A Delayed Schizophrenia

Oh it’s been a long time.

The above sentence was all that I had prepared for this post. Rest of it, whatever follows, I did not plan for.

[Insert long pause while staring at the WordPress editor, wondering what I am doing here, given that I have nothing to say. Actually, nothing to write. I do have a lot to say]

*

Being good. Let’s talk of that. Being good is so easy, these days. Especially in these days and times. We all are so “aware” of everything that is going on in the world (well, “world” is a sort of exaggeration). World means neighbourhood, actually. We just imagine that the neighbourhood is the world, and are satisfied by that definition. We have quick responses. Most of them witty, topical, and always instant. Not very long ago, it took a lot of effort to dissent. It was, what I would call, a long struggle. These days, not so much. To be angry required effort. Today, all it requires is that you share it on Facebook, forward it to all your WhatsApp group, or create  Twitter thread that has life-span of minutes. In the collective outrage of all the issues in this world, your outrage doesn’t count for much. Outrage today is worth only tonight’s sleep. I tweeted, I shared, I forwarded.

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20 years of anything, has to count for something. Its quality notwithstanding, the quantity itself is worth celebrating. Happy 20 years, yo!

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Given that I had nothing to say when I started this post, I should self-congratulate.

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Best friends seldom ask questions. They just intuit it. Sort of a divination, so to speak. It is actually a Q&A session between them, but nothing is asked, nothing spoken. The evening is spent in songs, beer, and tier-3 jokes. But there’s a parallel conversation. I don’t know how girls do it; boys don’t speak. They just, well, intuit.

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Leave notes. Write letters. Scribble somewhere. Keep the notes safe from natural elements. When you are gone, someone will cherish them. I cherished them. Notes from someone who is long gone. I hope that it will be the same for me. I can hope. I miss you, dear friend.

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Our lives are our own. There is no race. There is no life in a race. There is no race in life.

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