Subhajit

I am not able to blog. Blog regularly. This used to be "my space". A space where I used to vent, shout & seek peace. I still want to do that. But I am not able to write. My reading habit too, is on a decline. I was doing so many thing when I was busy, now I am not able to do half of it with double the time in my hand. I am not able to meet my evenings, the ones which used to energise me. I am not able to sprint hundred yards to catch my next destination. Are things slow around? Yes they are, they will be. I was ready for this transition, but was not ready for people becoming unknown entities. May be I thought I am getting into a more real world, only to realise artificially has made its way deep into my old place. People have turned into something that I am not able to comprehend. My nights are stretching into oblivion. Are these my complaints? Am I unhappy? Who defines 'unhappiness' index? And what makes us 'happy' in real terms? I try to look at thing