I love the commute I take every morning from home to office everyday morning. Switch on the radio and begin contemplating. Guess the only time when work is not running on my mind. And it is beautiful the kind of insights one gets when he (she too... just in case this becomes another case of flaming.) runs on tangents of thoughts.
Here is the latest one which more or less answers the recent spate of angry vicious voices echoing around for my blood and the chants of voodoo black magic shit putting pins in dummies which basically looks like shit (yes, I do resemble something of that sort, not to impressive I see, am sure my room-mates will provide irrefutable evidence on the fact that I stink... pun intended) . A broken heart leads to many other broken hearts. Now as am writing this I am wondering if there is a positive side to the whole deal. But can't really think about it right now.
It is always a surprise what a broken heart is capable of doing. Always. Look at me for instance, become a OCD who insists on cleaning all the vessels in the house before I retire at 4 in the morning because I can't go to sleep even after finishing a bottle of rum every other day. Of all the people I have become a workaholic. Never knew this day would arrive anytime this lifetime. But it did. And I think am still lucky on that front on issues like these which would otherwise fuck people up you know. I mean I could have become a stalker, ready to throw vile words, ready to shout for blood, I could have easily cried myself hoarse (horse? nah! I do sound like a very unique blend of Donald Duck meets the frog on NGC), I could have done a million things. But I chose to burn myself out with work. Work towards the 3 bedroom apartment I have been dreaming about. Get those modern modular kitchen. Get a 4 post huge ass bed for the master bedroom. Get hookahs for the entertainment room, stack it with awesome movies. Have 2 TVs, one in the master bedroom, and one in the Entertainment room. Learn to be cordial with the neighbors. Try to change into the chappals instead of walking around the house in my shoes. Basically do just about everything I dreamed I would do minus the other person who was supposed to design the master-bedroom. And yes, I will try and keep the vessels in which I make non-veg separate. Spit the seeds from the fruits am eating (grapes/watermelon/orange et. al) all over the room, thinking am the African pygmy from Phantom. And then realize that since there is nobody to clean it up, I would eventually get up from my comfy cozy setting and go ahead and give the place another swipe from top to bottom. I don't want the house to be looking like a mess when king-kong walks in now do I? =)
Oh yes the Dog will come. But not as soon as I move in there. But after couple of years. I need to have some time alone. And then comes the dog. Now these were dreams of 2 people together. And dreams are all I have now. And I am not sharing it with anybody. I think I have finally decoded the whole pattern of broken relationships. I tried to share these dreams. But I was never was comfortable with it all from the beginning with sharing it somebody else. And as soon as they made it their own I used to get jealous, so I did what every kid whose favorite thing is in danger, I ran. I ran for my dear life. Cos nobody and I mean nobody is allowed to play with my things, and say that they are mine. Only my best friend can. And thats not going to happen. Cos my best friend found another best friend. And am still left playing with my toys and hoping that my best friend will come back one day and play all day and night long as we promised. In the mean time I have tried playing with my toys with other kids, but either they are mean, or crazy, or weird, or they are just plain boring. And I take my toys and I leave.
I am just a kid who is carrying with life, with a few toys to play with, trying to keep up a few promises he made to himself, waiting. Waiting for his friend to come back so that the smile he now sports which don't really reach his eyes do, and he starts jumping up and down like its snowing on Christmas morning, or lighting up 10,000 wala on a diwali night, or hitting people on the bald head with water balloons on holi. Or like the time I got my first zippo, or when I finally saved up and sweet talked mom to give me extra money to go buy Aviator glasses, or when talking about Ajit Agarkar.
I am just a Kid. Don't scold me. Don't hurt me. I meant no harm. I was just playing with my toys. I did not mean to hurt you. I will not cry even if you hit me but I will remember the pain for a really long time. I will not lie. I will be a good boy. I will clean up after I have dinner. I will not wear shoes in the house. I will try and not smoke so much. I promise I will study and work really hard and make you proud. Am sorry. I am just a kid.