Posts Tagged ‘alone’

Office: The After-Lunch Files

In My Files on April 21, 2011 at 4:18 pm

I am sitting on an oddly shaped table with my laptop a little higher than comfortable and my head tilted to the left. This position will probably give me a sore neck and a head ache in sometime. If there is one thing I want to change about offices it is their tables and chairs. Both must be made adjustable.

*stares at the empty soft-board*

My body seems to have conveniently exceeded the normal oxygen consumption level used for digestion. And it is making me feel really drowsy. Even the bright pink building walls, outside my window, are unable to shock me to normalcy. I am trying to hide my yawns. I am alternating between resting my head on the desk and staring into blank spaces.


It’s been eleven days since my last post. My sense of humour is taking a little walk. Alright, a long walk. Alright, maybe you believe I didn’t have one to begin with.

*stares at the screen*

This post has no purpose. It’s a random rant of a droopy human being. I am sure you sound worse in this state, especially after overeating. I had considered inserting time stamps to describe my hourly journey toward recovery.

 “Thursday 21 April 2011 12.30pm I am watching the pigeons get entertained by the rotating fans of the air conditioners. I see two dusty toilet commodes on the first floor balcony of the neighbouring office building. My analysis of the layout of the building and their common balcony tells me that the commodes are right outside the toilet. Two floors above that, I see a well connected flush. I fail to imagine what wonders a flush placed outside the toilet can do.”

The write up was beginning to sound like an excerpt from A Prison Diary, so, I dropped it.

I think I have more-or-less recovered from the trauma. I’d like to get back to work.


Another Fool’s Paradise: Not Lonely Yet Alone

In Dissecting Life on February 16, 2011 at 2:21 pm

Image by: MrHope :: Image License

Sometimes you scan a room full of people and think about the story each one weaves. A story you don’t know. A story you will never know.

As a child I remember lying on my bed, staring into the dark and wondering if my parents would rush to my room if I screamed. I get that feeling, off and on, even today. It’s weird how your life is (more or less) confined to your body. All you know is yourself in that room. You know every moment, movement, emotion and position that you are in. When someone walks into the room, you perceive his moment, movement, emotion and position from your perspective. But the minute the person walks out of your sight, you don’t know anything about him. When a few minutes pass and he is still out of your sight and cannot be tracked by your ears either, it feels as though you’ve missed a part of his life. While you experience your life continuously, all you see is fractions of others’ lives. The only time you experience lives together is when you are a conjoint twin or when you are pregnant. All other times you are alone. It’s an odd feeling. It doesn’t make you feel lonely; it’s just awareness of your aloneness.

Alone, aware of it and sometimes unable to handle it, I can feel the universe point at me and grin– “You can’t do anything about it!” But I snap back –“I can pray. I am a part of you. You have to converge to separate me from ‘aloneness’.” The universe sighs, “So, you are telling me that life is complex, absurd and haphazard and all you can do is pray? Is that your solution?” Taken aback, I respond, “They say I need to blend into you.” The universe laughs, “You’ll blend into me when you die, whether you like it or not. While you are alive, just keep yourself occupied.”

Now I am alone, aware of it and speechless. It reminds me how depending on the universe only makes me weaker. So, I just grab the hand of every living being and experience life with them, although intermittently. I experience each one’s illusion with them and live each fool’s paradise.