What is life? No, I am not trying to act smart albeit the pseudo-intellectual in me is striving to be a little more vocal today. It all started yesterday when I rummaged through a few million websites for the pirated version of Agneepath; but all they could offer was this:
Still trying to figure out the relevance of this image to what they claimed was a full version of Agneepath. Other links redirected to sites that cannot be described for universal readers (all bookmarked). Dejected over the acts of these treacherous sites, I decided to stand outside my house and search for the meaning of life.
My philosophical trance was interrupted by a stray dog sniffing my toes; however, his quest for precision led him to the lamppost. ‘Lucky you’ I ruminated ‘for the same task, I will have to go all the way back inside.’ Civilization has only created more problems than solutions.
“Chand mera dil”, a savage voice penetrated the silence of the air. Yes, that’s my next door neighbor pronouncing the synonyms of moon. Going by his choice of songs, it’s quite evident that he is completely oblivious of any invention post radio. However, the previous night with a sudden surge of patriotism he yelled “mera rang de basanti chola” - alcohol does bring the best out of you. He paused for a second to search for the most appropriate words to start a conversation, and then asserted observantly “man, your hair has turned gray, you look sad.” Well, what can you expect from a person who hasn’t uttered more than 100 character counts in last several years? But I need to be careful with my gray hair now, will check out some of those cheap hair dyes. A girl from my neighborhood greeted me on her way to college “hello uncle.” Yup hair dye it’s going to be.
Couple of years left before I turn forty. They say ‘life begins at 40’, hope they have some supporting evidence to justify this claim as I don’t see any logic behind this statement. Sounds more like a fallacy of some frustrated 40-year-old lunatic who did absolutely nothing throughout his life other than coming up with this outrageous statement, which he professed will be an axiom one day. Anyway I don’t have any other option but to count on this because even I am not doing anything significant other than getting closer to that landmark.
Now, I have a few things on my bucket list, out of which at least two need to be addressed before I turn forty; six pack abs and a tattoo on my back, upper back, yeah. First one looks highly unrealistic and should ideally prompt my gym instructor to search for that hair dye before I do, but will start working on it once I get a guide book for the followings:
1. Effective use of six pack abs.
2. How to display your six pack in a crowded market place.
Tattoo; long overdue. Of late, few tattoo studios sprouted up here in my town but I have seen some grimacing faces coming out of those studios. So, with due respect to their expertise, I do not want a déjà vu of the surgery which I had during childhood. I would rather traverse few thousand kilometers to get it done.
My neighbor changed his track with a little more input from his epiglottis this time – “khoya khoya chaaaand.” Subject remains the same; yup, that stupid moon. From an active sportsperson to an acclaimed alcoholic, the journey has been pretty eventful for him. But when he flips through his certificates, do they take him down the memory lane to those bright sunny days? I am sure they do. Good, bad or ugly, memories always come with a tinge of pain blended with them. Life is like that video game where every level is unique, mulling over the previous level will only jeopardize the current one. Like Super Mario we need to go zoom and collect all the stars and dodge those fireballs. It’s all about finishing the game on a high.