I stand on my terrace and look across to the terrace diagonally opposite to me and there's my neighbour playing with his dogs there. He's got two lovely daughters and a wife laughing away as the dogs chew on the ball and on each other. I stand there staring at them enjoying a normal sunday afternoon. It looks like a perfect picture of happiness, everything a man could ask for. Everything i should be envious of. But i wasn't.And that makes me wonder what is happiness after all. Why is that one man's idea of happiness is not exactly the same for the other!
My friends take vacations abroad. My friends are getting new hobbies and newer kicks in their life. Somebody's learning guitar, someone's learning to dance, to trek, making films, updating their FB profile with most awesome status messages. Things that make them happy, things they want to do. I'm doing none of it. Not that i want to do any of it. I'm sitting here writing this purposeless post.
Most of my friends have already bought a house. Some are planning their first baby. Some are contemplating buying their second car. Most of them have their life figured out. Or at least some goals, short term and otherwise, set. I don't exactly envy them.
Coming from where i am coming from, i should be thankful for what i got. For where i stand. But i am not. I don't know what i want from life. I dont know if i am given another chance, i'd do anything any better, any different. i don't even know if i know any better. I try to envy people who read self help book and find the meaning of their life. Who attend healing seminars and find peace. Who read Rumi and Rajnish and find the purpose of life. The Karma and Chakra of life et al. But i don't .
I'm such an ungrateful bastard when i say i don't exactly care for any of it. I wish i could turn to people who care for me and tell them, i don't care if i am a let down to you. You guys invested in a wrong guy. !'d much rather have a switch off button and escape. That i'd much rather look at this circus from the distance. Or maybe i woudn't even care to watch.
I am forever told that i think too much. And that i talk a lot more than that. That i could've been more hands on, at home and at work. Maybe you guys chose a wrong person to do the job. I know i tricked you into believing otherwise. But how long will this con job go on! It's a matter of time before you will be frustrated of me and show me the door, for i can't find the escape button myself.
I wish i was living in some jungle, where even the airplanes woudn't fly overhead. Where i wouldn't know there's other world out there. I wish there was nothing more to know than your immediate sorrounding. No pressure to be intelligent. To know stuff. I can't even tell you that there are 100 times more films i haven't watched than i have. That i barely read. I have never made a painting. I have never composed a tune. I have nothing which is my own. I, like most of my generation, am nothing more than a wikipedia intelligent.
I can't write poetry. I don't have any stories to tell. I don't have epiphanies. I can't cull out instances from life and relate them to people in a way that intrigues them, engages them. I don't have the ability to suck anybody into my belief. And I know people who have ability to do that. And i don't. I wish i could.
