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Sunday, April 24, 2011


It is a warm but windy Sunday afternoon.
I have finished my chores for the day and am outside in the sun warming myself while the wind combs through my hair. I have my diary before me and a pen. I am playing some soulful songs on my mobile.
I look at the city sprawling below me. Concrete buildings, people and cars… is moving at its pace.
Then suddenly, I ask myself: What am I doing? Where am I headed? What lies before me in the unknown future?
A sense of emptiness fills me and a brooding melancholy occupies my thoughts. Ever felt like you are not living, simply existing? Ever felt like you have run your race? There is nothing to look forward to and a few regrets to mull over.
If the world were to end now, what would I lose? Nothing. I would die happily.
No dreams, no aspirations, no hopes.
Loneliness, sadness and a mild feeling of lethargy.
What is happening to me? I feel so alone.
Like a lone observer in a metropolitan crowd.
The world is moving but I am stuck.
Life has come to a stand still for me. There is no pleasure in living and laughing.
I put on a pair of converse and plug in the headphones.
I head for a long, lonely, leisurely walk. People are staring at me. Most probably because I am wearing shorts (Damn the Bhutanese mentality!)
Cars honk and swerve by me. I don’t care. I put the same song on repeat twenty times. I like the sadness in it, the acoustics evokes feelings in me.
I have loved and lost.
Memories, guilt, regrets.
More stares and a few wolf whistles. I walk on, uncaring, unseeing.
What is this? Emotional inertia? I am tired now. I don’t feel like looking people in the eyes. I avoid gazes and walk on, looking down at the buildings, roads and new constructions and at my shoes.
Did that white lady who just passed by smile at me? I am in no mood for smiles or gaiety.
A tall, beautiful lady all dolled up, most probably for the wedding function going on by the side way passes me.
I look at my short legs (in shorts, for God’s sake!) and think would the world look different if I were a bit taller?
In an hour and a half, my mourning (pun intended) walk has ended.
I am back at home. I fix myself a cup of tea and get into bed.
I remember I am resigning from work on Tuesday.
And I wonder what will become of me at this rate.
Fine. I gulp down another cup of tea ( I am bloating up depressingly) and try to think of something else.
Dad is coming over tonight. He said he would cook chicken for me. That is the only saving grace.
Let’s see what happens. Let me take a day at a time.

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