A new beginning, again.

The sky was cast with dark clouds, the moonlight struggled to make its way through this veneer that lay over the sea. For a moment​ the howling wind swayed away the clouds and a star filled canvas made a brief appearance. The sound of the dancing waves was just as sweet as a lullaby. He wished that the waves never hit shore and this lullaby went on forever. He lay on the raft gazing at the sky, while the moon, stars and the clouds played hide and seek. The wind and the waves cheered on in support while his mind had been looping “ I’m lost at sea, don’t bother me….” all along. The playful wind and waves suddenly turned recalcitrant and rain started falling from the stars. Soaked and shivering he woke up, standing up and crossing the threshold towards consciousness… The raft was missing and there was no sea surrounding him. He had no recollection of how he ended up sleeping on the sidewalk . Baffled, he gathered his thoughts as he looked around and ran towards the bus stop on the street for shelter. The street was dimly lit and the rain poured heavily. As he sat there, he knew what was about to happen. He had diagnosed himself as a textbook over-thinker. He knew it was for the best to leave the future to probability and uncertainty, because a convention of belligerent thoughts was the last thing he needed. The past, how much ever 'bleh' it seemed, was what put him to sleep. It was a psychological trick that he had learnt a long time ago. All he knew for sure from all these years on this planet was that the future could either be a dream or a nightmare. It was a gamble, for either all or nothing. He had always taken that risk and as the night would fall, he would do it again. As he tried to count the number of times the odds had failed him, the train of the past slowly began its journey….

*Snap into the mind*

I recall these lines from the famous Steve Jobs speech I had once read as a schoolboy, “You can't connect the dots by looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.” Well you know what? These words only work for some of the elite folks who have it all figured out. As I ponder upon​ these words, the only reaction I can think of is what dots and what connection! As I look behind, the terrain changes abruptly while ahead lies a blur. “Somehow, I manage”, the title of the fictional book by one of the best TV characters​, Michael Scott is what applies to the rest of us. It probably is the poor man’s version of the Steve Jobs quote (poor, metaphorically!) We don’t turn behind and reason with what went south. All we look for is some greater good, some purpose which makes the agony seem survivable.  All we TRY to do is survive. We don’t think about losing battles and winning wars. We somehow manage today, somehow WILL  manage tomorrow and so on. This is the battle where at the end of TODAY, we are happy irrespective of the joy or the hurt. Winning or losing becomes trivial in comparison to us 'just' living. All the applause goes to the ones who succeed while sympathy fetches the ones with failures. Left with nothing is us, a majority of the populous which accounts to the “No-thing” minority. We are the ones who didn't find the unicorns or succeed with flying colors but hey; we didn't bite the dust either! We don’t care about the applause and sympathies. We know we mess up somethings but we also know we are good at some other things. Our life appears to be running through the motions of a scripted destiny. Where can you seek for inspiration if this is the case?!

Nowhere!

A song so disturbed, it can be seen but not​ heard. If there was background music in real life then I bet, whenever a triumphant tune played, it'd indicate an abort mission for most of us. We would stop looking for what lies ahead!

●     Where is this train headed to? How and when does this journey end? What is the storyline here? For a moment we think all of this is headed somewhere. Well, it isn’t… At the end of TODAY, all our stories are just alike. We set out with a goal. We sort of strive to achieve it and then there are moments of sheer happiness or dismay or both. Then we set another goal and history repeats itself. Iteration metamorphoses into an infinite loop.  We learn each time; we have our trials and our errors. The one thing we should be proud of is that we keep on repeating it all until we either belong to elite or we die.

*Snap out*

He was dreaming of a song and something went wrong. As the rain stopped and the sunlight appeared, it was time to continue. He knew this was a story with no end. He had accepted that the climax was somewhat known. Whatever may be the goal, even if the outcome was set to default, it was the JOURNEY that mattered… this time and for many more times to come. He decided to live for the anti-climax. He was lost, not at sea but in his own giant metaphor that was the story for many others yet deciphered by none. With this, he set out again, not to win or lose but to survive because with every end, lies a beginning.