(This story is a work of fiction but may bear resemblance to people living and dead.)
He walked into his office groggily at 11 in the morning. Being half dazed wasn’t really an exceptional thing considering sleep was a scarce commodity and the reasons for that were innumerable. His chair, as usual was missing. Grabbing a chair from the next workstation, he sat down. He put on the button on his comp and sat staring blankly at the screen.
At 24, if someone asked him what he wanted from life, he probably wouldn’t have had an answer. Theoretically, he could see it all sorted out. Finances, romance, career, life and everything else that mattered. The job was good and so was the money. There was an angel in life…though she hadn’t quite become his girl…but he was working on it. And he was hopeful. But in reality…it was all one big scattered jigsaw puzzle. One labyrinth he couldn’t find the way out of. Strange that a person who could visualize life so clearly, couldn’t reach the destination!
His questions to life seemed to disappear somewhere in the fathomless depths of the ocean. Anyway, giving in to reality that stared him in the face…he sat down to work. Work…now THAT was an interesting term, considering that was pretty much what he had in life. Home. Work. Work. Home.
And this hustle bustle of life, which had gradually given way to monotony, he had lost something very dear to him. Something essential. His identity. Who was he? The question gave way to a deathly silence. He wracked his brains and thought hard but the deafening silence continued its advance on the noise. Sitting there in that office, he was experiencing Brownian movement. Nobody there could even remotely estimate what was going on within him. He was restless.
He thought of the past. He thought of the bright spots that seemed to provide the only light which gave him the strength to fight. Sitting there, he thought if he had always been so clueless about life. The answer, definitely, was NO. Then where had he lost his way? And when? He couldn’t seem to remember.
Today, when identity has been converted into a commodity, he did not possess it. On one hand, it was good because he could disappear into the lanes of anonymity when he was tired of the rat race. He was untraceable. But sometimes…he wanted to be discovered. He wanted to be known by people. Life had put him into a fix. And he was the one who had to find the way out because otherwise he would undergo slow suffocation. He could already feel the pain. Then suddenly…he saw that face. His little angel. He loved her. He adored her. He wanted to share his life with her. But alas! Words sometimes, fell too short to tell her how much she meant. He stared at her photograph…lost in her thoughts. Her voice rang in his ears like the chirping of birds on a spring morning.
Sitting there, he made a decision. He was called indecisive but this time, he knew he would never decide on anything more firmly than this. He decided to set out on the quest to discover his identity. Not his name or what the world thought of him but to find out who he actually was. He asked his princess to walk with him. The journey will be tough without her support. He knew he could take care of her.
Did she walk holding his hand on the paved and unpaved lanes of life? I do not know. But he is already on the quest and I haven’t heard from the princess in a while. I…happen to be an optimist. Rest is open to interpretation…
If you find his identity…call him on 1800 1600 1600
And if you don’t…then he will find it himself. And he will come back.
Adios.
He walked into his office groggily at 11 in the morning. Being half dazed wasn’t really an exceptional thing considering sleep was a scarce commodity and the reasons for that were innumerable. His chair, as usual was missing. Grabbing a chair from the next workstation, he sat down. He put on the button on his comp and sat staring blankly at the screen.
At 24, if someone asked him what he wanted from life, he probably wouldn’t have had an answer. Theoretically, he could see it all sorted out. Finances, romance, career, life and everything else that mattered. The job was good and so was the money. There was an angel in life…though she hadn’t quite become his girl…but he was working on it. And he was hopeful. But in reality…it was all one big scattered jigsaw puzzle. One labyrinth he couldn’t find the way out of. Strange that a person who could visualize life so clearly, couldn’t reach the destination!
His questions to life seemed to disappear somewhere in the fathomless depths of the ocean. Anyway, giving in to reality that stared him in the face…he sat down to work. Work…now THAT was an interesting term, considering that was pretty much what he had in life. Home. Work. Work. Home.
And this hustle bustle of life, which had gradually given way to monotony, he had lost something very dear to him. Something essential. His identity. Who was he? The question gave way to a deathly silence. He wracked his brains and thought hard but the deafening silence continued its advance on the noise. Sitting there in that office, he was experiencing Brownian movement. Nobody there could even remotely estimate what was going on within him. He was restless.
He thought of the past. He thought of the bright spots that seemed to provide the only light which gave him the strength to fight. Sitting there, he thought if he had always been so clueless about life. The answer, definitely, was NO. Then where had he lost his way? And when? He couldn’t seem to remember.
Today, when identity has been converted into a commodity, he did not possess it. On one hand, it was good because he could disappear into the lanes of anonymity when he was tired of the rat race. He was untraceable. But sometimes…he wanted to be discovered. He wanted to be known by people. Life had put him into a fix. And he was the one who had to find the way out because otherwise he would undergo slow suffocation. He could already feel the pain. Then suddenly…he saw that face. His little angel. He loved her. He adored her. He wanted to share his life with her. But alas! Words sometimes, fell too short to tell her how much she meant. He stared at her photograph…lost in her thoughts. Her voice rang in his ears like the chirping of birds on a spring morning.
Sitting there, he made a decision. He was called indecisive but this time, he knew he would never decide on anything more firmly than this. He decided to set out on the quest to discover his identity. Not his name or what the world thought of him but to find out who he actually was. He asked his princess to walk with him. The journey will be tough without her support. He knew he could take care of her.
Did she walk holding his hand on the paved and unpaved lanes of life? I do not know. But he is already on the quest and I haven’t heard from the princess in a while. I…happen to be an optimist. Rest is open to interpretation…
If you find his identity…call him on 1800 1600 1600
And if you don’t…then he will find it himself. And he will come back.
Adios.
5 comments:
well...i hope he finds his identity and comes back soon...we are all waiting...with bated breath :)
I actually liked this.
Could do with some editing, in my honest opinion (some of the lines were way too cheesy) but overall it was good.
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