Sunday, September 01, 2013

boy hits car

that's life as we know it or may be a little alternative in taste and style, but with no will to think further and precisely 30 seconds to decide, each moment decayed and lived its half life. i had been there years ago where nothing lasted more than the cigarette butt dying out. from what i could recall, it was always close to that and with not many seconds to spare, it was the time when i had to decide between doing it or not. it was the moment when the band chose its name. it was the moment in the story..

my work was blissfully painful- a transcendence only i could experience. fresh out of college and with high expectations of me, the pressure was nothing i thought i hadn’t been ready for. i knew i wasn't the best and neither was i the smartest - an opinion contrary to what some held. With jobs, cash and hope gone, the industry was slow and leaders were in celibacy and people were PMSing. i was told that i was lucky to have a good job that paid me decently in cash and other petty flashy paraphernalia like a visiting card. i worked for a brand consulting firm and that was flashy in itself, but besides that what flashed was nothing close to the reality.

let me tell you again about writing. the most lovely and scary thing about writing is that i only write when i feel it coming from within and not forced. i don’t own, but it owns me and yet i can force it and kill the passion in course of that. i wasn’t pleased with work. my confidence and interest bled everyday and yet, i was optimistic. i strongly felt that the business wasn’t down, but shifting and business needed to realise that itself.

my life flashed in front of my eyes in fractions of flashes. i had never thought so much about the consequences for i was never that person who needed to think twice before taking a decision whether it was rash or well thought out. it was a decision and i had to take it - my philosophy was always simple and consequences weren't my concern at all, but times had changed and so had i or maybe that's what i had taught myself to believe. i wasn't 22 anymore and i couldn't do things as i pleased for i was burdened with societal obligations. I pushed myself to my physical limits of endurance. i travelled 3 hours every day in the metro and never saw the road once. it was comfortable and air conditioned. i was always the road guy. i wasn't fond of planes and neither was i comfortable with cars. i needed to feel that breeze, wind, the sun and the dirt right against my face. i was losing interest in the other sex and i wasn't developing anything for the other either. it was a plain state of retardation or advancement from the perspective of the lowly mortal life that everyone was so proud of. it was all about comfort, utilitarian and an advanced life style and i felt like i was reading my life straight from a brochure or one of those white papers i wrote for my organisation urging people and subtly coercing them into buying things they could do without. it was peachy, but from a very advanced point of view of everyone who was alive, but to me, i was on a straight road to regression for i wasn't moving up at all. it wasn't about fast cars, cool motorbikes or heavy metal anymore. yes, my problems were nothing and they weren't problems at all.

i felt tied down, frustrated and dazed after a gap of 5 years..and it occurred to me that i had really lost a lot of sheen for giving up on myself and settling down with the world. my creators were eager to see my progenies and i wasn't bothered the least. i had no interest or love to shower, but i had learnt to pretend well. it was the same again - it was all about others just like every time.

that day, with no clarity on my side, i stood motionless in thought an action. i wasn't torn between any sense of duty or impulse because those things desired a state of comprehension - a state i wasn't quite capable of for the moment as there were other worries clouding my head. i felt that someone had hurt me and i couldn’t do anything about it. it was against my every shred of dignity and healthy conscience to take it anymore. my peers asked me straight to swallow it all. they spoke from their experiences and i respected that. i didn't have a choice, did i? i didn't have a say. i didn't have my mind. no, i didn't feel robbed. i felt raped.

when you are pushed against a corner, you tend to act desperate and you sort of lose it. i was losing it. i was desperate to get out and it wasn't about proving to the world that i was not an escapist, but for this new type of coaching that i had allowed myself to be subjected to, it was all about domestication of the old me. it was emasculation to be precise. i waited for the train at the station – lost in myself not wanting to do the impulsive. i watched the train arrive and i was felt myself slowly filling with the temptation to bunk it for an auto. i always loved the road and i missed it so much, but thoughts of the traffic at peak hour made me think twice and i had to give into the practicality of the moment. it was better if i travelled in the metro. it was safer, cleaner and faster. it was all routine - planned,  dried, soaped and bleached. i took the routine and stepped into the metro and headed to my favourite spot that was right between my two coaches. i was slow today and it seemed that everyone was in awe of that as people moved slowly into their own cocoons and none of them tried to snatch my peace. the doors shut and i travelled two stations with things running in my head - everything about that day and otherwise. boys didn’t cry..

the door was about to close any moment now and that was it. i didn't have to think to decide anymore. nothing at all.

i lived live by a simple philosophy. i lived by morals and not by rules for rules were nothing but an extension to morals and my morals were not a concoction of my own : they were generic, but strict at times. you see, i never played to win. i played to play.

i hit the train and took the auto.

p.s. – the name of the band is the title of this piece.

human kind can not gain anything without first giving something in return. in order to obtain, something of equal value must be lost. that is alchemy's first law of equivalent exchange.


shruti said...

brutally honest and honestly brutal

scenes from a memory said...

merci, bathsheba :)
glad someone said that.