Really.. The Drift..

Well.. I didn't quite get to the drift in the previous post. I started with the talks about Ranchi to get a starting point from where I would talk wbout what I had in mind initially. Clearly I drifted. The fond memories came back to me and I really had a good time reminiscing those days while writing it down.

Back to the topic.. During one of those aforementioned picnics, a dark, long, rough-surfaced object was spotted floating in water. Much to my disappointment, it was not a fierce crocodile. It was an innocuous floating old log: driftwood. It was a hollow trunk, which was meandering lazily along the stream. The surface was covered with soft moss could have easily been mistaken for a wet carpet. Though one touch of its surface immediately evoked a sound of euuu/yuck from the innards. We played with it for a bit and then forgot about it. Later, while sitting on the scattered rounded rocks, eating, we noticed that it had floated a long way away along the stream.

Why I talk about driftwood? Over some time I have started to liken myself to it. The bliss of drifting is great. Just throw your legs up, paddle your hands gently, and hear the water lapping against your ears. It’s very much that. It is sitting in the midst of everything and absorbing the sights and sounds. It is all about going with the flow. I have done that through school and college landed myself a software job, like almost all others I know.

Why I talk about driftwood? It drifts no more. I have decided to take on the currents. Maybe, out of utter boredom of just drifting about. Remember the talk about all the moss on the wood and the synonymous yuck. Its time to shed the shoddy garb, and let the mettle shine through. Are these words too strong? I don’t care; I feel strongly about this. It’s an altogether different kind of high you get when you put your heart and soul into something. Aye there’s the rub!!

Come again.. Pardon.. Sorry, what was that again.. Am I hearing things.. maybe I am too drunk.. You spoke of a high; are we in for yet another binge… That’s the miniature me, dressed in a white robe, who pops up in a little puff every time I have such thoughts. He mocks me. The other miniature me, red-skinned, with little horns and a swishing pointy tail, just sits there with a smug look. He knows that the little angel just gets little-er by the day. He knows that the angel has given up all hope and instead of egging me on; he has decided to make fun of me. If you can’t beat them, join them!!

Mr. Pesky Little Devil would you please take a hike. Its time I had a chat with Mr. Innocent Little Angel. Its time to get out of the laid back lifestyle where days just grow into months and they in turn amass to form years and just go by without having any effect. Time to bring in the days when every minute counts and every day is accounted for. Time to prepare for CAT. Watch this space, for this will be my CAT-alogue: A back breaking attempt to study.

PS: The prep has already begun. Will talk about the past, present and the future, or the lack of it??