Monday, July 24, 2006
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Too Late?
Disclaimer: Make a tired and frustrated person to watch 15 Park Avenue, and this is what you get. Read at your own risk.
He had it enough. He could take it no longer. It was one of those days when nothing goes right. He had been facing problems from long. But things were getting messier each passing day. Each day he could feel life was strangling him. He did not know how long he could hold it off. He needed someone with him at that moment. But he knew that such a thing was nothing sort of a miracle.
Whenever he needed someone with him, it would never happen. Not that he did not have friends. He had plenty of them. All of them needed him when in trouble. But whenever he needed them, he could find no one. But he did not complain. He had learnt not to expect things to work your way. But this time things were getting too harsh. He needed help.
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had been trying to sleep from the past couple of hours. But sleep seemed to evade him. Thoughts flew into his head of the days when he used to sleep with no worries. Those days were gone forever.
He realised that it was no good trying to sleep. He got up and moved into the bar section in his house. He never drank. The section was meant for his guests only. But today was different. He helped himself with some drink. He needed it tonight.
It was nearly morning. He was still confused. He had thought about it the whole night. He had thought that he could handle it. But things were getting on his nerves now. He could not bear it any longer. His life was pointless. There was nothing left in life for him now.
Suddenly he stood up. He knew what he had to do. He walked up to the top floor of the building. As he reached the top, he could feel the cold breeze hitting hard on his face. It would be daybreak any moment. But he did not wait to savour the moment. He walked to the end of the building. He had made up his mind. He closed his eyes.
As he fell, he opened his eyes. He was basking in the first rays of the sun. He could feel the chillness in the wind being sweeped away by the early morning glory. Then it hit him. He knew what he was missing. He remembered the joyous moments of his life. He knew what it takes to be happy. The times when he had played in the first rains, the times when he felt the first flakes of snow melt on his body, the times when he walked on the beaches. These were moments of true joy.
He knew it was too late now. Or was it really too late?
He had it enough. He could take it no longer. It was one of those days when nothing goes right. He had been facing problems from long. But things were getting messier each passing day. Each day he could feel life was strangling him. He did not know how long he could hold it off. He needed someone with him at that moment. But he knew that such a thing was nothing sort of a miracle.
Whenever he needed someone with him, it would never happen. Not that he did not have friends. He had plenty of them. All of them needed him when in trouble. But whenever he needed them, he could find no one. But he did not complain. He had learnt not to expect things to work your way. But this time things were getting too harsh. He needed help.
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had been trying to sleep from the past couple of hours. But sleep seemed to evade him. Thoughts flew into his head of the days when he used to sleep with no worries. Those days were gone forever.
He realised that it was no good trying to sleep. He got up and moved into the bar section in his house. He never drank. The section was meant for his guests only. But today was different. He helped himself with some drink. He needed it tonight.
It was nearly morning. He was still confused. He had thought about it the whole night. He had thought that he could handle it. But things were getting on his nerves now. He could not bear it any longer. His life was pointless. There was nothing left in life for him now.
Suddenly he stood up. He knew what he had to do. He walked up to the top floor of the building. As he reached the top, he could feel the cold breeze hitting hard on his face. It would be daybreak any moment. But he did not wait to savour the moment. He walked to the end of the building. He had made up his mind. He closed his eyes.
As he fell, he opened his eyes. He was basking in the first rays of the sun. He could feel the chillness in the wind being sweeped away by the early morning glory. Then it hit him. He knew what he was missing. He remembered the joyous moments of his life. He knew what it takes to be happy. The times when he had played in the first rains, the times when he felt the first flakes of snow melt on his body, the times when he walked on the beaches. These were moments of true joy.
He knew it was too late now. Or was it really too late?
Friday, May 12, 2006
Mr. Patch
Me and Mr.Patch have had a great affinity with each other since the day we met. We had a grand introduction with each other. I still remember that day. I was 7 years old. And my dad decided to teach me to ride a cycle. I had been to my cousin's place to get his cycle. After an hour of serach in his garage, topped with a many cobweb cleaning, we managed to find his cycle lying is one small corner nicely camoflaged with the walls (means that its all rusty and nearly falling to pieces, coz the walls were painted brown). After we managed to extract it from the corner, we found that both its tyres were busted. Now this is a grand intro, isnt it? I had met Mr.Patch even before I knew to ride.
