It is the middle of another week and like all slow but steady time bound activities, mid attracts the word ‘crisis’. It has been a rather uneventful day with weather changing from sunny to windy to storm and finally to no internet for a brief period of time. Yes so that was the high (or rather low) point of the day.
Thursday. This day in a six day working professional’s life represents everything that is wrong with the world. There are no TGIFs and
weekend Sunday seems far away. You have practically covered more than half of the week but it feels like a fortnight has passed. And by now most Monday mails have sent themselves a couple of reminders.
In a nutshell? Thursdays might be the new Mondays.
Questions have gotten louder in head. And doubts have crept deep into the heart. While the voice inside may not find answers, I thought perhaps the typewriter outside might.
Five fears on an uneventful Thursday.
Will classifieds solve my life one day?
As a child my favourite pastime used to be to read the Sunday Classifieds in newspapers. Looking up new career names and profile types enthralled me to no end. It was a world in a world for me. A viewpoint of life through searches of other people. Today that same section instills fears.
Will I be on the other side one day? Will these ads mean more than simple eight size font printed letters to me? Will life put me at a juncture where its next turn may be a man with his need typed?
Will simple pleasures of life be weighed with money?
As a child my parents underwent many cycles of financial fluctuations. Many we only heard after it had passed. Perhaps we had never been exposed to the overtures of money. We had almost never known what above average luxuries felt like. Hence any restriction to cash inflow meant no change for us. Today that very idea has made me what I am today. I am always the first one to calculate my balance with the needs at hand and never the one to go overboard.
Yet slowly I have started to feel that for many around me money means buying pleasure. Will a day arrive when I too like them weigh money with happiness? Will that day arrive with its own price tag for me?
Will living with regrets become a way of life after death?
I believe life after death exists. In what form I may never know. But truly the life we live today is nothing but a precursor to what comes in that way beyond. Who doesn’t have regrets per se. What matters perhaps is dying with them. Will things I leave behind undone, be the nemesis for my death and after? If this is true then I am left with the following question.
Will a regret own me more than my achievements ever can?
They say choose your enemies better than friends. And by that logic, life perhaps says the same about regrets. And what would that regret be? Is this uneventful Thursday my doing? Should I not pack it up with more? Are choices I made over the past four days in sync with where I wish to be four years down the line? Is time nothing but a scale looked through different angles. At which point these four days carry forward into four years is perhaps only an uneventful evening of a Thursday?
Will my life like this uneventful Thursday be whitewashed by a more star powered Sunday?
It is a race. It is a sense of being that demands we be the fittest. Why Sunday fits well with me but a Thursday demands space only as writing waste. Will my life through a series of thought-through (or not) decisions, end up as just another day? Will the idea of being someone die with the someone I wanted to be? And if this so happens will I get a chance to change this one uneventful Thursday then? What is the expiry date on my uneventful Thursdays? Or those expiry dates came with pre-dated mistakes.
On a scale of time it all looks like a straight line. But as long as it is a day the curve does get to you.
No don’t go away, what is you fear on an uneventful Thursday?