The lonely path ahead



He pushed back his chair, removed his spectacles, turned his neck in the two possible directions, yawned and got back to staring at the screen.
Lines of his new book were right there in front of his eyes, but he couldn't decide on the ending. He's been writing it for quite sometime now, weaving new incidents into the same plot, new characters entering and exiting his story every now and then. But the ending had always remained elusive. At times he even had nightmares about not being able to finish his book for the want of a proper ending. However, he could never think of a proper ending.
He wanted it to have a dashing end which wasn't predictable. But as they put it, he was scared of making it "predictably unpredictable". So he wrote on... every evening saw him insert new people into the story and every afternoon saw him taking them out in the light of some newly thought ending. But the quest for a better end wasn't quenched. He continued writing.Mixing his emotions with those of his characters. Giving them names, traits, failures and successes out of his own life. Living many lives through them.
But this is not what he always wanted to do, how long could he keep trying to find a new ending? It was time he went ahead and lived at least one life of his own. Not the imagined lives of his characters who could walk, run, laugh, cry and strike out in anger. But he wasn't interested.
As he pushed away from the table with the three plastic fingers of his left hand and balanced the wheel chair with the remaining ones on the right, he looked out at the tinge of red covering the horizon. The story had ended long back. The sun had set. All that remained was the path ahead... the lonely path ahead. He wasn't strong enough to make the journey on his wheelchair and he wasn't weak enough to give up all he had in form of his book, his characters, his plot, his life. Turning his wheelchair back, he started typing frantically.
There has to be a better ending...

Wanting what we don't have


What is it that you don't have ?
If its Freedom, snatch it
If its Money, earn it
If its Love, deserve it
If its Time, create it
If its Attention,demand it
and...
If its Self Respect....

Go kill yourself.


All about music...

There are so many songs attached to so many memories, people, incidents and feeling and everytime you listen to them, they seem to make those feelings, thoughts and emotions, so real!
There have been songs related to every unforgettable incident in life.
Those rainy afternoons in august when my brother had first started taking guitar lessons. He used to be very possessive about his beloved instrument and I got a chance to have a go at it only when he was asleep. Another of the the sweet sacrifices you have to make for being the older one. Hence I strummed the chords when he slept. I remember mastering a little peice called kafi ( its a raag i guess) and playing it sitting on the balcony overlooking the railway track at a little distance while it rained. The cowherds managed their cattle along the bright green fields, the trees looked much greener than otherwise and I lived those few moments of self created music , intensely.
The first few days on campus, the ragging sessions and the scary recitals of the then-famous score, Baanch ke tu rehna from the movie Company, followed by those rare occasions when we grew out of our shells and walked in groups, unafraid of any 'senior', singing Jaane kya hoga rama ra, form such a precious part of my campus memories.
Then came the golden days of graduating into Hard Rock from John Denver and Cliff Richard! The whole of second year say me humming Aerosmith, Guns n Roses, Metallica, Nirvana and lots of other bands. The hours spent in front of Gupta's computer playing Max Payne and listening to Joe Satriani, Steve Vai and Jimmy hendrix.. unforgettable!
Third year saw me return to the softer version of all music, Simon and Garfunkel came into life. On the other hand Aab na Jaa became a hot favourite with a little romanticism creeping into my
mundane life. Hmmm.. but some things are not meant to last.
Soon it was time to move on, in search of more rewarding yet less demanding relationships. Soon it was time to accept and analyse the magnitude of loneliness I was destined to get used to.
Finally it was time for Boondein by silk route: a time to understand how I have whiled away the best time of my life in some of the most inconsequential pursuits. It was time to understand the value of true friends, to draw the line between friends, aquiantances and "Hi-Bye"ers.
Farewells: the feeling took a lot of time to sink in, the fact that the dream is over. And with Save tonight and Time of your life I bid goodbye to the campus.
One fine January morning I found myself on the streets of Bangalore humming Boulevards of broken dream.
Life goes on. And every song releases an imprisoned memory or a dream. And I cherish each one.

22 tango

I am 22 at last! though I remember little about the last four or five birthdays I had, one thing was common about all of them, I always had to study on my birthdays..the last three years on campus, I had exams on the third of May always, Linear Algebra in First year, Principles of mangement in second year and Prime Movers and Fluid Machines in the third year !!
Finally I had a break and it was beautifully celebrated!
All the calls and mails I had expected ( and a few that I had not :P) came in. Mom called up at the exact hour, precisely 7:10 in the morning. Somethings never change, and I am happy they don't. As fate would have it, two of my oldest friends from college also had to come down to our office and we went out for lunch.
The day was great at office, one day when I didn't write a single line of code, nor did I do anything vaguely related to the project.
The evening was the best time of the day, lovely room mates got the most delicious cake I have had in Bangalore and then we hogged on the chicken and associated stuff till we were light headed enough to dance to some obscure song playing on channel V. We went for a walk in the middle of the night and return to the room only because we were too thirsty and dehydrated.
In all, a rocking beginning of the 23rd year of life!!