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Sunday, March 05, 2006

Analyze this

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a boy called Harry. Harry was a dreamer, lost in reverie about one thing or the other. With God in his heart, Harry embarked upon a journey to find the philosopher's stone that will turn his dreams into reality. On the way, he saw a few sirens. He walked upto them and carved his heart out of his bosom and presented it to them. But to no avail. He was snobbed away and Harry became bitter and bitter. In his anguish, he let out a howl steeped in yearning and pining. And then something happened. The desert suddenly changed into a land of purple flowers. Harry looked around and from yonder, he saw an angel walking towards him. Harry was surprised. He wondered if this was another siren. She came close and Harry was mesmerized. Harry could not believe what was happening to him. Unknown to him, years of struggle and solitude had erected walls around his soul. The endothelium of his heart had undergone metaplasia to a thick layer of squamous cells, all in an effort to lessen the hurt that he had become so used to. And now, when she was right there, he was bemused.

He saw her dance under flickering lights. Sheer magic, he quipped to himself. Her sinewy movements were like the motion of a poet's pen on paper composing poetry.

He held her hand. He whispered words into her ears. She squeezed his hand in silent acknowledgement but never said anything back. Trivial gestures that would probably escape the eye but which were drilling holes into the cuticle around his heart. Wild emotions raged through his heart much like the charioteers of Rome. His heart was under assault from both within and outside. He struggled to keep it all hidden away lest he should appear too vulnerable. All futile attempts because he is such a miserable actor.

She quizzed him:"Why are you so quiet today?". To which he had no good answer for he had the vaguest idea himself. But his situation was kind of like the mountain climber who had scaled a 14,000 feet peak. He wants to scream in joy yet the low oxygen concentration in the thin mountain air prevents him from expanding his lungs. Turmoil within but no way to vent it out. He tries to let it all out but he just can't. Helplessness at its glorious best.

Harry worries about his future. He had been a perfect loner. Will he be a perfect partner as well?. Carpe diem, he tells himself. "Live in the present, boy" and "For God's sake, stop thinking", he keeps telling himself. He promises to try to do it. All he knows is that God is with him and there is nothing else he shall want.

For a man with 27 years under his belt, I am afraid I just have too much growing up to do. I wish Life were simpler.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh! Harry,
Don't we all wish for life to be simple? It is not! and so what you do make best of what you have. Don't worry you will be just fine. Enjoy life! You are just thinking too much. You are only 27 years old. Here I have friends (all women- professional and beautiful) about 30 years old. So what we should do- sit here throw pity party for ourselves? No! We are not going to do that-
So cheer up. You are a guy and much younger than all us. If we look at probability chances- you have better chances of finding a wife than we do have of finding a husband.

3:37 PM, March 05, 2006  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


5:21 PM, March 05, 2006  
Anonymous Puneet2 said...

Dating isn't easy, Harry. Nor is getting to know someone as a potential spouse. You have to confront your own weaknesses as well as theirs -- it's the game playing and painful cost of intimacy... which of course has its rewards when it finally happens... Good luck, as always.

7:42 PM, March 05, 2006  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


10:20 PM, March 06, 2006  

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