the early-birds

It’s been awhile
For the words to snow-ball
Them thoughts to hurl-
Against fabric of the mind
To spin a- rhetoric confined!

All of us think about the future. From the second grade drawing classes to New India Insurance – rahe kal per control, education is about foresight. The grammar of life is largely written for the future perfect; present continuous and past perfect continuous form the ‘unknown errors’ of our lives. But as luck would be I wasn’t good at English grammar when they were taking classes back in school. I had the Wren and Martin, the John Mason textbooks… lessons in a language that teach you to speak, write and even think correctly! See! In talking about the future, somehow I turned the page… back!
What is so impressive about the future that woos us all? Why is it that we need to know where the story would take us, where it would end, even? Cant it end in the ‘odds’?
Life is short, why think so much… life is short, be very cautious! Somehow in every school of thought, there is the great dying urge to create the unnecessary! To talk about the time that hasn’t yet been identified yet. I feel overburdened. My cranial matter, shrinking in the summers of 2009 and you want me to crack some su-do-ku and assure myself of a job for the winters! In class ten, you solve pulley and pyramid problems for the IIT’s and in final year commit suicide cause you don’t know again how future tense would treat you after failing in some weird subject. A subject that aint matter to any living being! But just because there is future…to be made… you munch on.
Even getting a job is not good enough! There also the tests-of-tomorrow take away the present clockwork! No time for coffee and the ‘lot’ that happens over it!
Sometime I don’t know why they have interviews to judge people. The assumption is that the best indicator of the future performance is the past performance! The assumption is that the person would be consistent in that ‘performance’! Mind you – the word is consistent! Isn’t it funny that fulcrum of the future rests in the past? Yet all we care for is the future, using the past – UNKNOWINGLY, as the damned passport to wonderlands!
We exhibit amazing predictability! Doctor engineer, marketing finance, Mumbai Bangalore… or as Obama might say Buffalo Bangalore, we all soldier on! Future is the divine sauce served to lubricate (fertilize? Thy brain!) our rat race carts!
What is the purpose of life? Security? Happiness? Pleasure? Fame, glory, high-speed drives, sweet lullaby? What is the eye of this storm?
Some do not live for a purpose, their actions don’t have a prefix, their behaviors don’t have patterns, and maybe they are fooled by randomness. That would be an entire subject of ‘chaos theory’ but my point here is, these people make a lot of assumptions!
Question the assumptions you have made in life and the purpose would emerge. Food, water, the roof over-above, the comforts, relations, emotions… everything is quantifiable and is being the momentum behind life. In the comfort zone, we just fail to admit and admire the point-of-balance, for our lives…
Sometimes the purpose lies in the future, sometimes maybe future is the purpose! In the every shifting scales of time, we are, hence, always trying to be the early-bird! And when everyone wakes up to be the early-bird, maybe the worm still has a chance to live!
There are many aspects of life that I haven’t been able to define and measure… but I can’t see into the future, there is so much to look around right here, right now. I can be true to just this perimeter of my life.
Future is eventual. Future is gonna hit the theatres soon, I mean, hell! Theatrics of life. Some would gross more, some would be wash outs and some would remain the dark knights (amen to KKR ‘n SRK!), but I can only promise what I have. I can only stand by my present and assure as much.
So every time I look at the clock, blurring the tenses of with every periodic move, I look back to preserve the past. I look back to remember the events, the people and emotions I carry, I call my own. For the ‘Buffalo Soldiers’ it might appear baggage, but its just because they are too poor and thin to hold on. Too fast too even realize that, eventually, time ‘flies’… away! And it’s no race at all.