Quarterly Life Audit

"As the oak gets older its origin reminiscences, that majestic oak was once a nut that stood his ground"

Journey begun two and half decades ago seem much longer than it actually was. Life begins to lack luster, like the rusting edgeless knife, It is quarter life crisis! while I am gradually stepping from first quarter to the second. There was lot to look back and learn from, Looking back, It anin't far from where it started. I am thinking aloud, rather forced to do so. Rarely I believed in planning my life, as always I dared as it came. I've steered my living so far my way. It has sped at different paces (Top gears at times!). I am among ones who believe that "brakes are for cowards ". Fortunately, I had no chance to step on them until now.

Above thoughts meandered within self, while weekend evening sun was crawling through the tangent bars of the only window in my 10 X 9 ft bedroom. Fading red and purple hues of setting sunlight made innumerable murals on fresh white sheets of my bed. My eyes quirkily locked onto the evening art, my river like tear pockets seem ed abundantly blessed. Without any emotional stress, suffering or physical pain salty lakes began flooding . Sudden annoying buzz distracts my muse. A tiny bee honey drunk! He was bumping into plastic evening primrose placed in vase that was on the wall mantel. I watched him closely while he buzzed around the room. His hopeless bee flight to enter the fake flowers carpel's amused me. Probably he is blind, must have lost his sense of smell as well. He didn't discern quintessence of natural beauty over the bright yellow feign. Unregretful, his quest continues. Wee little bee waged his relentless war to un-flower suncups to feast on the non-existent honey, never did he scorn those war bruises. I couldn't help but see myself embodied in him. Mine was none less flight than his.

What is left of me now is just bitter contriteness. Dreams to grow old with that someone special was mine too. Nevertheless, that was just a dream, before destiny chose that special one for me. I yearned to inquest on my own, I was no saint who waited for a chance, I believed in creating my own. Madness invoked to be self reliant, independent and free led to desire without reason. One of those morphed red evening was slipping into wicked darkness, yet another lecherous moment of my young life, a demonic desire, ceaseless fleshly prodding which needed to be gratified. I was just like that un-slaked bee. Unmistaken coitus occurrence with my Aphrodite doused my insatiable urge that sacrilegious moment; this instance thrust me closer to the grim reaper. Lest did my contagion knew that she had bestow me deepseated malady (I was chosen by destiny to be poisoned).

I became aware of this canker only when I was closer to bid adieu to fulfilled quarter of my life.while I'm doing a quarter life audit, that's when I realized that scourge-less quarter of life was largely spent being a child, a teenager, an adult growing, learning, earning, sharing, caring, traveling, winning and losing etc very mundane. However, most of what I made out of it was just questioning, wondering, dreaming and scheming about how ideal my life would've been. I seldom planned my life. Cause plans were made to execute. My dreams were mere fantasies without execution. In these last few days, all I wanted to do was to enumerate life so far, take stocks. (Not in a clichéd mythical format) It was not to measure my vices and virtues. It was not to question the worth of my existence on this blue planet over a quarter. Without regret, it was a fresh perspective to residue of life . - He who dared life in its eye, as long as he lasted; { These were the last few words from "K" while AIDS blighted him at the Age of 28!}