Run

I have had a life far too ordinary to write about. And right now, when I look at it, in my current state of mind it feels far too uneventful to talk about as well.Its as if I have derived pleasure from taking my life to a certain high and then letting go, never bothering to just kick a little to jump over the wall and on to the other side. I am not at all at any thing and every thing I take up, but what I am really good at is squandering away the early advantage . Another trend that i have noticed lately about my modus operandi on life is that the closer I get to cracking something big, or latching on to something good, the more content and relaxed I become.Rather more disinterested.. And when the time requires one to stay low and sail with the winds, that's when I get restless and flutter the most. The end result is that I am not able to break ahead of the pack... despite burning much more rubber then any one else. Not all potentials are realized, some not timely others never at all. Its like i am not sure what describes be best, world class runner chained to a heavy load or a non-athlete on power boosters.. I guess I am just a crippled child waiting for my Jenny to come in my life and say to me .. "Run Forrest, Run"."

Late or in time..

As his official car dropped him on the highway close to his destination , he could see some people, and instinctively knew they were waiting for him. As he rode with them to the house, the mood of the occasion was shared by every one with minimal words. With so much that she had told him, he could have made his way to the place all by himself based on her descriptions. Out at the door, there was a frenzy of activity. There was a crowd in the house. Despite never having met them , he could recognize all her uncles and aunts and cousins. She had told him so much about every thing and every one. There were flowers and there was the priest, clearly all arrangements have long been made and it was only he who was awaited. He was still in his military fatigues. As he was ushered into the room, he caught a first sight of her. She was still looking radiant and lovely despite it been such a long time. He was posted at a distant place and so he could not be there any sooner. He inched closer to her, fearing the worst, but he had braced himself for this on his 12 hour journey and managed to contain himself. The last rites were completed without too much being said. And he walked back to the same highway he came from. Still in his fatigues and caring his sack. Some times the Soldier comes back home from war, but there is no one waiting for him.