Evanescence

Time is still. The hands on the clock just refuse to budge.. Every second is followed by a pregnant pause. A gap between a tick and a tock.

Is it apprehension or fatigue?

But one thing is certain. We both are unable to over come our ennui.

The clock is fortunate. It has a fixed path.

Some times its good to have no option.

Recently a school mate sent a mail after almost twenty years. He wrote that he has been working in the same company for over twenty two years. I almost feel jealous.

I am depressed. No, I do not suffer from bipolar disorder.

But there comes this moment in every person’s life when he’s on the cross roads . you are torn between adventure and the mundane. I had my chance.

I chose adventure.

Its not that I repent. Given a chance I may still go for the same. I feel enriched with all that I experienced.

But highway driving can be exhausting. There are only so many highways you can conquer. And then you pine for a destination.

A friend yesterday swatted a fly. That drove him to the question why am I born?

Some day to be swat by the cruel hands of destiny. Just like a fly?

What is life? A cupboard full of trophies? Trophy for cramming, another for garnering wealth disproportionate to the requirements, a trophy for copulating like an animal and breeding like a rabbit ?

Can we even claim to be superior to animals?

Myriad questions like the multiple heads of a hydra. No answers.

I read on the website of a famous guru the joys of a sunset. How can sunset give you joy.

I write on his blog. No reply. Probably faith is about optimism. Faith is about what else – FAITH. You just accept what is told. No place for doubters like me.

Nishant ( yes the same lad who fudges his report card and calls himself the end of darkness. Read my earlier posts! ) has a pertinent point. He is a sprightly lad. He doesn’t wait for your question. He just gives his advises.

Haven’t seen him for quite some time now.

Probably doesn’t eat chaat on juhu anymore. So doesn’t remember the crumpled newspaper that is my blog!

Youth can be innocent. And yet that innocence can camouflage a sharp mind.

He once called me an entertainer. I like that description. Yes indeed. Writers are exhibitionists. Like a stripper in a club.

A stripper bares her body. You emotions. Both long for applause.

I am ashamed. I have to surrender to a youth’s random comment and validate my existence?

But we are in a quick fix world. The two minutes syndrome;

The Pavlovian syndrome ! a predictable response.

We are in a hurry to label.

And so for want of a better definition, I accept this one.

My life for now is that of an entertainer. And I have a job.

To entertain.

Just like the hands of a clock that have to keep ticking.

No questions asked no answers given.

And when your time is up, you just fade away.