The Right Turn

He woke up, he looked around, he was alone and he dozed off. Just for a while. And then he was up again. He brushed his teeth, he got on his bike and got to the gym. He sweated and panted. He returned home. He stole a glance at the clock and it was time. He got on his bike. He got to work. He ran pillar to post, he negotiated, proposed, presented and pressed the Send button. He put them on conference, he gobbled down a burger between a call with his team in another region. He walked down the stairs and wiped a tear. He pushed back his seat until the seat creaked while he got into a conference call with his client. He smiled with satisfaction. He looked at the white lights and the empty room around him and slowly faded away into the night. Back home, he bathed, he cleansed, he checked mail once again and he fell asleep on his screen.

He woke up, he looked around, he was alone and he dozed off. Just for a while. And then he was up again. He brushed his teeth, he got on his bike and got to the gym. He sweated and panted. He returned home. He stole a glance at the clock and paused, looked out at the road, and it was time. He got on his bike. He got to work. He ran pillar to post, he negotiated, proposed, presented and pressed the Send button. He put them on conference, he gobbled down a sub between a call with his team in another region. He walked down the stairs and looked coldly at the dark clouds. He pushed back his seat until the seat creaked while he got into a conference call with his creative agency. He smiled with satisfaction. He looked at the white lights and the empty room around him and slowly faded away into the night. Back home, he bathed, he cleansed, he checked mail once again and he fell asleep on his bed.

 

He woke up, he looked around, he was alone and he dozed off. Just for a second. He couldn’t get himself to sleep anymore. And then he was up again. He brushed his teeth, he got on his bike and got to the gym. He sweated and panted. He returned home. He gazed at a plane landing and then pictured the road beyond his office. It was time. He got on his bike. He got to work. He ran pillar to post, he negotiated, proposed, presented, fought and pressed the Send button. He put them on conference and then on mute, he gulped down 4 cups of coffee between a call with his team in another region. He walked down the stairs and wiped a tear. He pushed back his seat until the seat creaked while he got into a conference call with his agency. He slapped himself on the back. He looked at the white lights and the empty room around him and excitedly got on his bike. He saw the turn on the left to his home and the other one, going away. He looked at his watch. Back home, he bathed, he cleansed, he checked mail once again and he fell asleep on his screen.

He woke up, he looked around, he was alone and he decided to just get up and get going.  He brushed his teeth, he got on his bike and got to the gym. He sweated and panted. He returned home, sore from the workout. He stole a glance at the clock and sat down to take a toll of things. It was time. He got on his bike. He got to work. He ran pillar to post, he debated, controlled his temper, presented and pressed the Send button. He put them on conference, he gobbled down a pack of biscuits between a call with his team in another region. He walked down the stairs and wiped a tear. He pushed back his seat until the seat creaked while he got into a conference call with his sales team. He cringed with disgust. He looked at the white lights and the empty room around him and quickly faded away into the night. Back home, he bathed, he cleansed, he checked mail once again and he fell asleep on his screen.

He woke up, he looked around, he was alone and he stared around. He liked and instantly disliked the feeling. Just for a while. And then he was up again. He brushed his teeth, he got on his bike and got to the gym. He sweated and panted, but loved it. He returned home. He stole a glance at the clock and it was time. He got on his bike. He got to work. He ran pillar to post, he presented, presented, presented and pressed the Send button. He put them on conference, he decided to remain empty stomach to keep the adrenaline going between a call with his team in another region. He walked down the stairs and hid his face behind a call which was never there. He pushed back his seat until the seat creaked while he got into a conference call with his agency. He growled in anger. He looked at the white lights and the empty room around him and slowly faded away into the night until he reached that turn again. He took the left as the rain came down. Back home, he bathed, he cleansed, he checked mail once again and could not sleep. He just could not sleep.

The next day he woke up. It was a bright morning. It was a holiday. He brushed his teeth. Made some boiling tea without milk. Stared at the blue sky from his balcony and constantly returned to that fork in the road near his office till his phone rang. He dressed and practiced his smile. He decided on the joke and cracked it the moment he met them. He ate, drank and cracked up at all the right times. They spoke about work and life and he contributed where he could. They were proud of him. He smirked and looked away whenever they mentioned plans for the next week. They drank some more later that night. They fell asleep. He slowly rode back. Collapsed on his bed. He woke up in the middle of the night. He went to the window and he finally saw the light. The bright sparkling moonlight.

