An old man was walking on the beach one morning after a storm. In the distance, he could see someone moving like a dancer. As he came closer, he saw that it was a boy picking up starfishes and gently throwing them into the ocean. “Young man, why are you throwing starfishes into the ocean?”
“The sun is up, and the tide is going out, and if I don’t throw them in, they’ll die,” the boy replied.
“But, young man, do you not realise that there are miles of beach and thousands of starfishes? You can’t possibly make a difference.”
The boy listened quietly, then bent down, picked up another starfish and threw it at the old man. “Why you so like that, why you so like that? I give them all my love-love, but you never give me some.”
“The sun is up, and the tide is going out, and if I don’t throw them in, they’ll die,” the boy replied.
“But, young man, do you not realise that there are miles of beach and thousands of starfishes? You can’t possibly make a difference.”
The boy listened quietly, then bent down, picked up another starfish and threw it at the old man. “Why you so like that, why you so like that? I give them all my love-love, but you never give me some.”
- adapted from the original by Loren Eiseley
The above parody speaks of the contest between the young and the old. The former can't wait to assert himself while the latter can't bear to lose control.
In a family, children yearn to be free but their parents yearn for them to tread the scripted paths.
In a society, the young seek fresh challenges while their elders seek an equilibrium, a status quo.
In a country, the youthful and energetic contest the narratives that their predecessors wrote.
Ah, the cyclic nature of living, the pulls-and-pushes of life. Everything flows with a dharmic ease, waxing and waning with melodic rhythms. Life begins, almost as quickly as it had ended. The young displaces the old, and are quickly displaced in turn.
In a family, children yearn to be free but their parents yearn for them to tread the scripted paths.
In a society, the young seek fresh challenges while their elders seek an equilibrium, a status quo.
In a country, the youthful and energetic contest the narratives that their predecessors wrote.
Ah, the cyclic nature of living, the pulls-and-pushes of life. Everything flows with a dharmic ease, waxing and waning with melodic rhythms. Life begins, almost as quickly as it had ended. The young displaces the old, and are quickly displaced in turn.
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| Moss above Detritus, Growth amid Decomposition, Life spiraling out of the Dead |
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