The following is an excerpt from my personal diary, 3rd January, 2012. How my daily life inspires me even though it seems to repeat itself, and how I observe daily things, even the minute, small
details. Read on...
It's the 3rd of January, 2013. Serampore. It's 3 PM, according to the watch. The whole city has been under cloud cover till now. The daylight didn't even get a chance to peep from the clouds.
Everything is still, everything is fine and normal. Except that the cats are mewing (to add to your surprise, we've added it as a part of our daily lives), our next-door neighbour of 7 years
desperately trying to fly a kite in this windy and cloudy day, and a helicopter flying at such a low altitude- that it's noise will make you feel irritated.
I walk out of my room and head straight to my terrace. I'm all alone in the terrace. Whenever I am in the terrace I feel peace pervade into my soul. I yawn.
As I continue to stare at the open, vast sky, blank-faced, I observe a group of birds circling round over an apartment- as if they have no work to do, flying and roaming around carelessly, with no
attempts to know about what was going on in their surroundings. They are free, after all. I am perhaps getting too anxious. Maybe I am too obsessed with the group of birds. I quit thinking about
the group of birds and their actions.
I try to spend this afternoon time usefully. As I turn my face to the watch, I notice it ticked for 15 more minutes. It's 3:15 PM now, and I wasted a valuable 15 minutes of my life, gazing at the
sky. I yawn again. I have absolutely no work today, so I am carefree.....
I decide to get back to my room. I walk down the stairs, switch on the television, and sit down comfortably in a chair equipped with a cushion. I take the remote to operate the television, in my
hands and open a news channel. Nothing interesting, just the same piece of small, unworthy news that makes it way to the news just because the journalists did not have any interesting news to
provide, or maybe too tired to report a big incident, whatever. Bored, I switch off the TV. I start my computer, connect to the internet, listen to a few Beatles song and check for new email.
9 unread emails. 7 of them from Facebook while the second last from Wikia alerting me of weekly changes and the last from a stranger, requesting me for permission if he could copy one of the
articles from my blog for his own personal use, subject to the condition that he provides me an attribution and links to IIS India. I reply in affirmative to the last email and shut down my
It is now that I remember that today there was the much awaited India-Pakistan ODI match, and that my grandpa had invited me for a cup of coffee with him, while we two had to sit down and comment
on the technical side of the match. I am already late. It's 4:00 PM now. This is how I spend my time every afternoon-jotting down my feelings and describing my emotions in my diary. Writing gives
Anyways, I'm late, as I said. With this last sentence, I close my diary with a thud and I race down to my grandpa. After all, he needs me.
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