A year gone by

Its so much easier to write on paper- its got something to do with the scratching sounds made by pen on the yellow pages of the diary; the older the better.Well the scientific explanation could be that the vibrations that emanate on paper, travel through the pen, up your hand, through the millions of neurons, causing the tingling sensation in your brain. Ever felt it? - But that's besides the point. After losing eight diaries, I think I'll ought to try and put a little more faith in the blogosphere.

Well, today is the day I joined Nokia exactly a year ago; and I am confused. What should I be feeling now? Should I be happy as this is what I am meant to do? Be a part of the corporate rat race, slowly crawl my way up to the top, or somewhere atleast where the good cheese is? Or is it one step away from where the heart really lies? The bigger question is when is it too late to decide? When do you become so comfortable with your life, that you cant just let go? You just don't have the guts to start over again..

Let me bring up a concept what my geeky comic book friend once told me: "hypertime". Reality is like a river - with infinite tributaries. Most of the time, these alternate timelines go off on their own and never intersect with the main timeline. On occasion, the branches return, feeding back into the main timeline - sometimes permanently, sometimes temporarily. Each decision you take is like a fork in the path - shifting you back and forth among alternate realities - what could have been. The main river is the universe's preferred path for you. So when you stray, it conspires to bring you back.

One year seems to be a fork in the path - the day to re-live the promises you made to yourself someday when you were a kid.

Try as I may, I am the kid on the dive board. Looking down from the top, and scared like hell, hoping someone would push from behind - waiting for the sign, waiting for the push. Man might write his own destiny, but for people like me, I look up to the North Star in the sky to show the way.

When you wake up

Its one of those days, when you dont feel good

Its one of those days, when you have a really bad mood

Your keep lying in bed, your head exploding

You search for a crocin, but the damn thing is missing

You think of last night, had too much to drink

After the 5th drink you had, you stopped to think

Things come back, when you are really high

Things you bury inside, expecting them to die

Then you wake up in the morning, and you heave a sigh

Your eyes are red, and your mouth is dry

Sometimes you wish, you were a kid again

When you didnt know disappointment, you didnt know pain

You didnt know competition, didnt join the race,

You lived your life, in your own little space

Life for you now has become a maze

Money and fame are part of the craze

When I was a kid, all I ever cared

that while playing cricket, my wicket was spared

Life was simple, with no women around

You head was held high, but your feet on the ground

When you mom hugged you, all troubes went away

There was only black and white, no shades of grey

THere was only black and white, no shades of grey