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A few days back I wrote a status. So sardonically I wrote ‘when one doesn’t have anything to look forward to in life, one should not even try and instead look around’. Usually I follow my own words, but to be honest 2 weeks at my desk with no real job and eight months straight with no real job satisfaction, my life seems stunted , doomed and not worth waiting for. Job, why does man need a job? And please don’t give me the ‘to provide the hungry stomach shit’ it’s hard to buy especially when you hear all the fucking rich starving themselves to death just for that PERFECT fit and the PERFECTLY SHIT class. Why does man need a job? It’s not for money and it’s definitely not for food. God gave us food alright, and he spread it even too. From what I reckon man 1st needed a job to do away his boredom, then to show off his craftsmanship and then to distinguish status and that’s when ‘money’ came into the picture. I have a job that dose not fulfill any of the causes. Instead of killing my boredom it’s adding to it, any little talent I had is dying of rust and the money is quite nominal. Since the past two weeks I have been loitering, occasionally pretending to work, doodling and reading. A book called ‘PAPILLON’, must say is an absolute brilliance and has captivated me. The fact that everything written in it was a true event adds to the impact it makes on my mind. Why does only in absolute shallowness of mankind one finds the purity of simple souls and true friendship. Why is it then that we realize the importance of all things divine? Am no priest or an atheist, but I truly love and care for all that nature calls its own. As I write this, it is winter season. The outdoors, as I see it only in the mornings and nights are cold and the rest of the day slugs by in a close air conditioned hall. My mind is sucked off of all energy and vibe that is possible by this sluggish atmosphere. I know Papillon served a severe time than ever humanly possible, but in my state I find it easy to relate with him. I feel trapped in the prison of my own mind. I look up from my desk, I go to the loo and I see every one stuck to their screens. It looks like if it was ever possible they would all get sucked in by their screens like a black hole and transported to a new world. I wish that actually happened, would have at least created some stir. It’s annoying to take the constant typing and clicking sounds and the little mummers, especially when everyone knows what they are doing and you’re the only one starting at the back of their heads aimlessly. It is so numbing, I think I’ll go mad. I have a book to read; now tats good way to pass time, but no book has ever so penetrated my soul that at times I am too scared to pick it up. Not because of its abhorrent descriptions, but because the fact always dawns upon me that am only a reader and never lived those pages. How starkly my life is different from his adventures. Some adventures he never meant to live and yet did to its fullest, some adventures that if I had to go through would lose all hopes in no time and yet how justly do I relate to his every word, his every emotion. I won’t stand a single day given the kind of torture he lasted and yet I envy him. One part of me says ‘you bloody coward hypocrite, how can you even think of comparing yourself?’ Then why is that I so bloody well understand him, of course am not the only one who does. On my way to work and back I see plenty homeless people and given the winter season a lot of them are lying in the open sun or under several torn dirty blankets. It’s a surprise how those blankets do any good to them. It’s usually the one without any option other than the sun and who rather choose to be with stray dogs and cats than the other stray people who grab my attention. I wonder, ‘are these homeless, the really blessed? Are they more close to the divine than we the so called privileged? Why is it that people who have nothing are more than willing to share and give? Why is it that these are the men who find more reasons to smile? In spite of being aware of these truths, in spite of envying them, I don’t have the balls to join them. I don’t have what it takes to find absolute happiness and thus I feel doomed to this desk for life. In my prayers henceforth I shall not ask for happiness, but the courage to find it and accept its every form, it chooses to come in.