Taxi to Space

What does it all mean? The reactivation of my blog just because I have downloaded an app to do it on the go doesn't mean anything at all.  Yesterday I was in a fever. The kind that brings on mild delirium and delusions of grandeur. I must have thought for r a moment that this was going to be my big chance.  The come back.  But it probably is not.  The antibiotics are exorcising the fool in me. My self worth should recede to what it is normally in a few days. And then, this blog will go back into hibernation.

On the day that my grandfather died, biggest rocket our country has ever launched rose into space. Riding on solid boosters and cryogenic engines, GSLV MARK iii made a glorious arc into heaven. Now,   my grandfather didn't believe in heaven. Neither was he a great admirer of science. His forte was history, things dead and gone. But I'd like to link him with that rocket. I'd like to imagine him being on that empty crew module which was carried into space. A giant cosmic taxi which dropped him off beyond the stratosphere.

Later, I spend an hour or two googling the  golden record on the Voyager and the plaques on the Pioneer missions. They are these things we send into space in vain hopes that the existence of humanity might be stretched farther into the reach of some other sentience. A bottle in the ocean,  Carl Sagan called it.  And i wondered; these things were sent up when my grandfather was in his prime. I don't know why I think this way.  Of late I'm developing a tendency to see my grandfather, the things that he used to do in everything around me. I hope it all will pass.