I like them stars. They
exude an aura of panache and vivacity. Considering the on-goings of my life, it
does offer some - sparkles. So why are not things a cakewalk? Don't we crave
for glitz, glamour, moolah? Perhaps, yes.
I too need my bank
accounts over flowing. Support my expenditures and have guilt free luxuries and
enough money to take a trip to Mars and back. Even when life revolves a full
360, it does end at degree 0. Old turkey
buzzer! All I wanted to do was fly high. But why do I lust for the holy tender?
Perhaps it is a defense mechanism. To involve myself with something
unattainable thereby wading my mind away from the permanent lull. Am I able to
attest my paramount attention to the current impending pressures? No. I am just
dead boring. Period.
I often become impaled
with questions countering my meaning of relativity and existence in this very
competitive and yet addictive world. World is beautiful, yes. But I am not. I
like ugly and I prefer it this way. With the sudden explosive need to define things,
label brands and invent new definitions, perhaps behind all this hoopla are we
not forgetting one major remedy - patience? Can't we just be patient and not
rush in to things for a change. In many ways, I feel like one of the background silent
performers - the junior guild of artists. Whimsical and yet the sutradhaar. Oui, I would like to be the
one.
I have been always a
go-getter. Taking my own sweet time adjusting to things and yet getting
acquainted only with the mere definitions. A four letter nuclear bomb, filled
with nothing but selfless passion, sacrifice and mutual acceptance. Why do we
need a companion, a confidant, a consort? Isn't the whole idea of falling head
over heels overly exaggerated or just a cock and bull story? Though vague and
limitless, why can't I escape from its sheer exuberance and infectious aura. It
is cold and yet I feel warm deep down within. I feel so medieval. Imagine being
teleported to the La Belle Époque, an
era introducing bohemian attitude to the mindsets of the orthodox pan-Europeans
or simply being in a trance by the sheer cosmic beauty while swimming in kṣīradhi or
Kshira Sagar. Though urban, I am
still that unabashed simple middle class guy who craves for Ghathiyas or glucose biscuits with chai. Want some?
I don't
know my strengths. What I do know are my vulnerabilities. They are not one and
can smoothly flow like the ever flowing Ganges. I sometimes wish to go on a
excursion to the Himalayas and be lost, forever. Imagine, the feeling of peeing
amidst the panoramic beauty of the snow clad peaks or chanting mantras in a
monastery. A place devoid of the concrete jungles, devilish mind boggling
gossip rants and subjecting myself to only sattvic lifestyle. No cottage cheese, No
soda pop. No moral bindings, just me and God. Can then I be humble? Maybe, yes.
My current
state is vulnerable. I am frail and not at my sunny best. It is almost like I
like a lame duck waiting for my fag end like a cross - over ignored superstar
counting his days. Sigh! I almost pity myself. I need some inspiration, a role
model or maybe, I just want to go incommunicado and start all over again. Is
such kind of a tempting offer too hard to ignore. At this period, maybe yes. I
don't think I can afford to execute my dreams. Yes, I too have dreams. Big
ones, stupid ones. I am the lone traveller yearning for social harmony and
liberty from myself. Boring. Yes, I am.
So do I
deserve anyone? A question rummaging my head like a knife stuck in cold butter.
Yes, deep down within, however I deny, but I need someone. Someone being there,
walking towards the unknown together with a bottle of elixir and hard coded
secrets. I need someone to hold, embrace and understand my on-goings. It is a
shit show, but I am a selfish ass dude. I cry the foulest when I see people in
distress. Makes me want to tear myself and give up my all. But why am I
boastful. Who cares? This is my space, I am my own created shitzu. Ace up!
What if
genitals were pronounced "geynitels". Ass pronounced as
"ehss". Yes as "S" or I would end each sentence with a
trademark "da" or "na." Would it not be funny when in
thesis (say), I am giving my life's worth speech and amidst the crowd, someone
just says "Boobs." I literally feel sorry for myself at this very
moment. Sigh!
- Siddhesh
twitter.com/siddheshgarg
