Nicotine patched Insomnia and other thoughts.

As the pitter patter of the rain outside my windows robbed away my sleep, I’d two options. I could either get up and try to finish off that document I’ve been trying to work on or keep tossing and turning in my bed and wait for that elusive sleep.

The other option was to get up, have a drink, and think about the passage of time.

I chose the third option…

* * *

Coming of age has been a favorite expression of mine for some time now. To put things into perspective, I’ll be thirty by the end of this year.

In all the movies that I see, there is one moment, that one defining moment, when the protagonist realizes something deep, and that realization changes him. She/he understands the significance of that moment and “grows up”, and does something which is completely different to his/her philosophy of life till then.

I’m not sure if I had the moment. I’m sure there were moments which would’ve helped me be a grown up, but I never did (grow up). I keep waiting for a sign, which would tell me I’ve had a good run thus far, and now it is time to let go off my old ways and embrace the new.

But the old ways is me, if I change it, would I be a different person?

I look at myself, I know I have changed, but I cannot put pinpoint where or how or why. I’ve come very far from the day I landed in Bangalore with a backpack and a sense of adventure. The adventure is dead and the backpack trashed,along with other memories. But I keep hoping.

Hoping for what exactly, I’m not sure.

My life has been led by choosing the easiest path. It has been ruled by averting risks. I have had to rationalize most of the decisions I’ve ever taken, and the ones I couldn’t I continue regretting them. I know it’s the end of the road for change, and I know I need to change, but then how do I do it?

Every weekday I keep hoping for the weekend, that one weekend, I’ll take control of my life. Before every weekend, I make up a hazy decision on things I need to do, but by Sunday evening, I’ll be wondering if I should start them now. Thus the weekend comes and goes, and the wait continues.

I keep hoping that by ignoring problems, they’ll go away. And I’ve been lucky all my life, because it’s been going away. Now suddenly when running away is not an option, I find myself woefully unprepared to fight.

* * *

And then a lightning strikes somewhere, and the darkness is shamed into revealing its secrets outside my window, and I think nothing ever changes.

I remember the old lines by Gibran – For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

Does it mean, death is melting into the sun, dissolving into light and becoming nothing? So is living, being a blot in the day, a prism to split the sun, and create some rainbows while at it?

* * *

 

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There is a pounding in my head

There is a pounding in my head

I wonder if I were better of dead

I can’t look at future with anything but dread

I don’t really want to get up from this bed.

They’ll be celebrating the day when the country was freed

Though the country doesn’t have enough to feed

The teeming millions who can’t do anything but breed

Maybe that is my creed.

Gone are the wishes and deed

Let me rest and not heed

I can’t get up and lead

This revolution has no seed

I put my hand under the pillow and checked

Something hard and poking like a lead

I wonder if I hit it last night while I napped

There is a pounding in my head.

Rain fog and night

Raindrops

Raindrops

I love rain

I love fog

I love the night

Is it because it hides

The Mundane?

On a rainy night

When lightning strikes

And lights up the world for a brief flash

I’m always caught by surprise.

Everything looks exactly the same

The magic of night is lost.

And then I go back to sleep

The pitter patter of the rain

Singing the lullaby

And I dream.