Prelude to War

“Whom the Gods love die Young”

Nothing is merrier than being young with the world on your shoulder; it displays a possibility so seductive, you start to feel that there must be something more important that you could be doing than just studying for an exam. Everyone has a reason to do something; the reason may range from a simple satisfaction in doing the work, to maybe a responsibility one could not simply avert, or from recent revelations probably an attempt to defend ones ideology. With so much to my credentials, it would not be a surprise if many attempt to ponder upon my own motivations. What made me work for the Students’ council for year or with the Gymkhana for more than two years? Why was I with Voices? What made me actively help in managing the Scholarship hike campaign when the nationwide protests were declared? What makes me lead when I could be happy following?

I have always walked that line very carefully, keeping secrets rather than telling lies, and here there is no secret to divulge. I have no ideology to defend; I am a person with a “mindset” rather than a “set mind”, this makes me adhere to sense and logic and accommodate conflicting notions without any pride and prejudice.   The unity in our campus that breaks the diversity in age, language and culture, or the position you hold here, when it comes to common problem, like mess subsidy or scholarship hike, when we all marched together, when we had a common issue to fight for, has always fascinated me. Anything done for the welfare of a larger community than oneself reduces the burden of one’s own consciousness and gives one the inner peace and outer strength to be of more service to the institute and then to the nation as a whole. While the unity in diversity fascinates me, I have grown to respect the diversity as well. To preserve the space for individual choices must not come at the cost that compromises on the unity; this might sometimes require us to keep some forces at check. The collective mind of such forces has no ultimate desire but a constant temptation for dividing the society, an obsession against the prevalence of unity.

Poisoning a popular mind, only a fool blames the victim. I am not someone’s puppet; I am not someone’s messiah, I will lead when I am sure of myself and seek guidance whenever necessary, I have always done what satisfies me and would continue to do so, no one dictates me as much as I dictate my own happiness and personal satisfaction.  I prefer to stand alone to preserve the unity rather than to stand together and break it.

It is not that I am too young to pick a side, but it is just that I am too wise not to pick one.

Miles to Go Before I Sleep

“The woods are lovely, Dark and Deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.”

The time between bed and sleep is the worst of the day. The past comes back with a vengeance- the mistakes, the misery, the could-haves and should-haves. Try as you might, you simply cannot close your eyes and go to sleep. A time when the private hell opens up right before your eyes, a private hell is something you lived with alone; even when sometimes someone else’s casual questions nudged old, raw wounds within yourself.

Dully and with only the vaguest of reasoning, you seek out a place where you could be unknown and which, as well, is unfamiliar to you. Familiar things, their touch, their sound, their sight, had become an ache of heart all together which had filled the waking day and penetrated sleep. Strangely, in a way shamed you. There were never nightmares; only the steady procession of events on some unforgettable days. Days, that relive inside you as memories in the day and dreams in the night. And hence keeps you up and occupied till dawn, as you feel dawn gives you a sense of security as if the perils of the night are over. And in the stolen moments of the night you try to sleep and probably get a little shut eye only to be woken up perspiring and wishing for someone besides you warm to hug.

There were certain moments in life where you cannot help but feel like a character in a motion picture acting out a scenario that was written by somebody else. Probably because sometimes you responded in certain ways, leave alone others, you never expected yourself to be reacting, or sometimes when things happened too fast that you wished you could stop the clock for a while and try to take in everything. Miles to go down the memory lane, as time tries slowly to fade away the intensity of such incidents, the road not taken might seem a distress, and for you were the lonely traveler there. Miles along the road not taken, lonely, with no one to tie a bandage around your foot when a glass piece went in, lonely, when you limped along the rest of the miles seeking support on the old grown trees who lived alone long enough to care for no one anymore, limping along to seek out a dream which you always wanted but now fear would come true.    

But then, there is a mile I go before I sleep, down the road I walk not alone, just to see her smile and wave goodnight, just to see her turn back and give me that extra glance, just to see her smile one last time for the day before I see her smile yet again in my dreams. For once, the mile to go before I sleep is when reality seems better than dreams, when aspirations are strengthened and ambitions seem worth achieving. The mile I walk to see her off, I feel the raindrops in a dessert of drought, I see fireflies in a world of darkness, I see a ray of hope in an otherwise hopeless planet. En route the miles to go before I sleep, it is when I realize the pleasurable attractions of the world waiting for us at the end of the road not taken, as I walk along confidently holding her hand to meet out the ending, the happy ending. If things are not happy at the end then it is not the end, then there are yet Miles to Go Before I Sleep with a lot of promises to keep.