The Choice that ever was.....

Yesterday I missed. Better not make a habit out of it.

The day started as usually, albeit a little chore sprang up out of nowhere. It consumed nothing more than 20 minutes but landed me pre-maturely in front of my office in face of a locked door. I have seen this spectacle at least five times now, and I do not really look forward to it.

How much human soul is battleground for inner struggles. I have learned that most of our work area is constructed with in benign boundaries of society and civilization. To learn is not essentially to follow. The Colosseum of life, is it? Men fighting like gladiators while spectators hoot or clap waiting somewhere with a hidden inevitable perception that they have their own armours to follow. Few who would remain standing, few who be raised to dust. But is is not a time to wait and marvel. It is the time to move and follow. It has been taught the only way to exist.

But sometimes there is a greater battle going on inside the flesh and sweat. Unavoidable, sustained, relentless. Where every spectator is masked but hides the same face. There is only one gladiator. How man times we rise and fall in front of our own eyes. How many times the pain is same even when we are the sole witness of the victim, that is us. How important it is? Can its philosophical implication lifted above the great battle of existence? Or is it not the fundamental battle for existence?

A lonely man is a huge battlefield. Everyone is a hero in his own right. He may not have bled or sweat in the field but has fought even bigger battles to stay away from the fields. We are all eternal fighters. We need not be heroes for the others of our kind. We need to be heroes for ourselves. Staunch your knees and stand to face the gales.
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There are many thoughts that go through my mind like an arrow slithers through linen. They are quick, they pass by. There are things to be done. More important than anything faced before. Then comes the harrowing thought that this may not pass. The past chases me. It will all come to a similar end. To have the choice on the way we could die, does not make things easier. But it may come as a boon to someone who is being slaughtered, and gets a choice of heart attack. It makes things easier to accept. Likewise, choices in life does not alter our fate, they just make things little more acceptable. It is how we choose to live life; live life we have to. It is to make us believe that it was us who chose that path so whatever befalls. While fate behaves like an overgrown lion, not letting us know that he had ways to make us tread the same path if ever we had chosen otherwise. We all will still thinking the same- our decision.

This is not discouraging. To face our fate should not be discouraging. Its like a man meets his Lord. Its a pilgrimage leading to the final showdown. And it about the flowers we plucked on the way together.
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I am standing before a giant abandoned mausoleum.Desecrated. We have condemned our masters. We have constructed our own edifices. We have made ourselves what we started out with. We ended up in this purgatory. We achieved.

It is time to stand front against our worst fears. Because it will come silently and swiftly. But it will come. We cannot cheat our destiny.