In about another 137...hours the greatest two years of my life will come to an end...the stage is set...its time to pass out and move on...the world is beckoning...the future is ..hazy...the chaos in on the rise...the uncertainty is killing silently...the stars look distant...the sound of the waves sound distant...but the future beyond them now seems to be filled with the clangour of chaotic voices...pulling me in different direction....god will it ever end...will i be ever be free...again..I wish I could be an captain Jack Sparrow...who can...set sail...across the world's seas...free as a bird...without a care in the world or Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Eneterprise travelling through the uncertainity of space....some how this poem by Rabindranath Tagore is popping up....
" Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning.
I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!"
Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.
I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.
With whatever you find you create your glad games, I spend both my time and my strength over things I never can obtain.
In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game."
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