Don't care about me...

It's strange... the word 'freedom'. Just a really small thing can take it away from you, and you don't even get to know. You never even turn back to look when your freedom was being dragged away from your body. You were probably walking in the opposite direction.

Freedom.

What is it? What does it mean, what does it imply? Being who you are, like Morrison and Osho say. Fine, accepted. True. It is really just about it what freedom means.

But that's not easy is it?

There's a certain way people have seen you, a certain way you've behaved with them, spoken to them, made them feel... whatever... And suddenly one day you decide you wanna be you.

You obviously can't do it.

You just can't. First of all, there'd be this fear of losing a lot of people, coz they'd obviously think you've just gone completely berserk. And secondly, there'll be a major confusion in your head as to who the real you actually is. Coz so far, all you've done is pretended. Your mask has, in fact, become you.

What takes away our freedom is really the fear of losing the ones we love. There's actually no second bullet to that list.

Imagine you're all alone in this world. Just imagine. No father, no mother, no brothers no sisters, no friends, no lovers, no husbands, no wives... No one. Think.

That's when you'll probably realise the beauty of the impulse. It's a different matter really that I think it's the Indians who don't, or rather have not been raised in an environment where impulse is actually considered a good thing. They term it brash, carelessness, and irresponsiblility, while it's really just impulse.

Freedom.

What is it that stops us from saying what's in our hearts? What is it that makes us lie? What is it that stops us when we are sure we want to quit our sick monotonous crazy jobs to do something totally different, totally crazy, totally impulsive - it's there, right in our heads, we believe we can pull it off, we believe we can take the leap and then build our wings on the way down, we believe we can do it, but suddenly something pushes that thought somewhere behind, and we whisper out, don't be stupid.

It's the fear of failure. Not in your own eyes, but in the eyes of the people that you care about, or the people who care about you. Had you been alone, all alone, you would have taken the leap long long ago.

Freedom.

Where is it?

I don't want to think before doing anything. Not think at all. Before doing anything. Even the smallest of things like for example I should write this well so that people like what I write. No. Not think at all.

The mind has no work in our lives. None whatsoever. It's just the heart. The minute you start thinking, you start retracting. It's a fact, believe it or not.

I've always said, freedom to me means not caring about anyone, and more importantly, not being cared about. At all... think I am dead, or I was never there, or I just don't exist. Don't ask me how I'm feeling when I'm sick, don't tell me that you care coz I won't say it back to you and that would make me feel guilty, or I would have to say it back coz you said it. Why is saying anything neccesary at all anyway. Isn't it about the feeling?

Leave me, I say.

I'll crib, I'll cry, I'll be sad... but I'll be free. Free of trying to convince you that I love you, free of having to help you out whenever you think you can't sort it out alone, when you actually can, free of being who you want me to be, free of being who I have shown you to be...

Be with me, all of you, anyone, whoever... but be with me free. Absolutely free. And let me be...

Absolutely free.

We'll cross through this life knowing there is nothing we want...

...But the freedom to jump into a fire...

...Just to see how we burn.