PROLOGUE

MAN AND HIS STATE

He is made of a compound of ingredients of odd characteristics ever at war with one another. Nor is the capable of subduing the forces - internal and external, diametrically opposed with one another and are fighting eternally non-stop. He is a puppet in their hands and drawn towards them by a string fastened to his nose. He is helpless, comparable to a rudderless boat tossing in the mid-sea amidst razing tempests. Pitiable is his lot, and unbearable is the sight of the misery, he is dragging on daring his earthly sojourn - fed on water of affliction and bread of sorrow. 

Does he deserve sympathy? Why has he lost his paradise? Is his plight thrust upon him, or self-wrought? Would he ever regain his former glory as enjoyed in the garden of Eden? Who would lift him? When would he reach his blissful destination? what is he expected to do now to tide over the crisis?

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