The I in me……

Call it my agnostic sense of horror, or my being nostalgically sensitive, but their was something, their was something in there in the walls , in the air, there was something out their in the whole ambience….. and then i looked on the floor and i came to know that i am treading on top of the slave dungeons where the old spirits are still breathing. The famous white castle of cape coast , one of the infamouse slave castles of ghana was entering into me, with all its past gradeur and sadness. The whole castle was colored in whity white color shining from miles along the coast. Not a good choice of color when you can be seen and get hit from the battle ships no matter howmuch cannons you put along the walls, but.. perhaps it was an attempt to make the black people afraid of the white monster…or perhaps to have a contrasting color to make the blacks escape difficult. or even perhaps a try by the governer capecoast to opiumate his own human conscience………… I heard the castle architect repeating van goph’s words , ” In my own work I put my whole life in jeopardy and lost my half reason to it”……

Like the white color, everything must be having a purpose….. all the windows and the big patio opening towards the sea.. must be the outcome of the fear insticnts of the white…… if i were there i would have revolved the whole building 180 degrees towards the people and not towards the sea but perhaps i was not the white man on his own hostile made land………..

I often think about how to live life….. Living a life of POWER???? seeing things under control or … Living a life of FREEDOM???? seeing things the way I like,…. or perhaps …….of mere Living a life of UNDERSTANDING??? seeing and completing the jigsaw puzzle around …. i often apply the in-the-shoes test on different occssions on me being the white master, or what would i feel if i was the black slave….. was it just about making money with slaves… or was it the battle between the evolved inteligence with the physically strong? or is it something bigger then the aprehension of me and i ……… a chess game being played by gods on the chessboard of time………, or ants being crushed below our shoes unconsciously……. or the clouds making shapes we cannot understand….. or a dust particle in a desert……or a rain drop going to become a sea of its own kind or to disapear in desert of nothingness………… This i of me is becoming uncontrolable now, a pitiful i, though living a life of me, but not exactly I, perhaps just an I who is lost in persuit of me who is not an I…………. what is it all about……. I sometimes think i (or my me) need to stop the persuit of understanding and rather should choose one of the two words Power or freedom…….without any ifs and buts or i’s or me’s …. choosing to not to look back or becoming a statue of stone forever……….wouldnt it be good if I was a black slave or a white man tied in my own prison of physical apearance and playing destiny, would have been a true life of me and not the i playing me, but then……the audience may not see the suffering of a player lost in taking the ball towards the goal but the same time the players may not be able to live and feel the suffering of an audience, the I, who is not me and who is trapped in choices….