Illusions!

It has been an unusual day, an unusual Saturday. I have spent a major part of the day in office and then at the gym. Tired and wary of the sun that that seems to shine at its prickly best even though it’s almost time for it to pass on the baton to the night sky, I seek refuge in the air-conditioned environs of the on campus departmental store.

The strong A/C is enough to numb my senses and ignore the wise adage “Never enter a shop without a list or at least a purpose” and I soon find myself walking the endless aisles lined with products that promise me a “better life”. I succumb eventually and as I turn to the stationery section, I have consumed almost the whole of a high calorie chocolate effectively negating my entire gym session in a matter of minutes.

I turn my attention to the writing material on display. I haven’t had an idea to pen on paper for some time now and yet I’m drawn to it almost for some kind of inspiration.
It’s the name that catches my attention. I ignore it but it seems to be all over the place. Some marketing manager has decided to name a particular series of registers “Illusions”. What an absurd name I think to myself. However on second thoughts it seems extremely appropriate. We do really live in a world of illusions or rather we live our life through a maze of illusions. The meaning of our existence on this planet will always be clouded by the illusions painted for us by the people who chose to live theirs in them. Let’s begin with this piece of writing material itself. Market it as a ladder to success and some gullible student will fall for it, brainwashed that a good academic career ensures success in life. Somewhere down the line he will mistake success for happiness. Thus even before he can understand the meaning of “Illusion”, he would have started living his life in one.

My train of thoughts is interrupted by the store-owner who is looking at me impatiently. Its past closing time. “Do you want anything or you just wanted to enjoy the A/C” his eyes seems to ask me accusingly. I hurriedly buy myself one of THE registers and another of those chocolates. I smile as I do so. Atleast I have worked past one of my illusions..”..I will never be the next Sylvester Stallone”

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

"When was the last time you did something for the first time?” or so goes the saying.

Somehow this quote stuck in my mind which otherwise refuses to hold anything of any great significance these days. And I had to think about the quote seriously however much I tried to bury it beneath other important concerns like predicting the winner of the England Ireland cricket match. Technically I though to myself… I do a lot of new things each day. I even made a list of them.

Teaming up my trousers with a new different pair of socks each day.
Buying fuel from different fuel stations and that too in different denominations each time.
Trying the same food from different caterers in the uber-modern food court of our office.
Drinking the office coffee at different times of the day.

However much I tried to convince myself that the thrill quotient in my life was above average, I knew the truth myself… which was important.

Just when I was thinking of ways to save my otherwise boring life, a friend suggested 2 options… swimming or salsa. Me and Salsa? I can’t see myself waltzing across the dance room and at the same time balancing my partner... all with an expression of consummate ease.

So swimming it is. After 3 weeks, I am not doing too badly. I have bunked only 50% of the lessons and I don’t really drown in the pool. So there it is… new something in my life.

Is Salsa next? I may just suprise myself.

The Day After!

Its some time past lunch on a Saturday afternoon and I am keying these lines on an office machine. Hang on-things can become worse. Out of the two life-support systems in my office, one is away and the other refuses to give me my much required dose of caffeine. I just finished a badly cooked meal that promised to be a Chinese delight but ended up being a cross between a badly cooked pulao and a hurriedly conjured up curry. Wait wait I haven’t finished. I forgot to mention the big one-our team is out of the Cricket World Cup… thanks to some fine display of their true worth.

I thought I would be sad but the truth is I am not… a little hurt or cheated may be… but nothing more than that. Perhaps I have changed... perhaps my priorities have… perhaps my happiness lies elsewhere. I could see that change in me well below our fate in the Cup of Woes was sealed.

I surprised myself yesterday when I happily traded Tendulkar’s batting (ok he didn’t last too long) for an evening of star gazing (the real ones and not the ones that seem to excel in those atrocious 30 sec commercials) and a conversation of beautiful words and beautiful moments that were sadly moments only.

Is this the real me or do I need to wake up? I really don’t know but I guess it doesn’t matter. I guess these lines sum it up for me…..

“As I grow to understand life less and less,
I learn to love it more and more.”