It all began in September! 4

A bad day at office, a restless mind, a dream breathing inside the cubicle that life has finally reduced to. When you reach home, put off the lights, contemplating, tune into your favorite world space station… everything seems like a distant island, You floating into the clouds of  “what you always loved, and what you didn’t achieve” September always gives me a feeling of a new beginning. Its hauntingly beautiful.

Sleep-Walking: Pink Floyd once sang,

“Step taken forward, but sleep walking back again”.

It’s not just another line in the song, its darn realization. And what I feel is

Captured in one lonely winter Evening.

that, the people who have this realization in life find another way of living. It’s like they unearth a visual fantasy, a world known only to their clan, their aspirations and their dreams. It’s like time traveling down the ghosts of the pasts, where you and your ego are two different animals. Scratching and clawing at each other. Always in the race for survival! Trying to get the better of the other, always and you, the present is caught in the middle of it. It all began in September, I changed over to a new track, set aside all the past pains, and heartaches, I started my professional career, I fell in love, I lost love, I fell really sick, I came through it. I found a new definition of hard times, I got my transfer to Calcutta, I lost a social circle, I joined a new one, I started missing Mumbai, I got over love. But now the dust that had been disturbed is slowly settling down, and life has started moving as it should have for me. And this entire sequence of humdrum, happened within a span of one year. Now, when I start looking back, I feel like, the past year I must have rode on someone else’s luck. That was not supposed to happen. The way I have lived the 23 years of life, peaceful, simple, dreamy, struggling, everything seemed to have gone as if life is just the whiffs and whims of an animal named destiny. The strange thing is that, at times I feel that the things that happened are so far away now, as if they can never happen to me, once again. Last September actually lasted an almost a year for me. Another has begun, thus…

Walking away I see the pain,

You put me through-

Lost in your game to change the same

Forever gone, forever you


Speed-of light: yes, forever gone, but still its forever you. I want to live life fast, faster than the speed of light. So that I lose you, faster than I actually can. Just as the night crawls, into the darkened hemispheres of my dreams, I feel I have lost many of them. I was destined to be the sea, and I actually loved the feeling of this unrealistic poetic crap, but you can’t hold on to dead dreams, if you did, you would be breathless. There have been two things which I use to associate the color green with. One is grass, and the eternal night bird Floyd, the second was money. There’s a trance in both of them, a sense of unrealistic beauty, and rhythm divine, both can actually kill… All I feel now is silence, I try to speak to it, at times, and it never betrays me, it always comes to me, caressing me, and reminding of the days once lived, but it comes as a third person, a different soul, somewhere, sometime, I had torn apart that umbilical chord, unknowingly. Walking away from you has been another chapter, I dread talking about. That night still is young that last hug, that last touch. I just pray to god, that the dust never settles down. I was in love with that life, its forever you. Some wishes, some dreams, Happiness is just a habit. It doesn’t really matter at the end of the day, whether you have been sleep-walking to your past lives or moving along the future tracks, carrying your dreams and aspirations. What matters is IF at the end of the day you are happy. Cut the ego, cut the pain, the survival mantra is to move on, Slow down, change pace, go back, come running to the front line, at the end of the day, people will ask you, How much did you achieve. It’s then that you can really derive the equation of your happiness quotient. You need to capture life, in still frames, to cultivate this habit of happiness, every aspect of life, un-noticed, un-practiced, un-acknowledged.

Life – In a beat that’s missed

In a thought that’s skipped,

In a dream that’s whisked!

Somebody told me that life is “lived” in bits and pieces, though negative in the sense, but true to its every word!

Wake me when September ends.


About Dream Peddler

The author finds too many similarities with himself and the boy Calvin. Although a cold blooded techie, working with an Indian software MNC, the finer things of love and life fascinates him. Major portions of his work are about the things that inspires and pacifies. Politics and society too get a chance.

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