After-word

Have been postponing my bike ride for long now. Since the thought appeared many many years ago - life has had quite a few turns, some sharp some shallow and grave. I did it - just want to ignore my hand that cut the deck.

This ride it seems will make me happier, this running away, this gas powered exit of sorts is going to make me smile.

Looking forward to this, looking back at some else.

Reading Gatsby has an effect i have heard - never been warned though. Parts of it sting you and make you realise how close you are to doing things you would not have otherwise done. Circumstance and you collude to do such wonderful and such unbelievable things.

Plugging parts of it to sound profound and intelligent - like this one for instance

" ...paid a high price for living too long with a single dream"
or another " no amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man can store up in his ghostly heart..."

it is so strange - even before i read this - whenever i visited the big city of Mumbai - i felt left out, i felt run over - like roadkill - if it were alive to feel.

Each evening after that seemed very important then - like a drill practice, or a well worded reason for better shoes, or a uniform, when i reached back at VT - all of those people just rushed one way or the other - i was there standing waiting for my train back to my "cosy home and town". That feeling of loss, of not getting what i came for, yet going back with what i could get - kept gnawing me.

Since then, many experiences have kind of brought this back to the fore - this feeling of what you want and what you get.

It seems to be self-inflicted.

Something kinda clicks inside you like bones that your heart does not have, Jay Gatsby reaching out to something that he has been longing for. Admire this guy, who held on to his dreams, for so long, held on to hope, held on to some vision he had.

I wonder if i held on to my dreams, i just see this vague direction - i need to be somewhere, but where is this place, or state of mind.

I have given up on so many things - and yet in a way gained so many others - did i want them or did i just pick them up as trinkets or did i just pick them up because i could.

Am i brave to live a dream, and then accept and close my arms around it when I achieve my dream, rather "when my list of enchanted objects diminish by one"