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Spirit

While coming back to home, before I noticed that I was shivering in the chilly winter winds, which gushed inside from all the sides nullifying all my efforts to stay warm, I was thinking of the things that were unchanged still. I was also thinking the last time I was involved in a night out. I could not remember one. Like this one night outs can never be planned, as they are the most impromptu and so most memorable.

 But what bemused me was the feeling as if only time had moved and rest everything was same. Corporate, IIMs and time had not made much of the difference. Tauseef is still the one who would go on to discuss the intricacies of all that has happened. Be it an AOE game or a test series or a quickly concluded poker hand. Sudhanshu would still set things up, be it distributing the poker chips, setting up the LAN or calculating the bail outs. Singhvi is still bold in his approach, be it bullying at poker table or standing up on the table in Maths tutorial. Khare is still the one who will play safe everytime. I tried to think about myself too but didn’t reach any conclusion. It is humorous that we are least observant about ourselves. I missed Pandey and all the other Cautley inmates. None the less it is off course a beautiful addition to the list of all those night outs.

 One thing which never changes is the spirit. It is timeless. I guess that’s what makes that night out wonderful. The assurance that any amount of water may flow through the Ganga Canal in Roorkee, the common spirit of your batch would still remain the same.

 I was thoroughly refreshed for a long day at conference, justifiably so. I had lived the spirit of the most beautiful 4 years of my life, in that one night out.

Difficult

Pulp Fiction. Jules: I'm not giving you that money. I'm buying something from you. Wanna know what I'm buyin' Ringo? Pumpkin: What? Jules: Your life. I'm givin' you that money so I don't have to kill your ass. You read the Bible? Pumpkin: Not regularly. Jules: There's a passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy My brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay My vengeance upon you." Now... I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, that meant your ass. You'd be dead right now. I never gave much thought to what it meant. I just thought it was a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before I popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. See, now I'm thinking: maybe it means you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here... he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could mean you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. And I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be the shepherd.

Simple

4PM winter sky was so beautiful that day. Violating the general principle of not noticing the most obvious things around us I just happened to look at it. There was a fleece of clouds. Clouds arranging themselves in a jigsaw. Winds were at work and the jigsaw was coming along naturally and beautifully. May be it conveyed a very simple thing that day. That it is always coming along. Even if you just stand and observe, even if you don’t put any effort, pieces are always getting in places. Probably to tell you that it is not your job to interfere with them. One of the simplest things to understand I guess. That just don’t interfere, you are not even needed. Everything is so simple. The travesty is the fact that simple is difficult; most difficult at times.

Inanimate

The other day I was discussing attachment with her. Next morning on my way to school, nonchalantly my eyes fell on the miles my bike had travelled. 22k and some more it read. I never felt the 3 year companionship until that moment, never realized that it is and had been the most important cog in the machinery of my daily life. One day I will bid adieu to it and would replace it by something similar while telling it that it had performed its duties in the most objective way. It was there when I wanted it. It was just there always, required or not. Isn’t this love devoid of attachment, though inanimate?