In Pursuit of Love

Things Happen For A Reason FUTURE Another phone call, another wish. It became a routine for Priyam. Her phone rang incessantly, not allowing her to concentrate on the project she needed to finish. Smiling and saying thank you to everyone, she sighed after each call, I am sure he forgot, she thought . Then her phone fell silent for few moments. “Thank God,” she said out loud as she wore her stylish black rimmed glasses and started typing on her laptop. Only few minutes had passed as her phone rang again. She looked at the screen, and a sweet smile came over her face.

I don’t know if I have any kind of talent. Half the time, I can’t even tell the difference in what I have written. Maybe it is sublime or maybe it is a cat turd. Whichever may be the case I just enjoy the space I have been give where I share my stories I might as well be the one of those millions of mediocre guys who had a dream. Then I met her.

What do I really want in life? This was a question that I was asked few years back, and at that time I did not have an answer. If not all, most of us go through life without a clue of what we want. We follow the routine: School-College-Job-Marriage-Kids-Retirement. We don’t even question this routine, just like millions others, we follow this system moving thorough life aimlessly. I am not going to tell you a chestnut like you should live your life to the fullest, or seize every moment. However, if one does not have a path, he may find himself alone when he is surrounded by billions. 

The time after my laptop got stolen from my house, which had the only copy of my novel, and yes I am that stupid not to have a backup elsewhere, I was walking or wandering, low on confidence. At that particular time, I was struggling to crawl out of the clutches of the infamous three ‘S’s’ self-pity, self-loathing, and self-condemnatory. They had their claws so deep into my skin that when I bleed, I also started to lose the joy which I got from putting together a story on a blank page. Even in my desperate state, I stared at the blank page for hours, hoping that I would be able to put together few sentences, but that didn’t happen. Finally, I had to give up and return to the world where fictional characters were replaced by real people. Instead of me that were creating problems for these fictional characters to overcome, I was dealing with real people who had a lot of real problems. As I got use to this routine, I began to realise, that it has been two months, and I haven’t writ...