Something of Myself
Monday, October 29, 2007
Lone man standing at the top, nowhere to go but straight down under! What a ride it has been for so long…crestfallen he rose again and again and again to combat unbroken rules, unspoken agreements, and unsaid arrangements. Challenge was his skill and risk-taking his forte. He hardly won, but he left with a pleasing smile that told his spectators that the fight was worth their salt (or money or whatever).
But now, at the brink of another beginning he finds himself alone. The exchange of swords or roses mean nothing to him anymore. For in 2007, you are what your pay slip says you are. Your worth is exactly what they term as ‘cost to company.’
It’s difficult, at this age and time to come up again and stare below. They are fools who take pride in reaching the top because once you’ve reached your spot, hammered the nail on the soft ground and cleaned your dirty boots, there is nothing much to do, and you are left only to look at yourself.
What then can be a good plan to move forward? To re-built? What motive can one have when emotions run dry, and when the individuals that made life bearable have left for the day (with no promises of return)? What meaning can you attach to a mission that is devoid of any objective? What glory to the fame that is bought at the cost of dear ones?
I, personally have not known him for decades. Our association began since the world feared the Y2K bug…I was constantly charmed by his never-say-die spirit…Odysseus and all that…but now it saddens me to see him like this. I tried reaching out and lending an ear, but he had no tales to share…I tried engaging him in a dialogue, but he had no words to mince…I tried touching him softly to tell him I was around, but he stood away so far, I could not reach him.
These things he said, leaving me with his memories: ‘all experience is an arch, wherethr’o gleams that untraveled world/ whose margins fade forever and forever as I move…’
But now, at the brink of another beginning he finds himself alone. The exchange of swords or roses mean nothing to him anymore. For in 2007, you are what your pay slip says you are. Your worth is exactly what they term as ‘cost to company.’
It’s difficult, at this age and time to come up again and stare below. They are fools who take pride in reaching the top because once you’ve reached your spot, hammered the nail on the soft ground and cleaned your dirty boots, there is nothing much to do, and you are left only to look at yourself.
What then can be a good plan to move forward? To re-built? What motive can one have when emotions run dry, and when the individuals that made life bearable have left for the day (with no promises of return)? What meaning can you attach to a mission that is devoid of any objective? What glory to the fame that is bought at the cost of dear ones?
I, personally have not known him for decades. Our association began since the world feared the Y2K bug…I was constantly charmed by his never-say-die spirit…Odysseus and all that…but now it saddens me to see him like this. I tried reaching out and lending an ear, but he had no tales to share…I tried engaging him in a dialogue, but he had no words to mince…I tried touching him softly to tell him I was around, but he stood away so far, I could not reach him.
These things he said, leaving me with his memories: ‘all experience is an arch, wherethr’o gleams that untraveled world/ whose margins fade forever and forever as I move…’
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