Friday, February 24, 2012

Absinthe not abstinence makes life a celebration.

Every religion and culture has its own season for abstaining from individual indulgences of the pleasures in life. There are many people who with evangelical fervor abstain from enjoying life and any of the common pleasures throughout their adulthood. They feel that their adult baptism under abstinence will have everlasting spiritual cleansing benefits. They will go to any Lent (pun intended) to prolong their misery.
I know a person who is in a quandary, he is a man, who eats only non vegetarian food, does not smoke, does not drink, does not gamble, womanize and has no girl or male friends. He now wants to celebrate his birthday, but how?

There are many like him, soulful ones who look as though their mothers did not so much bear them as knit them. They have little if any or expert knowledge of their trades, profession or even happiness. They watch the slow disintegration of their own lives and try to preach to the world, about giving up worldly pleasures, as if they hold destines of others in their hands. They advocate things like no smoking, no drinking, or no sex to others. Stop a person from doing things like that and they soon lose their joi-de-vivre, and turn into meek nervous fruits bags.

The sort of timid sneaks who sit at home with their over scented women, read newspapers to see if there is anything else that will do them harm, the type who in their middle age order dark suits a size larger hoping they will grow into it. Battling temptation rather than actually living the good life gives them an air of smug piety. Their dreary longevity will give them that much more time to realize what they are missing. Their moral realism is so strong that they consider everyone else as objects of their pity, of feeling piously superior and wonderful in their accomplishment.
Face to face with the marrow of the matter, they miss out on the spark of happiness that all humans want. The moan uttered in their last breath, when they realize their folly, but it is too late, morally defeated the futility of a wasted life remains.Real men don’t wash their hair with conditioners, or apply Botox on their faces. They sneer at these dumb guys, enjoy the world and preserve their macho mystique.

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