Jeane at it again

Jeane was sitting comfortably in her bedroom, humming her little tune, when she thought of something. Do people base their own opinion on other peoples views? Are we dependent on others for our perspective?  Are we scared to take out our view from  dusty cupboard because it may be rejected? Do we care so much about what others think. If others hate magenta coloured thoughts and we love it, we agree that magenta thoughts are absolutely horrid. I mean our we scarred of ourselves. Maybe magenta is a genius thought. Newton and all other people who discovered stuff were not scared of colouring their world different. People don't always have to agree.

Thoughts just come to Jeane

Jeane was sitting quite comfortably in the verandah, humming her little tune when a thought struck her. She realised that Siddhartha had not just left behind his worldly palace and luxuries to pursue enlightenment and ultimately become The Buddha. He had also left behind his wife and child. 


So what if he hadn't become The Buddha? He would be another ascetic who shrugged of his responsibilities. What if he hadn't left? Well, someone else would have created Buddhism or any other "ism" for all of us(or some of us) Some bachelor perhaps who had no responsibility but his own.


He was a prince so I guess his child would have been brought up well, his wife looked after.


What about other mortals who are the only roti winners of the family and who leave everything behind to catch up with enlightenment?  What good will this enlightenment do to wives with zero income who need to feed children?


Jeane wonders.

Jeane

Jeane was sitting quite comfertably in the class, humming her little song when someone sitting in the very behind,far away; emmited some kind of weird sound. It was a giggle, Jeane deciphered. To jeane's horror, the giggling didnt stop. The person from the far giggled at everything. Everything was funny. But when everything is funny nothing is funny any longer. Jeane sighed and waited for eternity for the class to get over.

Jeane's adventures

Jeane was sitting quite comfortably in the bus, humming her little song; when a lady stood beside her and put her potbelly on Jeane's shoulders. The potbelly sat quietly on the already  burdened with cardigan shoulder and its discomfort began(the shoulder's not the potbelly's). It is quite obvious that heavy potbellys  protruding out of not- so- young- pretty- ladies are not comfortable pillows for young shoulders!