Karma and its code

We live with the illusion of control—crafting plans, chasing passions, clinging to beliefs, loving some, hating others. Our world is a mosaic of viewpoints, pursuits, politics, and faiths. And our ego is built around our positions and possessions. Yet when death knocks, none of these seem to matter.

There are moments that jolt us into this realization. A man murdered on his honeymoon. A cricket team's celebration sparks a stampede, killing 11 (how ironic !) Tourists are gunned down by militants, seemingly at random. A plane crashes—not just anywhere, but onto a hospital canteen, and spares a precious few while killing.many. Civilians die in the crossfire of conflicts they neither started nor supported.

To the rational mind, it looks like chaos. But what if it's not? There must be a karmic algorithm at work—one we cannot see, let alone understand.

Karma is not about punishment or reward in a simplistic sense. It’s a web of actions and consequences, entangled across time and lifetimes. But why does it appear to act with such selective precision—saving some as if by miracle, and taking others in the most bizarre of circumstances?

There must be a pattern to this madness. I am sure there is a code beneath the chaos.

Can we ever decrypt this algorithm?

Or are we meant only to witness it—humbled, bewildered, and maybe, just maybe, a little more aware?

Perhaps we’re not meant to crack the code,

But to walk gently, knowing it’s there.

To live not in fear of when or how,

But in wonder at the why.

To meet each moment—random or fated—

With ease, not grasping.

To love, not because it guarantees tomorrow,

But because it dignifies today.

And when the algorithm runs its course,

May we not cry of chaos,

But whisper softly—

“It was written. And I walked it awake.”