Book in process – opening piece 1

Some stories need to be told. They have general good of the reader inherent in them. They can teach him something, may be change his life for the better a little. They may not in reality but the intention is there. This is not one such story. In fact it is not even a story. It is a tale of tales. Narrating loose tales in themselves is never interesting enough. One needs to bind them together, form a pattern, give them a shape for the reader to feel that it is something worth discovering. As I begin to tell it I am not even sure what am I going to talk about. I have some loose idea though. I am going to talk about myself. I am going to talk about things which have happened to me and which make me really interesting person to know. Of course, most of them would be fictional. Let me begin with telling you about myself. I am a 24 year old guy who has just got admission into the most hallowed of all places in Indian education system, IIMA. The place where many of us would aspire to end up at. I have been one such aspirant myself. Atleast ever since I heard about it for the first time at the age of 17. Now that I stand at that point where my dream has come true, I face a dilemma. My dilemma is whether or not should I join the place. The question I am asking myself tonight is, is this an answer to my prayers or a joke on my fate. Is it an opportunity to capture or a disaster to avoid. To most of you my question would not make sense. Of course you should join, what else is there to be done. But this my friend is my bigger dilemma. If I choose to listen to my heart and decide not to enter the place, how the hell will I justify it to the world. How the hell will I meet my friends from my engineering college and my software company who have already put me on a demi-god position. What will I tell them to the question that they will never ask in words but with blank faces. For telling them what is in my heart will be too damn difficult. It will be impossible to put it mildly. How will I tell them that it is not a simple matter of choice, that it not just a matter of who I am and what I want to be. That it not just about what my current situation in life is and how all of it appears to be getting twisted with this thing which has fallen into my lap without any warning. How will I explain them that though I had toiled for it for years now, that though I dreamt of it for so long, now, now that it has happened, I am thinking of forego it because that is what God appears to be asking from me. Because to tell them this would require to tell them the whole story. To take them to the places I have been, to the people I have known, to the life I have lived. I will have to tell them about all the people I have met and have never been able to forget. I will have to narrate all the good, bad and ugly which happened to me and stayed on in my heart ever since. I will have to explain them each piece of hurt, each joy and each exuberation. I will have to indulge in self love and self obsession. Such a task it will be though I would love to do so. For if there is one thing I love doing then it is talking about myself. And somehow everytime I do this I find that it is really worth it and there could not have been a better spend of my time and of course of the listener’s. Though most people, as people are do not have the courtesy to express their gratitude after I have shared my time with them and shown pieces of my life to them. Most of them end up giving a blank look and an irritating gentle nod which I take as a sign of their stupidity. Though I must concede that even in today’s selfish world there are indeed some individuals who still follow courtesy. These are fellows who laugh at me, sorry laugh at my tales. And it is indeed their gestures and laughs which encouraged me and has given me strength to narrate the story of my life, the reason of my dilemma in complete detail. With all the descriptions which come to my mind every time I think about it. All the slices which mix and match and become a mish mash and hound me like a beast. All the memories, hope, desires which come back to bite me and leave my heart in tatters. Such a heart wrenching situation they throw me in. How do I throw it all away in one night after having come so close. How can destiny do this to me. I always thought of myself as the chosen one. But I wanted choice in the matter of what I am chosen for. And this decision, this moment, this quagmire, I refuse to be in. I never asked for it, I didn’t long for it, I didn’t deserve this. Why should fate bring different pieces of my life together in such a way that their future appears to be hanging on my decision. Why the hell should I have to choose the direction of my life when I don’t get to choose what square I will land in. And let me tell you, this is not a fun story. It is a dark story. It is a story of suffering, of pain and of helplessness. But then who in the world want to hear the true story so I will add some humor and some cheap material to keep you going. But let me repeat it once again do not believe in all that stuff. For though I will be writing it, I have never really been part of it nor is it part of my imagination or fancy. I am having to include it just keep you glued to it for it is way too difficult for people to handle my true story, the dark one. For who wants to know that world is such a sucking place that it can make you want to not live. That it can make you puke at it and at what it has made out of you. That it can suffocate you so much that you begin to want to live. That it can throw you in such darkness and not heed to any of your pleads that it will force you to take cudgels and stand up on your two little wobbling feet and proclaim with all your strength, come on you fucking life, come on. Pile me with all the shit you have and I promise you I will not be bogged down. Come and throw me into any further abyss you have. Show me all your might. Is it all you can do to me or there is more you have. For I am not finished yet. For I have decided to fight you. For I have decided to fight, not for victory but for making sure that next time you decide to play your sick sense of humor on anyone else, you should know that the man is capable of turning the heat on you. That you may win in the end for you play a game with your own rules, but ride will not be all that easy for you. For there will be times, when the man will rise will all his might after you have deserted him after sucking the last drop of blood from him. He will rise and spit in your face in defiance and you would be able to do nothing for you are already finished with him. So be prepared to lose this time for I am playing to win.


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