Such are the endeavours of human life; it excels in its own becoming. Yet, meagre if coined through the biggies like the solar system. Man’s hymns are in recluse. It is of the loving domain, the earthly. But in a moment of energetic passion, we compare it with the solar universal. Human loves are of dawn, and solar sky is dark in its reckoning. It perplexes us. Man is not a concept ‘in-itself’. The non-conceptual ground of life is the real genus. The formality of non-concept are in a ratio with concept, the man, recurring as ‘for-itself’. Earth is man’s abode. It excels to infinity, as it is spatial. Its limit is non-existent, as it conquers the space of solarity. The human abode in solarity. The spaces delinked through earthly abode are the transcendental home of mankind, the solar. The poetic home of mankind. The earthly syndrome catches fever, yet, is suited to it. Scientist expert touches its feet. Man in ratio belonging. The ground of space beyond is sweet little earth. Man’s who’s who remake the world. And it transpires to collide with other being world, the more than human state, the solar enchanting species. The galaxies and stars make our fate. It is very much the longing of earthdom. An extension of human world. Drugged state originates into darkling, though in positive tryst, looks beyond the stars, as he encapsulates it in the longing of human pathos. Solarity erupts in vain. Love for the other can’t be ratioized, yet, the visuals of galaxy travel make it close to human selfdom. Human love is dispersed in and through the solar worldhood.We travel the unknown path, with the galaxy by our side. Human abode signifies the home, while the galaxy is the path, through which our God lands. Human silliness looks forth for the earth as our only abode. But who lights the night and day, isn’t it our own fortuitous galaxy, and the accompanying solarity. Life is lived through with the human solarity.

Jeet Bhattacharya
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