And It’s Half DOne Yet

I looked out of the window.It was cold out there, colder then in here , inside the room.Strong ground guzzling sound of trucks was penetrating the feary silence of night.Every nook and corner was infiltrated by the haze.A shallow mist hanging right few feet over the ground.Like all of a sudden, distance between stars and the earth collapsed into few meters.The only visible object was a neem tree.Silent! standing like a branched pillar.Leaves were calm but sad, not sleepy at ol.I looked around.I thought , He will come.My friend Rupesh.He left half drunk.I observed continence. I usually do not.But at home, U cant argue against ur principles.Yes, sometimes i do get carried away.After all we are human’s. Made to err, No? By the way, I registered my self again on Facebook.Though I feel Social media as an important way to express ourselves, yet something in me argues for solitude.I prefer books over People.Often, Dog’s fight at nights act as a reminder, Not All are Asleep…No? During the last six days, the number of dogfights overtook actual number of dogs.Sometimes I hate it.Yes I know, Its an expression of life, But it’s fucking chaotic.It breaks the rhythm of night. Nothing , I feel in this world is more beautiful then the rhythm that night attains.Its smooth and as a friend Calls every time, “Nice”. This calmness looks nice.To seek it in chaos, makes it more valuable.The day to day chaos.Past six days flew like a bird.There was fear before that.A fear not of failure but of an nonviable attempt to success.The barrier was high.And our weak mind often construes meager things as an exaggerated  expression of reality.Fear was natural, for an insight into losing some very attainable point of peak experience fills us with a deep psychological pressure.I turned so many pages, that i forget counting them.Black ink soaked pages.Repeated underlines had a different story.That someone went through them many a times, yet failed to recollect them.No, Not the meaning, but the exact expression.Word by word.For some it’s important that u become machine in process.They force you to go through same things so many times, that you will become a simple cog in the machine.A fitting nut–maybe.Some nights went sleepless, Almost. And some went in fighting with the sleepy hollow.Green carpet on my floor almost got occupied with a heap of useless waste.The A4 size waste.The whole spine went through the tyranny  of constructing a machine out of this meaty loaf called body.I think I m exaggerating it.Often I took it in lighter way.It needs to be, for human has much to achieve and aspire  than to become mere a bull.Doing repetitive tasks ever and ever again.The whole nature of modern system has changed into an exploitative one.Six hours of continuous writing on a wall, and yet the demand remains unsatisfied.As and when I looked down the two floors, to the ground from the balcony adjacent to the rum where i was allotted a no, I saw machines.Knowledge workers , may be.After ol attempt is to make exploitation symbolically attractive, No?I differ with Marx. Strongly differ with him.His ways were radical.Aspirational.His attempt was bold.But his understanding was one of the best thing.The most lucrative thing, for any oppressed.Though i differ with him yet somewhere when it comes to recruitments into civil services, I cannot but confer with him.The whole attempt is to make it elitist.More machinic.More distant from the general conscience.If there were some not so good things then there were some good tooTall girls attract you immediately.But the percentage was below 2%.See quantification has become an inherent trait.We use to pass smile.Sometimes , there was a strong urge to reach out to her.Her pencil bottom jeans, reaching just upto her bellies.Oh! no, it was a converse shoe. Her round face, with a mole right below at the left of her lower lip.Not adjacent but a few centimeters away from it.She was calm, pleasant and her nose was sharp pointed.Chin was round. Overall face was round and complexion a bit dusky.Dusky looks sexxy No.Six days we met and had eye contact. No words exchanged.May be she was expecting me to take the first step.May be i was to thinking the same.May be there was something tied inside me, which revoked myself.  And finally we crossed each other and walk along different lines, May be to never meet each other, Perhaps Yes.

SO the fight is on.The effort is for a change.And to bring forth change one requires authority.”Authority commensurate to responsibility” as Fayol argued.After all these moments of last night fights one feels, what the fuck have you been doing  through out all those years.But to remember, Human beings suffer from what Simon called Bounded Rationality.The utility maximizer after all these efforts feels, So much for so little ,”And Yet, Its Half DOne”.

Shiven

 

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