He was up before anyone. He ate breakfast at a brisk pace while they slowed the day down with their conversation. He was itching and distracted. He had to go to work. They cursed and cussed. They made him swear he will quit. He promised none of it and it made them laugh. They were gone. Adrenaline pumped faster than his heart. He went to that fork and stood there for sometime. Looked at his bike and looked at the clouds and then at his ID card. It was either the raindrops or his tears but his smile never let anyone know. He dropped the card and took the right turn. He was gone..

 

 

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The Right Turn

Black Box of your soul

Sweet memories are generally laced with this poisonous element – the realization of them being in the past. So when you clear out the debris of the life that has passed you by, you need to look for your black box. The one part of your mind that will remind you of all those conversations, thoughts and aspirations you had before it all changed. It may have changed for the good or it could have changed for the worse but the exultation of that previous life sure would have died down. That’s when you pull out the black box, wipe off the grime and bang it open. Be prepared as it may not always be as Nirvanaesque as you may imagine. It maybe stark and debilitating or it may just help you realign that mind of yours which has wandered too long, made you feel cozy in this false environ you live in filled with unfounded ecstasy and camouflaged hope.

I opened my black box yesterday..

After spending years enjoying and interpreting the true value of cinema, I chanced upon a TV show’s return yesterday. A show that led me to start writing this blog in the first place and to a great extent has always shaped my thoughts about life. The show in question is ‘Californication’. I can assure you Wikipedia will do a better job of telling you what the show is about but unfortunately it will not tell you why it has always been such a profound experience for me. The protagonist of the show weirdly manages to mirror my thoughts, not necessarily my actions and in some oddly prophetic manner tends to have the same delusions and dilemmas as me. You would think it’s a case of identifying with the devil but it’s uncanny and becomes a paranormal, yet truly spiritual experience for me. It is after all my black box playing out only certain but possibly the most intriguing chapters of my life out. The constant struggle with the self is a battle well documented but when faced with this battle on a real and tangible plain, it can leave you scarred. Sometimes stronger for the long run but extremely weak and lonely in the present. Realizing that your life, decisions and judgments have amounted to the current state of affairs can always be a revelatory journey. One that can consume you or exhume something you refused to believe.

I can see so much more clearly now because I have those dreams and conversations and musings in my head now, reminded by a TV show that goes beyond the ordinary for me, by a character that follows me like a shadow. Leaving me with one thought as I quietly tuck the black box back in – what happens to that shadow when the sun sets on it?

Good Night!!

Black Box of your soul

Replaced

Back when I was 16. That lovely age when all was new and when all seemed discovered. I want to go there, sitting on a hill measuring life by the few plain parameters that made life so easily distinguished. Anguish was short lived and expectations were simple. I like the few years after too when your daily struggle left you heady with joy and your few miseries were discussed at length with your friends. Of a time when dark shadows remained in the darkness, when the questions were less and the hopes were more. When you still believed you could follow your dream even though you were not sure what it was. You would plan a life where you would leave it all and run away and then laugh at the thought of ever leaving something as perfect as the life you were living. Never contemplating, never preparing yourself for a life where a fantasy you mocked would suddenly become your escape. You would never have fathomed a time when white lights and an empty room would become your calling. Not the kind you would see in an epiphany but the one that would lead you to a false sense of success you not necessarily defined for yourself. You yearn for the time when waking up and doing your thing was simple, guided and managed by you, defined and designed by you. As the mails and pdfs and excels crowd your screen, all you see are the mountains, steaming cups of coffee, empty laptop screens and ideas bursting at the seams. You look around and realize loneliness can sometimes spill beyond the room you are sitting in. You wish and hope the mails stop, the pdfs close and the ground splits open and you realize it’s not happening. It’s all a dream point, like a point in your imagination where you get stuck for really long. You return and it’s always the way you have wanted it. Life is running that same pace again. The pace you decided, doing the things you wanted. You see trains again as you did when you were younger, you see them take you far, to the ships and the seas beyond. You breathe the gay abandon that can be life and then you are cruelly whisked away to be reintroduced to reality. A smokeless, joyless loop of unending routine and programmed moves. It begins to count for nothing and then starts to reduce you to your basic self. Strips you off all those flighty thoughts and then registers you as inactive and distraught and then finally pulls you up, shaves you and dresses you, cleans you and cleanses you and there you are.. This corporate honcho living that dream you always dreamed, flying the miles and swiping the cards and careening out of control to be mostly brought back by that good sense you have inherited from your false sense of sensibility. Suddenly you are replaced, those vivid pictures of hope and coffee and travel and deep thoughts are replaced. Replaced with this new need to be all conquering as the past becomes a joke at the golf course and life becomes an endless tale lived out by so many around you. And if you are wondering, what happened to that dreamer, well, he was suffocated so that you may live. He was replaced so that you may dream..

Replaced