an avarage day

after eons i received a message with said good morning in so many words, loaded with hopes and wishes.
what does a good morning feel like? well they all feel the same really.. rushing to work half-asleep, blabbering about things done and undone the previous day, rush for snacks and emails to be answered., before you realise the morning is gone and it's now an average day. endless rounds of coffee and stolen (not kisses but) goodies from some cubicle to munch, work in between and all around, mails to read and mails to write, these are bad-sinful times .
it's difficult to judge good from bad..yeah we need our next messiah, maybe he could do some mailing and things will become peaceful once again.People will know their station in life once again, there won't be this mad rush to move up the ladder, there will be (not glass but) ceilings for everyone concerned and everyone will be happy. we want our shepherd to guide us to the (butchery?) holy destination. we want no war , we want love and faith to prevail.
yesterday i met some executives drawing plans for refurbishing their new workplace, with everything that should reflect class, being (rather unfortunately) in the know, to an extent, of how things stand for the enterprise, i couldn't help but admire the serene calm on their faces. I remembered the noblemen on titanic preferring to sink in dignity rather than debase themselves with lifeboats and ilk which promised them not much anyway, admittedly.here these are, the calm sheep led by a know-it-all shepherd, to somewhere at least
maybe i am mistaken here though, maybe the sheep have lost faith in shepherd but they don't want the first ones to cross the line, or they wait for alternative routes to open up till the heard breaks up, so many permutations and combinations before one must lose hope.
It's supposed to be an average day with a good morning so i guess gloom has had more than it's share. on a happier note, my elderly colleague decided to mend ways and be of some use at home during the weekend, and i of course decided to cut down on my alcohol quotient on weekend evenings, why wait for whole day anyway..
And of course WI finally showing some mettle after so many years of being the ruined castles-of-the-great-roman-empire ,primary and manufacturing sector in general picking themselves up from the dungeons of December etcetera.
someone said the spring won't be far away if this is autumn, i just recollected Sisyphus and decided to nod anyway. It's really difficult to get good mornings and good days really.
i blame it on the world and absolve myself for now, and quote this rather defeatist couplet from Sahir Ludhiyanvi
Hum ghamzada hain laayein kahan se khushi ke geet
denge wohi jo paayeinge is zindagi se hum.
(how may i recite the songs of happiness when all i get from this world is suffering)

These days

I prefer nights, more than days, and thus I often end up stretching my waking hours beyond what I'd call sensible or sustainable. Lack of routine is the routine beyond ones imposed by breadly-butterly considerations. I often chastise myself and take a vow to make amends but for some things, I am incorrigible. Sometimes I recall the 'lord of flies' - the microcosm of the world woven on the island, all the instincts of the so-called innocents running riot. There is a religious subtext of the saner one watching us, there is re-assurance, there is a license to run riot. That is for people who want to see that subtext. However, people on the other side might ask why the almighty wait for does so long. Is he preparing us to learn to live without him? In a famous story by Tolstoy, it took a lifetime of a poor farmer in Siberia for god to see the truth-or rather reveal it, that the farmer was wronged. Why do I mention god? Maybe because it gives me for-or-against situation, be deviant and repent, say no sin is done and rebel. It gives me a second player for the game I am pining to play... I want to rage, I want to fall in love. I want to be passionate. It is the kid rooting for some fun-gay or macabre, the color matters little. There is one god I can believe in, there only one world I can live in, There is just one little piece of glass to be had. I need fire for cold, and I need fire for my rituals, my bonfire around which I could wrap up my little world. I want to save the piggy. I need to judge which on of 'them is right... and ofcourse i need to forgive the kids for their innocence. Innocence of a kid is endearing as much as it is scary. You do not know where you will be led. Which one of the bonfires you'd choose? Nights make me recollect my old I-Spy games, being woken up for a surprise gift I wanted badly. I sometimes remember standing waist deep in river Ganga and praying, saying words that didn't mean a thing a moment ago, words that won't mean anything like the supposed meaning ever after. Or some night in the sea when I felt I had done my days' work and I could rest until the dawn comes. Of course, the inevitable adult comes and shows you the stupidity of the exercise. What do you feel then? Anger? Disappointment? Guilt? Or relief that you've found and excuse to get down from the tiger (or horse, donkey etc) you were riding. Or sometimes the adult(s) doesn't come. I like nights and I like stories that end well... So dear friends, in all my stories, the adult always comes at the end...

The (k)nights in suburbia

i am searching for god, or Satan or whatever that could break the monotony, create excitement, give me anecdotes to tell etc.
about an year ago, sitting by seashore one early breezy morning, all we thought about was getting back to some warm nestling place. we stayed there for quite a long time nevertheless.. one year hence the memory is sufficiently hazy to feel nostalgic.
lets go another year backwords..what was i doing then? sitting on terrace, thinking aloud, discussing RDB, discussing the not-so-interesting test for masters, scandalizing and scaring few as we decided to test our vocal chords, and our capability as different species..and finally scampering to our rooms almost by early morning when the 'security' people decided enough was enough..
Memories are comforting, though sometimes they make one sad, reflect and say those were the best days etc..why do peole want to change world? leave legacy? is it so that one evening they could fall back in reverie, tell stories of lost worlds and wonderful nights.. do you think that's what god does in his free time? well there are three options, yes/know/ don't know.. but you must respond otherwise nothing will happen.. maybe another insgnificant moment will be past when you chose to be aloof even though you had a chance...