Be Stubborn



2015…!!! It arrived twenty days ago. Woah! Time does fly by. Am still deciding upon resolutions here! (Am I the only one?) I have been following a few them for past two days. Two consecutive days…which feels like a huge achievement , maybe because I have holidays going on. It has been over a month since holidays began and I was bored out of my mind with in few days. You just feel so very lazy…you don’t want to do anything but eat, sleep, waste time and repeat. Then ,the boredom reaches a point where you become irksome for no reason what so ever…that leads to bitterness which  further takes the form of guilt and a result of which you feel absolutely useless. Well, it’s  the ‘Holiday Syndrome’ as one of my friends calls it. I must say, aptly so.

What new year brings along as it comes is a truckload of positive feelings. Everyone is, for once, ready to let go of their past and start afresh. We wish each other a very Happy New Year and fill ourselves with unadulterated, pristine hope. We feel rejuvenated…think of ways of making the forth coming days good at least,if not great. It is a different issue that most of us follow our resolutions till the end of January, max. Important thing, I think is how we all despite our fears or difficulties or differences are filled with new energy to live life. Sure that energy dies out slowly and eventually, but be stubborn. Be stubborn, be adamant, be persistent...like an innocuous, cute, little kid is for that candy he or she loves and won’t rest until the candy is in his or her hungry mouth. If the energy dies out, find it again. Don’t let it go.

Make life your Passion and live it with the intensity of an obsession. That is my wish for all of you and for myself.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Vacuum Cleaner for thoughts

Image
Mr.Blob is this dusty spot on the lens of my specs who is situated at an angle of elevation of forty-fucking-how-did-you-get-here degrees. He gets a real kick out of playing pee-ka-boo at obstructing my vision and sometimes getting on my nerves by making me squint to see properly. With time, I got used to him. I let him stay on and he became a part of the lens. On good days, when the sun rays hit Mr.Blob in the right mood, there would be a kaleidoscopic glare that I claimed to hate but if I were being completely honest I liked it quite a bit. Today, I picked up a cloth and an optical lens cleaner and wiped my lens clean, bidding goodbye to Mr.Blob. Having put this off for so long and so often, I must say this goodbye was long overdue. During the bus rides back home in the night, from project classes in final semester I would think about it frequently, this word, this degree, this designation – Engineer. It’s hard to explain the feeling it evoked. There was sure to be a h
Read more

Analogy / The Woodcutter

Not black, not white. On a greyscale, A shade more on the darker side. Light hearted clouds in camaraderie, out for a cotton candy break. Condensed molecules of vapour no longer weighing them down. A drop that claimed to be distant fell upon a leaf who believed his claim. Sparks of callous connection trudged deep. How, why, what or when are questions for entropy (to answer). Entropy - who took on the role of Cupid, for an evening. He resigned that post, that very night. They began to dance, a slow waltz. Orchestrated by winds - carefree and young. The raindrop making his way through her veins. Wondering if they were real, she gazed into his eyes. In the drop was a reflection of a different time. He had stopped listening while her insides were still singing. As unexpectedly as he'd come, he left too. Slipped away with the ease that fluids do. The leaf tried to justify her drop. ( hers, was he ? ) She did, for quite some time. One day she took off
Read more

Drapetomani

Deep and darkening galore of dilapidated sheds. Treading on diligent dullness, lives the man I call master. The grass on his side greener, the smile on his face familiar. Whiff of fresh paint. Built on an elevation is his decadent abode. To the door ajar, do my bovine eyes wander. “...a flood hits northern parts of...” “...but I still love you...” “...new version is available for just Rupees...” Disrupted voices boom from channels being switched listlessly, on a TV aged six. Here comes master says Dhena, the milch cow. Tethered to a pole, I am. Master's will, the halter around my neck. I am. Here comes master dragging along his baggy clothes. Here comes master wearing a hat as old as him. Circles I draw. Confined by certain circumference, I draw. Defined by length of rope of master's choosing, I withdraw. Babhru's ruminating. Wasn't much of a talker, that one. His kind, the ploughing ones usually aren't. Master's limp
Read more