World at odds (WAO)

I yesterday proclaimed, I cannot focus for long time. I have to regret this has been a weakness. I am not focused, has to do loads of things and end up doing nothing. I have been good in much stuff but have not mastered any one of them. I will stick to this blog, till technology come up with something more radical.

I was thinking how I will be writing the Story of Dusht. It will be asynchronous in nature. It will be based on chapters that may or may not have relation to the story.

Chapter I Melancholy Jack

It begins with the tragedy of Colossal.

I first met, Melancholy Jack, 8 years ago in a bar. He looked depressed and out of sorts. Only thing I have known about him was that, he was the best young computer nerd in the college. I was with my friends when Jack asked to join him. We were freshman and he was sophomore. How can we decline free drinks, but it was not easy, to gulp drinks at that table. Those were soaked in Jacks‘s tears. He was known as king of tragedy. I did not understand, what does it implied. Puma sitting left to me told, more the wit you have, more sensitive you get to the surroundings, this makes you react and even weep. Who cared at that moment, I was carving for more of Old monk. By grace of almighty, I stood those 3 rounds of utter tragedy, when all my friends required slipping to washroom. I had the refinement to accompany jack in his misery. I asked him “who are the gals that left him, which makes him cry?” I always suspected Engineering colleges have few gals of interest and added attention to give your sorrows. Jack was not crying for gal or grades but he told me it is in his nature to enjoy the sadness of the moment. I was too drunk to understand what he said. I showed courtesy for the next few rounds of drink, till we too get broke. I assume at moment of time, it was the most engaging and life changing discussion with a man of wit and humor that was so out of time and age. He told me he feel sad for everything that should have been right, if we all have cared. He feel sad, if the tree he had seen falls, he feel sad, if the river he has swam is tamed, he feel sad if the music he hears, is inspired ( cheated from others). Even I agreed to the last point. I asked him, do you like to be high? Nope, but yes, he felt this help him to be sad about the state of affairs. I too asked him “Why he is the best programmer in his batch, when he does not even care for study?” He said it was a myth created for him sleeping for the first half of college that he spends all night writing those magical scripts. He was even sad about the state of education, but then who is not is sad for education.

We called off that day, being carried away by our batch mates to our hostel, this resulted in more get to gathers, over a period of 3 years, where he was as sad he as ever as the last weekend and I was as obedient to understand, is that how things are bad around us. He got placed and left the campus, we kept in touch over mails for a year and so, until one day, I too get observed in the life of after years.

I meet him, 3 days ago in a city Pub by chance, he still has not changes, he was crying like old that was enough for me to recognize, it can be none other than Jack. Through my social network I had come to know, lately he working with some big MNC, who made some computer Chips, I think it was called Intel. He sticking to that place must be a sad place of epic proportions. I said Hello to Jack, and to my amusement he did not recognized me. He was deep into his sorrow. That is the strangest introduction I used, but that’s what I said “remembered me, I cried a bit with you, when he blew up a server up in college days.” I cried for him thinking he must be crying for getting into trouble, he was crying for affecting work of many more students. He had a grim smile on his face and stood up to give me that brotherly hug. I joined him and I was sure, now tears will follow in abundance. I asked him, do he feel as sad as ever, or has changed? He took out a note out of his pocket and gives it to me. I read it and was surprised; he must be crazy if he is feeling sad about this? He was asked to move to his Company’s HQ in US. Jack are you nuts, people will do anything to get such as opportunity. But guess, it was Jack, he need to be sad; he can’t survive without his melancholy thoughts.

He told me, he changed once in life when he has fallen in love with Kira, after graduating out. He forgot what sorrow was; he enjoyed the moments of life and looked forward to change this world by smiling at it. Then one day, someone took everything away from him. Kira moved to US and he was left alone again. Jack worked hard to be with her again and today he got his letter to fly to US. Jack my friend, sorrow is not the emotion of hour, you should be crying in happiness.

Jack told me, he now does not want to go. I was not getting his state of mind, but it can be affect of few extra ml of alcohol in your body. I asked like a religious friend “why Jack, do not you like to be happy and cheerful with someone for rest of your life?” Yes I want to be, but that is not possible, they have terminated Kira forever. I think that was enough for me to understand what has happened with my poor friend. I felt sorry for him; you first took a man love and then terminating it. It was really an hour of sorrow.

We had few more drinks, that evening and I tried best to cheer him as this sorrow of his was not something he has to live or die for. Kira had been in life of quiet a few people (my guess), few must have felt sad like him and few must have felt relieved. I loaded him off on a car, when I felt sorrow in my heart as well. How will be an artist feel, if the statue he carved for years is demolished in front of his eye. It was his project, he nurture it like his love, start to live a life to lose it all over again.

This is work of fiction and Chapter II will be dedicated to Fighter Ola ( He lived like a king, he died like an emperor).

“ Nothing saddens me more than, the poor state of mind”…..Jack

Labels: Alcohol, Blanks, Generic/vyom, humour, Life, Manthan