Skip to main content

Astrology or Astronomy

Bumping against old pals on Orkut, I'm made to realize how well known I was in school because of my love for the stars. Teachers knew it and someone even made special arrangements to get me inaccessible books from the library (little gestures can often be unforgettable). Dad would borrow books from his colleagues...which unfortunately were too daunting for me. Classmates quizzed me on anything and everything related to the heavens.

 

But I'm pained when people mistake astrology for astronomy. It becomes embarrassing and annoying when people ask me if I'm still interested in astrology! To me, the difference between them couldn't be more, but to many - they couldn't be more similar. Apart from sounding similar and both relating to the stars, however, I don't see anything even remotely ambiguous between them. While one is based on careful observations and scientific calculations to arrive at conclusions, the other is a mere postulation of the heavenly objects affecting daily luck of humans. Time has proven conclusively that there's no correlation between stars and human destiny, yet the gullible continue to fall pray.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

This is what Bertrand Russell said about religion...

Religion is based, I think, primarily and mainly upon fear. It is partly the terror of the unknown and partly, as I have said, the wish to feel that you have a kind of elder brother who will stand by you in all your troubles and disputes. ... A good world needs knowledge, kindliness, and courage; it does not need a regretful hankering after the past or a fettering of the free intelligence by the words uttered long ago by ignorant men.

The year that was

I'm wearing a rather striking shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today. It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still