t true for another, what could you do about it other than acknowledge, listen and try to solve the problem technically? Rather the entire premise was being based on who said what, and how greed, evil and lust were rampant all over the world. Sins wanted to see objective thinking, composed of facts and practical measures, not theory and vested interests.
Do we even know the reality anymore, too busy as we are in our day to day lives, focused on the next pay cheque, only to repeat our habit patterns again and again and again, never applying what we know is good for our well-being, refusing to look above the mundane, imagined realities of religion, culture, traditions and emotions, while neglecting truth, reality and rationality? He saw smoke, mirrors and fog cast a massive veil of misinformation, distraction and rampant, dangerous emotional behavior amongst a majority of the population, being balanced only by the sanity of the small minority who still voiced the truth out of volition, out of seeking and looking at the reality as it was, rather than wallow around in the pools of mediocrity composed of fear and shallow work.
Sins hoped people found the best way to live for themselves. A lifestyle rooted in productivity where cultivating good habits to increase focus, concentration and awareness needed to become the norm. He hoped people would come out of their distracted lives, making them miserable every day owing to their aversions and attachments towards pleasant and unpleasant thought patterns, that focused more on giving importance to unnecessary emotions and gossip mongering rather than ideas, facts and objective thinking for long periods of time. Read more, write more, exercise more, meditate more, eat better, sleep well, cultivate multiple skills patiently, diligently, gently, and watch yourself turn into the best version of yourself.
After a few minutes, where his mind had wandered away thinking about women, he brought his focus back to reality and wished his grandmother a happy seventy-eight. Done, he glanced at the list of tasks he had to do today, a perfect mix of reading, writing, thinking, exercising and eating.
He smiled.
Marijuana Maharaj 