the workings of the past

the day was still dark and he walked silently on the street, watching his back .. his senses all alert as it should be. everything was in order , the suitcase he carried and he remembered the password. tonight and he is done. his head was half buried in the coat and he carried himself in the most unassuming manner. as he crossed the street he checked the restaurant opposite to him and he swung around the corner and turned into the dark alley. now he eased into a more comforting walk, with less awareness about him.
he slowly looked at the buildings around him, he had been here before and slowly opened the door of the third building for which he had the keys. he slowly made his way to the top floor and settled down waiting for the time. suddenly his fingers were trembling , he took out his cigarette and lit it and smoked.. the release of all the strain. it was two weeks before when a call in the middle of the night came in. first he was angry which soon gave way to incredulity at the job that lay ahead of him. he shivered to think of tomorrows headlines , a shock that would shake the world at its roots. he had another drag , he was paid well .. very well in fact to not to take it up. money always had its way around this world. and this might be the last he thought , just enough to go out and finally rest in peace. he had about 3 more hours to go .. and he wanted a quick nap before he made the final move.
soon images filled his mind in his sleep , the jobs previously done with no emotion and no mercy .. all that spoke was the money. this was his job , and there were no two ways about it , did he feel differently ?
his mind drifted to a time much before , thoughts that rested for such a long time that he never dared to go so deep least it disturbed him greatly. but somehow today he relaxed and soon those images filled his mind. as a young kid he was like any other; going to school , playing the game of cricket on the indian streets, his parents who showered him with so much love. then came the fateful day , the day his innocence died forever, the day he decided for survival he needed to fight. seeing his parents shot in front of his eyes and as he ran away from the scene with tears streaming down his life changed forever. from an engineer today he is now the 'silent assasin'. he tore his thoughts away to come into the present , everything around his seemed blurred , a tear .. just a single tear came down his right eye.

point of no return

"who are you , one has no right to analyze" reverberated all around in the room. it boiled down to this .

of ifs and buts

the evening was getting darker , and so were his thoughts as he found his way through the streets. he had no destination in mind , just walking slowly with his hands deep in his pockets. he watched all around him , the people .. the fathers, the mothers, a frind , a lover , a husband , a wife , a politician, son , daughter ....... so many different roles. complex relationships entangled in the process of survival. he was unhurrid, just taking his own time and people hurrying past him , pushing past him in this crowded square. he had time to waste , he wanted to waste time .. while people were turning time to money , turning time to some accomplishment.
the dream of utopia will remain so .. just a dream as such. as with everything in this world he guessed mans obsession with utopia stemed from his sense of dissatisfaction of something in ones own life. but there was a longing for that utopian state where one can just be and not try. he knew that these thoughts led him nowhere in his life , did an add an iota of functionality to his already 'meanigful' life led by the needs of society , family and personal satisfaction as defined by others. how is it personal when the parameters are set by others , are we in the great illusion of oneself .. the illusion of being happy , he illusion of success , the illusion of satisfaction when all these are just determined by others .. standards set by others. but then man does grow in an environment and surrounded by others so is it his fault or is it a convenian excuse to be in the comfort zone. where was he in his entire circle , right in the middle of it.
yes he was questioning , thinking since he coud afford it .. since he had a home to go back to , food to eat and money to spend. what abut the man on the streets .. without a roof on his head and living for just survival. who is to blame for that. the man himself or society or his ancestors or just his destiny ? such people dont have an option , dont have a choice .. for some like them there was no option or choice whether to work or not , whether to make money or not .... cause they just needed to survive. they could care less for his morals , his ideals and dreams of what society should be .. cause reality was different. it hits you on the face so hard that if you hesitate , then god save you.

copyright infringements !

none of the below are mine , my own or original .. every single word is copied and i am ashamed !

rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness... give me truth.

If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, then all possibility of life is destroyed.

What if I were smiling and running into your arms? Would you see then what I see now?

I will miss you too, but you are wrong if you think that the joy of life comes principally from the joy of human relationships. God's place is all around us, it is in everything and in anything we can experience. People just need to change the way they look at things.

how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong... but to feel strong.

For some folks, money is a foreign film without subtitles.

Listen to me, mister. You're my knight in shining armor. Don't you forget it. You're going to get back on that horse, and I'm going to be right behind you, holding on tight, and away we're gonna go, go, go!

I wish I knew how to quit you

Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man mad

"I love you"
"No you dont mean it, you are just pretending"
"thats how much i love you"

This kind of certainty comes but once in a lifetime. How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.

Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two

There are only four questions of value in life.
What is sacred?
Of what is the spirit made of?
What is worth living for?
What is worth dying for?

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place,
suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace,
suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste

I love that you get cold when it is 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle in your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve.

I think careers are a 20th century invention and I don't want one.

Happiness only real when shared.