Slinging scribbles

I ran as fast as I could, only to realise that the race wasn't about running. T'was more about knowing. Knowing, there's a plague that makes you run. The plague, that scares you to run, but alas!Not knowing makes you run harder.... All of us must have issues, Issues for your perusal, no? learn to mock patience! Run, let your house burn, flames purging hunger, zeal, while its silent out there, all of it! Atleast you nod rightly, 'hang' in there, right? Sorry Snooty, not the challenge I picked. And yes I ran, but stopped clocking the time long before I finished. Knowing, I ran and knowing I must stop. Chuckle, chuckle,

For the past few years, I have reduced my writing to pretty much nothing barring a few poems. While writing for me essentially is to share my pain, it hardly means that I haven't been sad, because that would mean I beat the crap out of the World Records for being the happiest guy in the world. Perhaps,I was being human, being lazy I mean. Also, the 'me' time has been taken over by lot of formalities that  are either been self-inflicted or perhaps, had something to do with 'being Indian'. There is something about going to office day in and day out, It is called monotony. All your dream find spaces, not in the cubicles. actually, only in your brains. Perhaps, offices are meant to give you that 'kick'. They are meant for you to realise your worth, and thereby, your work, equally montonous.  The only way, we break the monotony, is by changing jobs, then bosses, either or all, till you are forty. Ofcourse, but before breaking into forty, you do read a lo...