Ideal Sunday

a dream
7.00 AM hit the gym and workout hard
9.00 AM eat food like a devil
10.00 AM watch da latest flick on lappy
1.00 PM eat da favourite dish in da chic restaurent down da street
3.00 PM hit the bed and sleep like a baby
6.00 PM call the tennis buddy, and play like mad
9.00 PM watch da second latest flick on lappy
11.00 PM meet friends and chat/smoke/eat like hell
2.00 AM read that kewl book
3.00 AM sleep like a baby

a nightmare
9.00 PM and am still in office :(

Broken promises and Far away lands!

I promised myself sometime back that i will never be poetic.
Much of the reason was that poems hurt more than they sooth.


But, i break my promise today. yet again!

.........................

Walking into the meadows
I listened to the grass whispering
Silence.
Nothing to hear but everything to understand.

All the significant details: the crucial meetings,
deadlines to meet, oh please!
Vanished into a far away land
They call it Utopia

This vehicle – my body,
engine and headlights on,
ready and humming.

Flying bird
Stop here and listen to the music
There is nothing ahead!

Yes.

Just another letter in the box!

When i was a kid, like when i was very very kid, like around 5-6 years old, i dreamt of being a postman! It was a feverish dream and i used to get all excited whenever i saw a postman. Some insane logic of my newly built mind told me that since postman got all the important letters, he must be a very influential man. I was also led to believe by my friends back then that the postman's bag typically has lots of chocolates and other similar treasures. I took their word for it and just kept on building on my dream for about a year or so.....





Soon, i began to grow older and wiser or so i believe. The idiot box and other shapes of idiots taught me the real value chain of the workings of the postman (for 5 yr olds who are reading this..........it works like this: letter->postbox->postoffice->headoffice->postoffice->postman. a typical postman is very very poor and doesn't have any hidden choclates in his bag)

For many years later, whenever i felt a little intelligent like when i cracked an exam or something, the dream used to come back to haunt me and i felt this strange guilt for being such a dumb thing.

Average men typically learn from half of their mistakes. Really gifted men learn from only one of them and they never touch the hot stove again! I belong to such a category and so do many people i know.

Years have changed, things have changed, people have changed (nah...only their shapes have changed), and the postman is even poorer now all thanks to the e-mail. But, somethings like nerolac paint and stupidity never change, or so they say. But, I have changed. Being a Postman don't excite me anymore.

The world has changed rapidly owing to all the globalization, aids and other diseases. The idea of postmen has been replaced in my mind by the idea of investment bankers/fundmanagers/entrepreneurs. Friends tell me they have lots of choclates(money) in their bags and i still believe some of them. The idiot box has given way to the idiot web and all kinds of media feeds tell me that these guys are the real rich postmen.

I might still end up chasing the dream. We all end-up chasing dreams. But, you know the result, right? And if you are still a 5 year old, you might have still got a little chance to save your precious little freedom. Switch off that damn TV, tear off the newspapers, ditch that friend who bugs you about all the great things you can buy if you had a little more money. Just go blind to all such nonsense. And may be then, you still have a little chance of being the real rich postman. And that ain't got anything to do with money or chocolates.

Note: I wish there were blogs when i was 5!
Note1: If you want to read further on why smart people do dumb things, read this guy's blog at http://blog.guykawasaki.com/2006/09/why_smart_peopl.html

Just like that!

This happens with me. Does it with you?