I used to eat sweets slowly.

I used to eat sweets slowly, very very slowly, savouring every mouth watering nibble. Somewhere along I started gulping them down and that’s when I started losing. I can’t give you an exact date, sorry friend. Nevertheless I would like to savour them like before; for then I was smarter and more importantly innocent enough to believe that sweets are sweeter when taken slowly. Somewhere along I lost the innocence. Till yesterday I did not care who the fuck would be reading my blog. Today I am too tired to care. But I hope I will wake refreshed tomorrow.

My school gave me a few tools and my teachers blessed them on farewell day. I put them in my bag, carried the magis, and returned home a proud loyolite with an ex- in between. Today I spotted my old school bag but the tools had rusted. I was awed and wasted no time in cleaning them with oil and paint. They lie beside me now sparkling neat and ready. But I find my shoulders weak for the day, and I can bear them only after a nice long rest.

I have lived with people and I have seen that some of them are driven. I have seen people go to all ends. I have seen focus and determination. I have badly wanted to identify with them. I was disillusioned, and the general fabric of my college fuelled my disillusionment. It was all because of my inability to watch-out for detail. The lack of an eye for detail, I understand, now that I reflect in retrospect.

I come from extenuating circumstances, friend. But that is no longer reason to me.

I have lived with people and some of them have been exceptional in thought and deed. I have stood positively aghast at them. There are people who have a special knack to run the world. There are good people in the world. No wonder I managed truck loads of blood for my father before he packed his bags. Unfair to him, he was given no choice but to pack. But getting back to those special people, I found them invigourating.

I have found them dotting my schoolscape, my college’s fabric, my cityscape, and the alumini of my institutions. That’s clue enough for me to tell they dot the world. And what did I take from them? Did I come home tired that I badly needed sleep because my energies were spent to make the world a changed place; that I felt a heart-warming satisfaction? Did I? Did I not shy away from my jobs when they were ready and lay?

I waited for people to pick them when I could have.

I have lived with people and some of them have been truly unconscionable. I have never even sensed the meaning of being so until off very late. I have lived with people and some of them have been all filth. Shame on me that I chanced by them with an eye for detail off-late! Who is a friend, my friend? The one who tells you to tag along and gives you his scale? I am sad that I buried mine in my schoolbag and I had to use other peoples’ scales and weighing pans when I had mine. The real friend would instinctively prod you to your own devices. I found today that my friends are those people who go home drained of their energies after having diverted them through the day for all that they thought were worth fighting for.

I do not know you by first name friend, because you keep changing shape and form. But you come to me everyday with your quests. I have felt exhilarated by your energy. You have no name because you are not always one and the same. But I do not feel a difference for I identify not with you but your trademark manoeuvrability.

You are free to slap me on my face from tomorrow on, but you better have a reason.

Did I do what I felt is right? Did I drain my energy for what calls I got? Did I answer them, my calls? If so, you have no reason to slap me. And I know that you won’t if I keep these few records straight. Did I eat my sweets slowly and then you can fuck off unmindful of the slap.

Tomorrow you would find me head held high, my weight on my sturdy legs, traversing the college lobby with a clear conscience and a broad mind. Tomorrow you would find me at the school chapel, palpably silent and devout. You would even find me home reading the works of great men. You might even see me take a voluptuous bite from a coffee brown cookie careful to melt it in my mouth before sinking it down in slow speed and mirth. If not as I said you can slap me but I won’t give you even a wanton chance.

Spare me for today but, for I need a nice long sleep.