After that day, me and Mr.Patch used to meet each other nearly every week. My cousin's cycle was very fond of Mr.Patch and made sure that me and Mr.Patch did manage to spend quite a long time together. After a series of crashes and mis-adventures, I finally managed to learn cycling.
After lots of pleads and persuasions, I managed to convince dad to get me a new cycle. I got my new Atlas cycle when I was 10 years old. I said a happy farewell to my old cycle, and hoped that I had finally got rid of Mr.Patch. But it turned out that after spending more than 3 years with me, Mr. Patch could not let go of me so easily. I managed to meet Mr. Patch the very next week I got my Atlas. But one thing was sure, the frequency with which we used to meet did get reduced to once a month.
When I was 12, we moved out of Bangalore, and settled in Udupi. But the bonding between me and Mr.Patch had grown so strong that now we were inseparable. We started to meet atleast 10 times a month. I was a regular customer at the mechanic next door. I had a shrewd feeling that he could feed his family just by the money he earned from me. But whatever be the case, Mr.Patch did make me and that mechanic pretty good friends.
When I was 17, I decided that it was time to say bye-bye to my Atlas and get myself a new cycle. So, my Atlas paved way for a new Hero Ranger. But whatever come and go, nothing could come in between me and Mr.Patch. We shifted our house again, and this time too Mr.Patch made sure that me and the mechanic became fast friends. Although the frequency of our meetings were reduced, it was far from over.
And after 5 years with my Hero Ranger, I moved on to my bike, a Pulsar. I hoped I had got rid of Mr.Patch finally. But he did prove me wrong. I met Mr.Patch again after 7 months I got my bike. And after that, the visits started to get regular. I met Mr.Patch 3 more times in a span of just 2 months. Our last visit happened yesterday. I dont know when Mr.Patch will visit me next, but I surely dont want that meeting to happen even in the distant future. What do you have to say Mr.Patch?
After that day, me and Mr.Patch used to meet each other nearly every week. My cousin's cycle was very fond of Mr.Patch and made sure that me and Mr.Patch did manage to spend quite a long time together. After a series of crashes and mis-adventures, I finally managed to learn cycling.
After lots of pleads and persuasions, I managed to convince dad to get me a new cycle. I got my new Atlas cycle when I was 10 years old. I said a happy farewell to my old cycle, and hoped that I had finally got rid of Mr.Patch. But it turned out that after spending more than 3 years with me, Mr. Patch could not let go of me so easily. I managed to meet Mr. Patch the very next week I got my Atlas. But one thing was sure, the frequency with which we used to meet did get reduced to once a month.
When I was 12, we moved out of Bangalore, and settled in Udupi. But the bonding between me and Mr.Patch had grown so strong that now we were inseparable. We started to meet atleast 10 times a month. I was a regular customer at the mechanic next door. I had a shrewd feeling that he could feed his family just by the money he earned from me. But whatever be the case, Mr.Patch did make me and that mechanic pretty good friends.
When I was 17, I decided that it was time to say bye-bye to my Atlas and get myself a new cycle. So, my Atlas paved way for a new Hero Ranger. But whatever come and go, nothing could come in between me and Mr.Patch. We shifted our house again, and this time too Mr.Patch made sure that me and the mechanic became fast friends. Although the frequency of our meetings were reduced, it was far from over.
And after 5 years with my Hero Ranger, I moved on to my bike, a Pulsar. I hoped I had got rid of Mr.Patch finally. But he did prove me wrong. I met Mr.Patch again after 7 months I got my bike. And after that, the visits started to get regular. I met Mr.Patch 3 more times in a span of just 2 months. Our last visit happened yesterday. I dont know when Mr.Patch will visit me next, but I surely dont want that meeting to happen even in the distant future. What do you have to say Mr.Patch?
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