The friends who still are ... friends!

Life is the best teacher. Life also plays you for a fool.

Many a times you find yourself at a cross-road. Doumbfounded you stand and wait. You can't move ahead, the failures of love and life dissuade you. The inertia of past and horrors of future deter you. You can't go back, someone else is in you shoes and there's no room for you. You can't move ahead, the burden of past is too heavy to carry. And this strange cross-road has no other ways except the two!

You wait. Wait for courage to move. Help from self. But it's the life which has closed all doors. You want to move but you are petrified; legs glued. But you have to go on, the clock's ticking. Stagnant you are. People think you are a fool, an idiot wasting your time. It could be that you were and are?

Waiting for that opport-unity, that which never knocked you door. Maybe the unity stood as an insurmountable barrier before you, with your opportunity on the other side. Maybe the unity was and is binding you. No thoughts. No expressions. Blank.

It's like choosing between the life and the air that makes you live that life. You do not want to die but neither can you live! Maybe the unity struck before the opportunity. You lie all alone in the bed thinkin over things you'll say. But that say never came your way. You waited for time to come; the time that ran ahead of you. Like morons you followed. You waited and that wait became eternal. The oppotyunity knocked at the man beside you when you were all geared up for the lovely rendezvous. The man went away with the gift and you were left empty handed. Empty indeed but for the odour of the perfume of the gift and wrapper in rags.

The sweet memories, now sour, make you cynical. You feel like wielding a scimitar and slaying everyone near you, be it friend or foe. Your eyes turn red, the heart burns seeing the man play with the gift. And you stand as a dumb-witted rascal. Every laughter, every word said, every whisper seems to take away a bit of your life.

Suddenly you find that you have no air for life and life to live.

Never have desires. It's the desires that set you on fire. Fire not to reach out for the coveted gift but to burn your own self bit by bit, part by part, slowly very slowly.

Camatose.