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Life
by Dwarika Prasad Uniyal Bookmark and Share
 
This hour when no one is at office, gone back to respective homes, when the silence reins supreme and a creaking sound of typing disturbs the equilibrium for a while. Cool breeze rustles and brushes past my shoulder when I occasionally glance outside my window.

The loneliness of night where the darkness casts its shadow over all and all big mango trees standing at a furlong's distance look like huge devils about which I have read in child hood stories. The far away city lights gives an illusion of firefly coming towards me.. all this and wandering thoughts making rounds all around me like the marathon runner, running and running till exhaustion. Writing, using this keyboard, straining my eyes in front of glaring monitor, which reminds me of one terrible class monitor who used to stare at us with disdain. 

Typing down all these and saving them as well in the memory of the computer through the transition of data from random access memory (RAM) to hard disk. RAM is like the sand on beach. Whatever we write or draw, it stays there only to be washed away by the next wave, ready for new words and creations.

Isn't our life analogous to a computer? 

At this hot and humid place even the AC's refuse to work inspired by the power cutting movement of Gujrat Electricity Board, so much so for inspiration, leading to perspiration. The fast moving fan above tries to do the job diligently with each pane bifurcating the air and evenly distributing in the room. Poor chap getting hot in the process due to constant friction. 

Between all these thoughts and afterthoughts, I am desperately trying to figure out what is life? Isn't that at certain times we run short of ideas or they seem to be dried up. Is life more than I, me, my life, friends, families, loved ones, careers, problems, and situations, past, present and future? Dreams, fears, goals, objectives, money or lack of it, material pleasures or the spiritual ones? A journey, having a certain beginning and end or a drama, in which all of us play the characters whole of our lives. Is it a hundred-meter race, we try to finish as quickly as we can or a marathon that seems unending at times? Expectations, of parents, peers, friends, employer, or of own constantly putting weights and we try to lift them like a weight lifter.. Responsibilities towards own life, families, spouse, kids, their kids. On and on..

What is life then?

A mad race, where every one is running and running like hell, Perhaps a question, which is always left, unanswered or an unsolved puzzle!!
12-Oct-2000
More by :  Dwarika Prasad Uniyal
 
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Solitude and other poems by Rajender Krishan
 


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