Lately I’ve been thinking about some things consistently. Well this is how it began. A little background before I go on. Following is my routine (I do have a lot of time to think of useless things):
1. Every morning I wake up at around 8 AM (don’t be jealous, I am late already by that time) with just 40 minutes to get ready (hence no time to think)
2. At sharp 8.45, I am out on the street waiting for some auto wala to be kind enough to take me to the railway station. (They, like the ones in every city, have some inherent problem. They don’t want to go where you have to go.)
3. Waiting for the train at around 8.55. Now this is my thought provoking moment. This is where I think about the things I would be writing here. The travelling part is one thing I would never get used to (in fact I would not even want to). You just cannot avoid the stink of some hideous hair oil from the person standing in front of you (me being a taller than most of the people, or about the same height, makes it all the more inexorable) and to add to it, the sweat that you share with everyone around you. Oh yes!!! forgot to mention the layer of red on the tracks, platforms, walls, stairs and almost everything that is public (couldn’t sleep for almost a month because of these sights in my head).
4. Reaching office at around 9.27 (JIT).
5. Office, the best part of the day. I don’t mind working hard, especially if it’s the kind of work I like (as of now). I don’t mind, because it helps me not to think of the dim witted things. And yes, people find it a little too sadistic, guess I am a sadist, I like venting out my frustration at the vendors when they do something wide of the mark.
6. Office done, same old train stuff and then back home.
7. Coming back home SUCKS. I have absolutely nothing to do, hence the same old thinking thing starts (Seems i’ll die of brain cancer).
Well this is very much how I spend my weekdays. Weekends?? It’s simple. Refer to point No. 7
Now, coming back to what I consistently think. All this that I am doing all day started to make no sense to me. What I see here is that I would work, earn some good money, change my job, earn more money, marry, spend money on my family, make some kids, spend more money, grow old, won’t have much money, and finally die, doesn’t matter how much money I am left with. This is crazy shit. All this makes no sense. This is not what I want from my life. I don’t just want to work hard to earn and spend and live a life of a normal man. But at the same time I don’t even know what I’d do with my life if I don’t do this. And there is something else to it. I may start enjoying what I am doing and then finally i'll want to do more of this. But doesn’t that mean that I’ve compromised with the circumstances. It’s all about compromising. I let go of my lover. I guess I didn’t fight hard enough to get her, neither did she. They say it’s just one short life, right? Why so many compromises when it’s actually this short. Someone told me yesterday how this famous guy in a band died from stroke during his sleep. Well I am to die some day, maybe soon, maybe later, maybe before I get old or maybe now, while I am typing, I don’t know. Too many maybes, well that's the whole point. There would always be these "Maybes". For example, "Maybe if I do this, I would have a better tomorrow", but dude, what if not? Maybe the option you’ve let go was the better one, in fact the best one. Why can’t I be happy now, accept things as they come and get what I want (not saying that I don’t want to work. I understand how important money is). Why can’t I be with the people I love, why do I have to stay away from my parents? What good would this money do, if I or they would no longer be there? I would just be left with one head full of regrets of not being with them longer, or not doing things differently when the time was right. I don’t know, all this is too confusing. Success to me is no Bill Gates. I want no 3 letter status. A peaceful, complete and a satisfied sleep would define my concept of happiness and success (Quality of life is directly proportional to the quality of sleep, I think). I miss my mom, my dad, my girl, miss my car too, not to forget my bed, miss the clean air, miss the coffee, miss sharing my bed, miss my mother’s touch, miss 'HER' motherly touch, miss kissing her hands, her forehead too, miss the hug, miss my rash driving, miss those immature races with Hondas and Hyundais with my little 800 cc car, miss the loud rock and country music I played in my car, those intimate moments with my lover, miss playing basketball, miss those long, hands in hand stress free walks, miss talking on phone for hours and hours together, miss the dozing offs while on phone, miss good food, hence, I miss a good night sleep.
