Brahma Bridge

I often wonder where I am headed. And wondering I also send a thought or two to the question of where is it that I am coming from. And the question of where do I fit in the larger scheme of things. Or whether there is any ‘larger scheme of things’. I think these thoughts in all humility knowing well that many, more capable and more evolved folk, have thought them over. And thought them well. But that still doesn’t stop me from thinking them. Because these questions are part of my DNA. And only I can answer them for myself. So I seize the day… and think.

There’s this bridge at the camp which is part of the ‘camp deal’. It’s called a Burma Bridge and it gets it name from the WW II crossing over device that the Indian (British) army used to, well, get across in treacherously terrained Burma.

At the camp this crossing over device is called Brahma Bridge. And I have over these past two weeks developed a fondness for this name. Those who know me must be smiling here sensing that this fondness is very ‘me’. At night when my head is cocked up to look at the night sky, the idea of Brahma Bridge becomes clearer to me as a device meant for crossing over to the stars. At the end of which is standing the four-headed god, sizing me up with his eight eyes. Seeing whether I qualify for the crossing over.