I, Me, Myself

So it's the fag end of the year and I ask myself where was I last year at the same time?! And how is this any different from what it was 365 days back? Have I done all that I set out to do? To see, hear and feel... Have I had happy conquests and numbing losses? What've I learnt? And more importantly, what've I unlearnt?!  Have I lived atleast a few days to the fullest, enough to refresh my spirit? Have I looked on upon the wondrous valleys? Have I gazed at the starry sky with a heavenward prayer at my lip?  As the clock ticks towards closure on another chapter, I vow, to break free of vows! To wonder, to wander. To imagine and to discover! To breathe in the happiness of the human spirit, to relive the warmth of hug on a moonlit night!  To live ... To life!

It gushes forth, a harried flurry then a steady drizzle. Yet as I peek though the hourglass , my mind is at  a standstill.  The last few grains trickle by unflinched.

Into your mind i peek, Yet I  hear not the speak. The myriad oddities you do utter, While you smile and mutter. I know not what goes on out there. Boiling in your minds inner lair. But as I look into yonder, I can't help but wonder, Oh dear boy, what is it that you need, To my medicines will you not heed, And yet you battle each day, To understand or to be understood I can't say. Through the annals of history I pore, You're story so unique yet shared by so many more. From Bleuler to Schneider, Sure our knowledge has grown wider, But yet not can I tell, The voice will be banished to hell. But m'lad, This is the journey we embark upon, For every night has a dawn. And so it shall be, The caverns of your mind one day light shall see.

Growing up in a big city, I always had my weekends packed with the myriad of mundane that we metropolitan dwellers are acquainted with. And so, since the time I've shifted to this quaint little town , nestled in the belly of this hot, fire breathing land, the first question I ask of the locals is," What do you do here on weekends?" ... I get a general matter-of-fact shrug and a 'you know ...' look! The answer though remains elusive. But of course, there's this big beast called google which has intruded all our lives, and so be it the charming countryside or the bustling city centre , we're doing much the same thing. Selling our souls to the internet! However, on this charming afternoon, following a stirring session with Dr.A, a bunch of us headed down a different path. A few scrapes and grazes and a little more uphill effort later we were there, atop College Hill! The view from atop the hill!                                 

    In the mad rush of today’s outpatient department , even as I noted the duration of his cough and enquired about the tremulousness of his hand, I could , feel the ticking hands of the clock breathing down my neck. The corridor outside my tiny room was overflowing with the sick and the needy, ebbing with tales of pain and sorrow. They sat there pleading to be heard, hoping to be understood, and above all, praying to be cured. I felt overawed by this sheer deluge that was now at my doorstep, people, families from far and wide were here, having battled long queues and prolonged waiting lists running into months just to obtain this appointment. Would the next few minutes they spend with me put a name on their suffering, or would they still be wandering in the dark corridors of ambivalence, oscillating between hope and despair.  The next few minutes, that is all I have to understand this person’s elaborate story spanning a third of his life, a story of his pain in the arm , and