Fighting rigor mortis

So it starts... or so it ends? One of the two. It's 1:20 a.m. and I am still working. Why? It is the only way I have to keep my head occupied. Everybody seems to have had it upto here with my crying. I have been asked when I am going to go back to being happy.

I think I am going to flip the happiness switch on and try to stop being a fanatic from now on. There is enough work to last many days, and so I'll be suitably overworked. I kind of like the sleepy stupor in which I am writing this post. It gives me a feeling of being under the influence of an aphrodisiac (which goes on to show my experience with aphrodisiacs of any kind).

I've been very slow today. Everything seems to have become sticky, coated with a gooey syrup of incomprehensibility. For example, I cannot understand why anyone would go to the other corner of the world to start a life, when everything one likes is right here. I cannot understand why does the most stupid of all questions seem the most pertinent - How am I concerned with all this? I know I should not meddle in such affairs. I must not meddle. It only adds to the general state of confusion already prevalent around me.

Something bittersweet happened on Sunday. My friend of five years, S, left for his new job. Dressed in his quintessential chappals and torn jeans, with dense cigarette smoke hiding his demure countenance, S has a heart of gold. He's the only person I know who has more trouble saying `no' to anyone, than me. I've known S, worked with him day in and day out, even scolded him at times in my assumed states of grandeur (even though he's a year or two elder to me). I have seen him get married, and survive the ordeal. I can personally vouch for a brilliant mind behind his droopy eyes, and an excellent taste for all varieties of cooked food (I've never caught him eating anything raw, though I cannot be certain). All through Thursday, Friday and Saturday I worked with him to help finish his thesis. Finally when he was getting on to the auto, I could not help but hug him. I guess S is not very used to other men hugging him, and hence I'll pardon his quite visible surprise. Now that he is gone, I am once again reminded of the need to move on. Something tells me the time is quite close at hand.

Ah, but I must thank somebody before I conclude this post. Thank you, for sharing a piece of the sun with me. It felt so warm. I can at least try to go back to being happy now.

Say Cheese!