Palm size story #10

Two Journal entries :

On my way to the joggers’ park, I found a Journal in the trash. After manipulating my inner conflicts, I decided to carry the journal with me. It had the following entries:

January 1, 1985

Memories of Past are like the paintings hung on walls in a museum. They cannot be changed, but can only be condoned or appreciated. It is this default setting of God that haunts me. In addition to this, one cannot debug this setting. ‘Is there a compensation ahead?’ the question is a result of not knowing the future. It is difficult for me to live between the knowing and unknowing. My life runs on two-colored platform. Either white or black, happiness or sadness. There is no scope for a grey line. The things I know, I wish I never knew and the things I do not know, I wish to know.

January 1, 2005

I think the wait has served its purpose. The tea tasted like Dettol today. I knew that my son-in-law and daughter had poured a few drops of poison into my tea. They still believe that I killed my wife .I have finally found a way to compensate all that by serving it an end. Comparing my past to a face, I feel it has survived enough of acid. Before the poison starts to spread, I wish to tell you who killed my wife. It was

He must have died. Oh Old man, why did you not write the name?? I wish I had never touched this journal. I can think of no way to feed my curiosity. He was right..I can related to his first journal entry. The things I now know, I wish I never knew and the things I do not know I wish to know