Fiction Ravinder was a fighter. But that was once upon a time. When youth boils in the blood like a witches’ brew, it’s easy to be a fighter. Time, however, puts out the fire beneath the brew eventually. Experience, rather than time. You keep fighting with monsters for years, monsters some of whom are real, some illusions and some others are like Quixote’s windmills. Real monsters have varying motives. Some want to capture positions of power, some want to swindle money out of the system, and some others want to appear great by belittling others. Motives abound in the world of monsters. Monsters are the most motivated creatures, mused Ravinder. And you keep fighting them all through life. Fight for your dignity, for your principles, or sometimes even for your survival. And then comes a time when you give up fighting. You get used to the arrows. Your skin becomes thick enough to be a shield. Why can’t the world be a place of cooperation rather than competit
Cerebrate and Celebrate