Of fate, destiny and Carrot-halva


Often find it quite irking, or even blasphemous, when people take to endorsing fatalism, as an easy reprieve, to help themselves from being consumed by the spoils of their misgivings - despair, guilt and as a natural consequence, self-contempt. Destiny, more often than not, occurs to us as an afterthought - an excuse to disassociate our misled judgment from the wrong choices we crafted and the fatuous hopes we inadvertently harbored. And in the few occasions that we engage ourselves to swear by destiny before our actions, we unassumingly find ourselves only in submission to a bout of inconsequence at forging our dreams or, in most cases, mundane pragmatism.
Is fate the draconian entity that governs the course of our lives without any reference to our free will or is it merely a fabrication contrived by the imaginations of people unable to delineate the co-ordinates of their lives? Could it be the irresistible aroma of carrot-halva in the kitchen that has made me cut a long blog short or is it yet another vicious plot of destiny to have wrought on me such a fragile abstinence? I shudder to think :)!