human body is finite and mind is infinite

Following line flashed to my mind few minutes back. I love these jingles :-)

"..human body is finite and mind is infinite.."

How can a finite body host an infinite mind?
Mind may die before the body but when it is functioning mind's potential is unlimited, where as body would always hit limitation.

how to be young?

People want to remain young but time does not co-operate. Many people, as they move away from the origin of life or child wood, they become feel hard to resist the lost youth. Youth, an unaffordable necessity, leads to pretension, which takes various forms like; clothes, extra marital affairs and hobby. Hobby is the most effective technique.

clothes…
Obvious method adapted to remain young is to 'appear' young; by enhancing face and clothes. Fabric can some time conceal the crack between age & thread, but sometime it may just exaggerate the contrast. My point is this is a double edges sword, one need to be careful in exercising it.

infidelity
Life is like a day hike or climbing a mountain. When you are still crawling at the foot hills and also when you are about to be done at the zenith, you ooze spirit of life. But in the middle of the day and dusk, hiker becomes thirsty, feels the grad of the backpack and starts to tread an un-marked trail, hoping to steal some excitement in a new a relation. Basically some people want to prove that “I can still get a lady/man" :-)

Physical Hobby…
Table games like: Billiards, Table tennis and chess may also do the trick.

Creative Hobby…
Hobby can help a person to show youthful ness unabashedly. Person can pour his/her perpetual teen spirit to their hobbies without getting misunderstood. Some may label you crazy, do not worry; after all, what is life without an obsession? :-)

Among all the hobbies painting, photography is literally ageless. You can do anything in the name of art. My art teacher looked to be in her 50s. When she saw a good painting in our class, she used hold the painting like a trophy and pump her fist in to air, like a teenager in a sport field.
Artist can celebrate youth through their subject. Trembling hand does not stop an Artist from portraying a tender body or picturing sunset.

Is this all called as ‘midlife crises’?
I do not really know the clinical name. After all what is in the name? :-)

Quote from Jeanne
My dearest friend Jeanne is in her 70+ and I met her on my birthday. Clinically she is hopeless. Since she is being fed artificially using tubes, her throat is dry; and in spite of this she mumbled her favourite quote “men have character lines, women have wrinkles”. Even now she seems to miss her youth and she has repeated same quote again and again several times in the past.


When it is all going end?
For many lives this unfathomable desire is perpetual; and can only be conquered by death, provided one does not believe in reincarnation.

"Tale of two cities" by Dickens - snippet1

Saying 'Tale of Two Cities' has beautifull narration is an understatement. I have gone throught this story several times and I have perpetual desire to post some paragraphs which I enjoyed reading most.

"...
A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature isconstituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, thatevery one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret;that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; thatevery beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there,is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!Something of the awfulness, even of Death itself, is referable tothis. No more can I turn the leaves of this dear book that I loved,and vainly hope in time to read it all. No more can I look into thedepths of this unfathomable water, wherein, as momentary lightsglanced into it, I have had glimpses of buried treasure and otherthings submerged. It was appointed that the book should shut witha spring, for ever and for ever, when I had read but a page. It wasappointed that the water should be locked in an eternal frost, whenthe light was playing on its surface, and I stood in ignorance on theshore. My friend is dead, my neighbour is dead, my love, the darlingof my soul, is dead; it is the inexorable consolidation andperpetuation of the secret that was always in that individuality,and which I shall carry in mine to my life's end. In any of theburial-places of this city through which I pass, is there a sleepermore inscrutable than its busy inhabitants are, in their innermostpersonality, to me, or than I am to them? .."