The player, the bully

I am becoming too predictable for my own good. It has become imperative that I write every time I fly. It's mostly because my mind runs at a 100 miles an hour when I am alone. It's really hard to keep it thinking one thought. There's just so much to assimilate, so much of the present to record, so much of the past to rewind and play, so much to erase to ring in the new.

Why do we mortals become philosophers when we are flying, at the beach or on vacation? Anything and everything seems possible and our agenda includes conquering nothing lesser than the world itself. And the same locations bring sadness perpetuated through nostalgia, the lost and the freed. It's almost like we fill our lives with so much just so that we aren't surrounded by silence and complain when there is no peace and quiet. We set ourselves up for something that is either painful or irksome at the very least.

Among all the relationships I share with the people around me, extremely precious are the ones that make me think. Such people are so enriching, they bring so much to my life and what I can give back is but minimal. These folks, just by being themselves, input so much content into the eclectic stuff I put out in these blogs.

One such thought process began late last night and has been messing with my head since then. Why is it that some of us get beaten up constantly? It's almost like high school never ended and life ended up being the bully. Yes, we all taught ourselves to survive and tackle the bully, for lack of any other option to react otherwise. But it's almost like some of us get no redemption. Well, let me not sound that extreme. Some of us get no redemption in certain aspects of our life.

In my opinion, each one of us has a partial win in life. Some know what they want and fight the bully, knowing all too well that it is a negotiated out-of-court settlement. Others don't even realize what's missing till it's too late. At that point, they make their peace with life and learn to live with and get stuck with an out-of-court settlement on the bully's terms. Frustrated are both these sets of people, but at least the former probably end up with sort of an upper hand.

The point I am trying to make? By now, you must have realized that I ask more questions than answer any with reasonable conviction. What do I know about solving life's convoluted puzzle? I am but a mere player who happens to think that at the very least, I must keep asking questions, keep jumping contexts (this entry just goes to prove that!), keep the bully challenged and on his toes enough to warrant a break from messing with me.