The trouble, one soon discovers, with a hectic and busy life is that there is never much time. One tends to be, so to say, busy. And that is an especially tiring inertial state for one who has hitherto been only bored before, not to mention utterly exhausted of the inactivity in his life.
One is constantly doing this or doing that. If both of those are done, one must then get started on yesterday's bits of thats and thises. And then the next day's. Life, instead of being the meandering river we imagined it to be in our dull dreams, becomes more in the nature of water rushing down a breaking dam. Its out of control, its destructive, its powerful, and there is a lot of it.
The blogger of this little space on the blogosphere would like to announce his imminent departure by overnight bus to Bangalore, to catch Iron Maiden live on their Matter of Life & Death Tour. Without giving too much into extraneous emotion or excess words (for he is short of time), he would also like to rub it in for all those who would willingly step over 3 cats and a field of mines to be there as well. But alas, cannot.
*does his much rehearsed and Im-there-you're-not-dhinkichiki jig*
He feels he must confess to feeling a couple of tangs of pity for his few readers, for he seems to be constantly chasing them away by drawing them, as if by unbreakable strings, into his wonderfully amazing life of eternal fun and frolic. He would like to let it be known that he does feel a deep-ish empathy for some of those who took the useless efforts of making their jealousy and envy vocal on more than one occasion. He asks them to be patient, and remain faithful. Perhaps one day there time too shall come. They must not lose hope. Its after all, all they have.
This blogger would now like to run and quickly pack his little bag, for time is running short, and the bus will otherwise leave without him. He needs to eat and stuff, pack and stuff, say goodbye to his people (C&B Lovers & Fan Club - Manipal Branch), and board the bus quickish.
Tra la, folks!
Dont cry now. There there. I'll be back, my dear. When the fields are white with daisies, when the sun shines upon us all, when a cool breeze blows across our lands, and when Iron Maiden has moved away and out of Palace Grounds for good, I will return. To you. And you. And you.
Be strong, my people. Bear my absence, the lack of my tender words of caustic cynicism, and my ever-growing Moses complex.