Finally, final.

As it happens, the pages are turned to figure out what happens next. And when you near the end of a much revered book, a sense of loss is always on the cards. Once completed, you feel satiated and in some weird way, very ravenous.

Another page was turned this week, the seventh to be precise. Then there was that first visit to the placement complex. Happy faces, jitters and unavoidable disappointments- a potpourri with a great combination of sense and sight. There seems to be a time for everyone, and for a few, it's already here. Congratulations, much!

For a few of my dear ones, their time is coming. I can see it, the hope of a hopeless optimist. It's just a matter of moments before they will have formally arrived, and that day, I'll be a proud man.

Sometimes I wonder, whether my singularity in this entire milieu was a wise decision. On keen deliberation, I can only come up with one regret. I didn't get an opportunity to wear a suit with a red tie. Oh well, someday. Soon.

Final year is special, and every tick of the clock is a memory. A memory to be etched in the mosaic of life, and to be reflected back on with permeating fondness when you have moved on- for good.

Reflections: marC

3 and a li'l over years at R.
One permanent feature- End term examinations.

I wonder what existence would be like without tests? For a fact, it can't be worse than this. Then again, I really don't have the right to crib- Senior year, after all.

So the last actually begins now. Before you know it, the next ETE will be looming onerously and well, THAT, would be the real closure.

Should I be relieved that it's coming to a close? Or should I be pensive about the ETEs gone by?

There are far more questions that a fool can ask than a wise man can answer.
The irony is that both the fool and the sage are within us- always.

As they rightly say..

Silence, always, is golden.

A silent prayer,
A slip.

A silent cry,
Purgatory.

A silent satiation,
Invaluable.

Words are never enough. Words- balm to the pain, fuel to fire.
Silence, it is said, is golden.

We, the people.

At times, one is compelled to think about us. Humans, as a race. I am no exception to this fad. There was Darwin who proposed the theory of survival of the fittest, and then there are the present day management gurus (?) who move cheese and make us believe that we can win by following a particular regimen. Does it work? Maybe. Works for whom? Don't know.

In my humble opinion, humans are a set of pending experiments in a laboratory.

We were brought out, nay synthesized, for the purpose of study and analysis but somewhere down the line, the worker gave up his job. We were put into the reactor, mixed with the necessary components and left to amalgamate, disintegrate and process. With time, after all the tests and examinations, we were left unattended for the purpose of obtaining results.

And it still happens today.

We face challenges, are confronted by barriers and forced to work against our will. Yet, no one sees the problems we face, the loss we encounter and the pain that we go through. We are all in this test setup, hoping that one day, the results are read and we are put to our rightful place.

We are the lukewarm cup of hot chocolate on a freezing winter night.

Left to stand alone, to be consumed when it's just the right time. Only they forgot, we moved past our perfect moment and now we provide little comfort.

We are the tenuous rays of the setting sun.

Not valued for the light we spread because we are weak, but remembered for the hope we instill before the dark night engulfs the world.

We, humans, are still learning to find our voice- muffled, and oft unheard.

Of sprints and leaps

I remember Junior School Sport's Days with great alacrity. The sack races, the sprints and the march pasts. Every left-right-left resounds in my heart with the same verve as it did a little more than a decade ago. I used to like the relay race, with the baton being hurriedly passed and the go-go-go being yelled as if it was a medical emergency! For one, it was the only thing wherein I wasn't singly blamed in case of a disappointment. But as far as I recall, we used to be good at it- as a team. I wondered why, of all the things in the world, running enticed me then. And maybe somewhere down the line, I found my answer.

Running is inherent to human nature.

You run to catch the train, you run to run away from your fears, and you run in order to achieve what you set out for. Sometimes, it tires you out and you really wonder whether it was worth the effort. More often than not, it isn't.

We are a bunch of sensible people, living in a nonsensical world. And because of this blaring irony, we learn to run. Run to change, run to accept, and run to accede.

It's not life until you've run your part. Don't worry how far you can go, it's never going to be far enough! But run, not because you have to, but because we are humans at the end of the day.

And THAT, is closure.

Once upon a time lived Tom;
And then there was Jerry,
Tom never missed a chance;
To make Jerry dance
To his tune.

One fine morrow;
Jerry had enough,
For he left the show;
And Tom had no role to essay.

Tom's beseech for Jerry's return,
Was met by a cold distant stern.
"For all my misery, I still haven't complained;
To the King of our Kingdom Animilia."

Tom, aghast, stood with a bent;
Patted Jerry and left in silence.
Jerry called out, and wished him well.
And that, folks!, is closure!

Cause and Belief

Idealism is very personal. A sense of right- and wrong- is dependent on how one seems to strike a balance in life. For me, there are no shades of grey. Either you are spartan white, or trojan black. It is rather unfair, and at times I do feel I should give myself the benefit of doubt, but it is an arduous task to change one's perception after so long. No wonder children are the spartan white. They bear no malice, show little displeasure. For children, hurt is expressed in tears and happiness in uncontrollable laughter. How I wish we could be back there, again.

When does one feel wronged? Can you feel cheated by only a person? Isn't the system worthy of blame as well? It is inherent in human nature to take the badgering, not to utter a word in protest.

I'd rather not take on something out of my league. Does it really matter?

Does anything really matter? Does it matter that you may be the most admired person in the room? Or maybe the most despised? No, nothing really matters.

Then why does one feel cheated, humiliated and disrespected when meted with an unfair treatment? What is fair in this not-so-fair community? Some questions do not have answers. And maybe they are best unanswered.

When you see the tallest person in the room walk with a slight bent- hunched, a recent development- you realise life takes it's toll on everyone. And maybe all the teaching of being true to yourself are not actually possible in this non-utopian setup. There are certain values that everyone takes along with them, and many times these values get modified to suit one's convenience. If you are able to modify yourself according to your principles, you are a winner. Respect, unbound!

When does a parent become a child? The transition is very subtle, yet very sudden. The reversal of roles is a beautiful phenomenon of the world- a true example of symbiotic existence. You may lose touch with some, but the bond seldom decapitates. And that is how you take them along- in mind and in heart.

Believe in something, and hold your ground. Live for a cause, and make it happen. You don't want to look back at some point in time, and grimace. A smile of satisfaction goes a long way in making history, and after all, it is his story that we read ever so often.