I recently read an article about hypocognition. It is the state where a feeling, a concept, or a phenomenon cannot be put into words. For example, what's the word for the vague uncomfortable feeling of sitting on a seat that is still radiating warmth from someone else’s bottom? It is called Shoeburyness. I had such an experience, not shoeburyness, that I have had in many a wonderful occasions. Hypocognition happened.
I think, therefore I am sometimes able to enjoy certain moments of exquisite intellectual pleasure of becoming aware that a completely unrelated person in the world, dead or alive, has resonated with my thoughts. Once in a bed I thought: "There are certain things in the world which will not bend to force. Things that cannot be acquired by power, but are presented by faith and happiness. Love! I strongly believe that love is for those who deserve it. The wealthiest human cannot find an ounce of love any of the shops in the world. The strongest human can never feel love through arm wrestling. Love cannot be snatched, bought or bartered. That's where the satisfaction of giving takes birth.
Books are wonderful objects. My friend might think me queer to call it an object. People think books have feelings. So do I. Currently, I am reading Siddhartha by Herman Hesse. Today, I read this:
Siddhartha : "Oh, he's strong, the Samana, and he isn't afraid of anything. He could force you, beautiful girl. He could kidnap you. He could hurt you."
Kamala : "No, Samana, I am not afraid of this. Did any Samana or Brahman ever fear, someone might come and grab him and steal his learning, and his religious devotion, and his depth of thought? No, for they are his very own, and he would only give away from those whatever he is willing to give and to whomever he is willing to give. Like this it is, precisely like this it is also with Kamala and with pleasures o love. Beautiful and red is Kamala's mouth, but just try to kiss it against Kamala's will, and you will not obtain a single drop of sweetness from it, which knows how to give so many sweet things! You are learning easily, Siddhartha, thus you should also learn this: love can be obtained by begging, buying, receiving it as a gift, finding it in the street, but it cannot be stolen. In this, you have come up with the wrong path. No, it would be a pity, if a pretty young man like you would want to tackle it in such a wrong manner."
What do we call it? Herman Hesse and I thinking about same topic? I don't have a word for it, so I am going with…
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