Monday, April 21, 2008


There are times when things seem to be going okay-ish. It’s somewhat similar to riding a bike to school. You know that it’s not something you like doing. But it’s not killing you either. So you pedal along, half expecting that someday the school will turn out to be nearer than it really is. And you could have waited for that day, knowing very well that it would never happen. You believe in your dream. Your bohemia. Your palace of cards.

But then, somewhere down the line, the ice cream vendor very slyly gives you a piece of his wisdom, free of cost, along with that cone of vanilla flavoured delight you have just bought. He, of course, tells you the truth, shattering the long nurtured dream. It’s then that you break down, feeling decimated and blinded by the realization. You had loved him. Hadn’t you? Each time he had served his delectable delicacy. But now, all you see is the palace of cards crashing down, demolished by a friendly gale. It’s then you realize that it wasn’t the bully you should have been frightened of all this while. It’s the friendly neighbourhood candy man. The one who gave you bonus dollops of utopia every time you smiled just a little bit more.

Then you wonder. Just a little bit. Every time you are left alone to your devices. Was it worth it? The little moments of joy you shared with him. Were they worth the pain you were now destined to endure? The knowledge that your fleeting glimpses of bliss had caused you your lingering uneasiness. Would it prove to be your undoing? The realization that your happiness had come to be inextricably intertwined with that perpetual fear of misery. Would you be able to shrug it off with a humph and continue seeking your bohemia?



  1. Seriously, what would you do?

  2. Don't answer a question with another questions Mr. Piper. It's not ethical.

  3. I got what you tried to show me. I knew it too. But well..
    As for the writing, your prose is a little bit like poetry.. musical yes. but also the music is somewhat private to you.