When you look back in time life feels like a happy young toddler with naked feet, dressed in a sleeveless tee and short pajamas, a stick in one hand and a punctured bicycle tyre in the other trying to use one to balance the other on its roller-coaster ride. The carefree, careful, caring, busy, lost, adventurous, wanting and aiming young lad out to discover an undiscovered lane in the oft traversed terrains of human journey – he sums it up all. This character visits my pensive moods and solitude hours very often. He has all the ingredients of a character that is typically human.
He is so much in love with himself. To him the world is his little playfield that begins and ends at the horizons that he can not just see but also touch and reach. The grass beyond is for him some other globe that extraterrestrials inhabit. He has a small little world around him that is completely his own and he is completely in love with it. This little world
he guards from all else, keeps it “mine” and steps out of it with caution, pleasure and ambition only to return back when he gets his due. Just like him we love our homes our jobs our children and all that we have carefully chosen to qualify the tagline “mine”. All that lies beyond belongs to books, newspapers and televisions – to be heard discussed and forgotten. It’s only our ambition that takes us out of it.
But gradually playfields shift, definitions alter. In the ever changing boundaries of “my world” soon we have new pastures. The dream of the verdure yet unseen enchants satiety and we move on. Are the fields really greener? I have not yet known only time will say, but yes my playfield for sure has metamorphosed and my lure has brought me here.