This is my 29th blog post. By this month, I shall have written a total of 30 pieces of assorted content- from nostalgic to futuristic, from the personal to the political, from introspective to overly extroverted, and from the downright ridiculous to stoically serious writings that served both as an outlet to my active imagination and laxative to my otherwise constipated mind.
July 2009 also marks my 30th year on earth, at least in this current lifetime. I believe that I am an old soul who have lived this world one too many times already.
I was a Buddhist monk at the time of Siddharta Gautama, a permanent wanderer who devoted my life to the “Middle Way”, a life that is not too tight and not too loose.
I was in Poland during the Nazi period, but I was Jewish then and was imprisoned and persecuted. I don’t remember whether I survived or not.
I almost made it to Vietnam in the 1960s but I was not drafted for the war. I went to the streets with my hippie friends making ourselves busy with our protest marches and dusk to dawn parties. Peace, man.
I was a son of someone from the Soviet politburo. Our family gorged on cheese, caviar, chocolates, honey and prime beef meat almost everyday. I thought that was commonplace to our country but was later astonished to find out that many comrades cannot even buy soaps. I almost choked myself to death.
Those were just few of the many lives that I have had lived. I have done plenty and had experienced defeat and enlightenment, wealth and poverty, joy and liberation and temperance.
Living many lives also meant that I have died several times, and in differing circumstances: glorious, bloody, savage, painful, painless, heroic, triumphant and there was a time when I just disappeared only to appear again in another time, at a different place and in an altogether unusual happenstance.
I am turning thirty this month and I’m losing my mind. But it does not worry me a bit.
Because it only means that I’m getting a new one.