This should be the beginning of a long cherished desire of a broken man. Unaided and alienated from his likely milieu, he is living his droning life with the longing to share some of the thoughts and ideas which once was the stimulus of many of his unfinished actions.
This should also be the beginning of a quest for excellence of the human kind, a living page to inform and exchange the immense cerebral assets nurtured by this lovely planet; so old yet so youthful everyday.
This should also be the beginning of a process to place uncomfortable questions in front of our somewhat weird society we live in: political, social and cultural. There are individuals veiled among the mass who enjoy daring the big brother, who may or may not be watching.
The broken man is well aware about his own hypocrisy but all together attentive about others too. The method he wants to follows is neither hard nor too odd. Whatever you do, try to know what you are doing. You may or may not have an acceptable answer to the why. Those who know the answer are thus special. He believes that this is an adequate and honest method of action. He wishes to continue with it.
A little poem to end with. This is a translation of Shyamal Jana’s Bengali poem:
my love gone with the water flow
still it adores the river thou.
