Playthings

Life is a game; play it. Do we really feel it ? We forget it when we live. In making money, in building bungalow, in gathering lumps of gold; we forget that it’s too a play. Here is a little sweet poem that makes us realize: Life is a play. Everything is a play and articles we get are toys that God has gifted us.

A little child is playing in dust with broken twig; still happy in play. We live in luxury and still unhappy with all. If a child will see us he will tell us that what a stupid game we are playing. He will refuse to spoil his morning with such pebbles.

Actually we have forgotten the art of being absorbed in a play of sticks and mud. We seek costly playthings. We don’t satisfy in havings. We crave for things and rush after them. Out of experience we realize that they are unobtainable. Ultimately we lose happiness of life.

It’s called an ocean of desire in philosophy. In a frail canoe, I am struggling to cross it. In hassle I forget that this life is a play and playthings are gifts of God. We can only cross the sea if feel blessed. So accept life as a game and playthings as gifts. When we feel blessing of God in havings; weather it is a crumb or a lump; we feel happiness of play.

Here is a poem :

CHILD, how happy you are sitting in the dust,

playing with a broken twig all the morning.

I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.

I am busy with my accounts,

adding up figures by the hour.

Perhaps you glance at me and think,

"What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!"

Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.

I seek out costly playthings,

and gather lumps of gold and silver.

With whatever you find you create your glad games,

I spend both my time and my strength over things I never can obtain.

In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire,

and forget that I too am playing a game.

~ The Crescent Moon, Rabindranath Tagore