i am posting this with a therapeutic cause in mind.i believe that for me writing is the only and ultimate way i can solve my problems.instead of venting my shortcomings,anger,and frustration on someone i choose to articulate them here.consider these black letters the questions to my answers.
It is indeed a universally accepted idea, and obviously such an acceptance thrives from the shrewd regulation which one does to feel comfortable, that good times soon follow the bad ones. Autobiographies, biographies, memoirs, history, literature, sports and day to day events bear witness to it. ‘Hard times will pass on’ is indeed one of the most overtly used, cheaply understood, and widely acclaimed themes of our human existence, and its history.
With a proportion lesser than that of the sand particle by the shore of any sea, I am not here to refute these claims. All these should be true, and like my uncle srini I too cannot stress more than this. If not, why would all of us succumb to this delusion of things sorting amongst themselves? But the state which I am passing makes me feel, and I believe that this is true, that some things in life do not sort out; they are there not to change. No matter whatsoever happens there are a few people who, and the relationship which they inhabit in which, are so imperfectly managed that calling them an ill matched pair would be nothing but a misnomer. And when one is drawn amidst this kind of a relationship all alone, to face it every day and get depressed without any fault of his or hers is a bonus which demands an overtime of 8 hours a day!
It seems that life for me has ran amuck and instead of being blessed by what I want, not money or material things, I am always offered in bountiful things and situations which are simply not worth encountering. The facts that I have got nowhere for my higher studies, and that I am technically an unemployed person can be handled with a sensible approach. But added to these shortcomings, which indeed test me and my character, certain situations make me totally helpless. And the gross ineffectuality which I experience in these renders me frustrated. Perhaps the people who indulge in this kind of a foolish and totally dishonest relationship should realize that amidst them there is one person who is an objective observer and for whom the kind of environment they are generating can encapsulate me in a hazardous cocoon where I can suffocate to a state of perpetual depression and senselessness.
But the irony is that even though I know that such selfish people, who only flatter their false ego and lead a life plundered by dishonest compromises, will never realize what my concerns are. I will still wish they could.
It is indeed a universally accepted idea, and obviously such an acceptance thrives from the shrewd regulation which one does to feel comfortable, that good times soon follow the bad ones. Autobiographies, biographies, memoirs, history, literature, sports and day to day events bear witness to it. ‘Hard times will pass on’ is indeed one of the most overtly used, cheaply understood, and widely acclaimed themes of our human existence, and its history.
With a proportion lesser than that of the sand particle by the shore of any sea, I am not here to refute these claims. All these should be true, and like my uncle srini I too cannot stress more than this. If not, why would all of us succumb to this delusion of things sorting amongst themselves? But the state which I am passing makes me feel, and I believe that this is true, that some things in life do not sort out; they are there not to change. No matter whatsoever happens there are a few people who, and the relationship which they inhabit in which, are so imperfectly managed that calling them an ill matched pair would be nothing but a misnomer. And when one is drawn amidst this kind of a relationship all alone, to face it every day and get depressed without any fault of his or hers is a bonus which demands an overtime of 8 hours a day!
It seems that life for me has ran amuck and instead of being blessed by what I want, not money or material things, I am always offered in bountiful things and situations which are simply not worth encountering. The facts that I have got nowhere for my higher studies, and that I am technically an unemployed person can be handled with a sensible approach. But added to these shortcomings, which indeed test me and my character, certain situations make me totally helpless. And the gross ineffectuality which I experience in these renders me frustrated. Perhaps the people who indulge in this kind of a foolish and totally dishonest relationship should realize that amidst them there is one person who is an objective observer and for whom the kind of environment they are generating can encapsulate me in a hazardous cocoon where I can suffocate to a state of perpetual depression and senselessness.
But the irony is that even though I know that such selfish people, who only flatter their false ego and lead a life plundered by dishonest compromises, will never realize what my concerns are. I will still wish they could.
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