40 months of working my arse off I realize that I am oblivious to the pain it causes.I do not contradict that many others have had theirs drilled down and riveted to the office chairs.This is neither a smear campaign nor about cribbing about one's job. Its about the Paradise Lost. I remember once I began writing on this topic and didnt bother to complete it. I now know why. The puzzle was incomplete then.
As a boy matures into a man, a man with responsibilites, there is hardly anything that interests him. I can now empathize with my father. God knows what all ambitions he had. What all he has sacrificed to just hold the moral fibre of a famliy together. The fibre has turned into a fine fabric, ready to be of help to someone.
A chat with a friend last weekend brought back some memories flooding back. This was a totally unprecedented conversation which suddenly shook me out of deep slumber. I have lost interest in a lot of things I used to do back in school/college.May be my dark overbrooding comes right from the ill-lit alleys of numerous hospitals we visited 4 years ago. Patience is something which I exhibit these days with many things. Being a full-blood libran, I am prone start an argument. Surprisingly, these days, I find myself not interested even in these arguments.
In short, I have lost the connectivity with my inner soul. A vibrant, happening, rolling stone (No no. Not reed/grass)attitude that is visibly absent. Some say this is an indication of having matured over years. I dont know. I dont know.
I would say I am comfortably numb today.
And I realize with numbness that I am trying to run away from the serious side of life.
(End of Part - I)