Getting back to the good old habits is very easy to do so. The mind and the body tend to return to its usual rhythm when they have detected a change in its patterns. A change no matter how beneficial or healthy if found unsuitable by the body is faced with an enormous resistance. It takes a really resolute and determined mind to undermine the resistance of the body. It’s a long fight till the change becomes a habit.
He had been trying to make the changes into a habit for the past few months now. The only problem being the fact that there wasn’t a constant pace in which his life was moving. The non-uniform media life was followed by a relaxed and comfortable long break succeeded by an unstable phase of finding a job and then adjusting to a new way of professional life. Finally, when the healthy rhythm started to set in, his old ‘news’ life greeted him in a reincarnated form.
Walking back home at 3am in the morning, he met some strange stares from the policemen at the check post, stranger glances from two-three people taking a stroll on the street and initial wild barks from dogs which later turned into slow howling as they approached him from behind with their tails wagging generously. As he reached his home, he couldn’t help smile at the way things had turned out to be. He had longed for a regular and routine life. Not the 9-5 job but at least some sense of working hours. Although it was one of the rare days or nights, he felt a sense of déjà-vu in the way things were beginning to take shape. Every job is at the end of the day just the same. It is work and nothing else. Doesn’t matter if the whens and hows feel unjustified sometimes, the fact of the matter is work needs to be done. That’s it. As plainly and bluntly put. Time had always been a constraint with him and even now it was a luxury he had to work hard for. The irony is, there is not enough time when his heart is set on something, but there’s ample to waste when nothing is all he has for company.
Once he got back home, he got fresh and after having something to eat called it a night. Finally some rest. He had been frustrated almost the whole day in office. The inability to crack any ideas or come up with some concepts had bothered him since morning. And staying awake till late the night before didn’t seem to help with his failure to launch into brilliant arrays of ideas and concepts. His mind was as barren as it ever was.
As office hours came to an end, it was time for goodbyes and goodnights. But the work had just started for him. The lights at the empty cubicles had been switched off. Only two cabins were still well lit and well populated. It was at times like this when he felt if work can at all justify for the lost life, the lost moments and the lost time. A few good moments with loved ones, sharing a good laugh or two, catching up with old friends and teasing each other, after all life is really about the people in one’s life more than anything else.
The work got going at a very slow pace. The feeling in him was similar to the one who was in a hurry but he was driving behind someone enjoying the slow drive with all the time in the world, that too in a narrow lane. Hours piled up like some old archived files which needed to be sorted and a feeling of another weekend gone to waste sunk in within him. But he was adamant he wasn’t going to let it control his life. So, he got along with his work and did his best. Somehow the best wasn’t enough on this particular night. His efforts turned futile one by one and he could slowly see his spirit was falling to pieces.
Lying on his bed, everything felt at peace once again. But the broken pieces take time to come together and mend. And the scars… they lay hidden or visible… reminders of a time he may well forget to think about, but would leave him feeling broken all over again.
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