My Dear Tikona
I’m sorry. I really am.
For the past three or four weeks I have been, I confess, a bit edgy. I have called up your helpline numerous times, with complaints about slow internet speeds. I have called up the person who is responsible for network connectivity in my area on his personal cellphone. I have even berated his assistants about not being able to connect to the internet on my laptop. I have disconnected and reconnected many times in an hour, and spent many an hour in running your inbuilt speed test to figure out just how fast my connection really is.
I have been frustrated, thwarted and quite frankly, screwed in my pathetic attempts at logging on to the internet.
But now, at the end of these three dark weeks, I have finally seen the light. And I want to thank you.
It took a long time coming, this transformation. The path was as rocky as I had been told it would be, and there were times when I thought salvation would not be mine. But it is all clear now. All clear.
The turning point came today morning, when I could not check my mail in the morning. I work from home, you see, so I’m left particularly helpless if I cannot find out what my assignments for the day are. Which is why I get particularly aggravated if I cannot check all my inboxes. And when I could not connect for the 4296th time, that is when realization dawned.
What, after all, is the internet? Why should I, or anybody else for that matter, try to connect to it? It’s one massive illusion, that’s what it is. That’s why they call it the virtual world – because it is yet another attempt by the universe to reveal itself as nothing but a transient, fleeting, ephemeral illusion!
And you, poor, dear blameless Tikona, you were simply playing the role of a facilitator. You were simply trying to show me the enlightened path by not letting me connect to the internet for days on end.
There I go again. I got disconnected while typing this post, and foolishly posted it without checking to see if the entire draft had been saved. It was only while reading it, after it was published, that I saw it had no concluding paragraphs at all. Earlier, I would have been frustrated. I would have hurled abuses at you, dear Tikona, and got myself into a state.
Now, I only give a seraphic smile, and try and rewrite the whole bloody conclusion. And even if this turns into failure, so what? It’s all karma.
Thank you, Tikona, thank you.
Amen, and om shanti om.
P.S. And I could upload the picture as well. But like Tikona has taught me: whatever.