Throughout the day, I have been going through periodic waves of emotions and feelings. At times I am active and thinking rationally and practically, looking forward to the challenge that has been presented to me. I am a guy who loves challenges. I want to be tested day in and day out. I don't want to go through the same old monotonous shit every day. It just makes me hate whatever I am doing. Until there is some sort of excitement, I don’t have to worry about time passing by. I want to be in a fluidic state, embracing zen whenever I am immersed in something. To have such a state daily is not impossible. You need to be doing that which evokes and engages. It will push you into the zen state, where time flies by. Here you will get the feeling of being one with time.

The zen I am talking about has come to me whenever I do something creative. I have had deep sessions whenever I sketch. Recently whenever I try to sit and try to learn the fundamentals of music and how it is made, I see myself drifting into that space. Writing does the same too. It is a totally different zen because I do write on a daily basis. The other ones would happen once in a blue moon and so retains their novelty. It appears to be fresh and vibrant every time I get into it. When it comes to writing, I know I am getting the flow. This happens when my words are typed out as they sound in my head. I would be saying the words loudly in my head and getting them down at that instant. Some paragraphs flow with such ease I forget to end them. They just keep on coming. Later when I sit and read it will I realize the need for a break in it.

Everyday zen is different from occasional zen. Although the latter seems exciting and leaves you in a profoundly blissful state, I am happy to have the former lesser one. It doesn’t make me go all gaga and pumped up. I have gotten used to it so much that it seems like an everyday thing. But it does not fall into the monotonous category because there are days when I struggle. Everyday zen is also hard to find. It might sound as I if I get it effortlessly, but that’s not the case. Somedays the words don't form inside my head. I sit and try to put out whatever comes up. Sometimes this triggers the flow and they rush out, like a clogged drain getting free. Sometimes they don't. They remain clogged. I need to squeeze out whatever I have and make something to work with. If I give up, it will only pile up. I need to make sure I never get into a space where it becomes difficult to catch up. Piled-up plates in a clogged drain are a disaster. Clear them up as and when they come cause sometimes they can be the reason for the block.

So I don't seek it. I do what is necessary on my part to make sure I get down on whatever I can daily. The blank page does scare me at times. Yet, I get to do my work, one step at a time. That is how I go about my writing. It will be put on a hiatus for now, but that's okay. I can always write something or the other, like filling up the journal with a summary of the day. Or random thoughts. I really don't know if I will get the time for it. It requires a certain state of mind which is quite difficult to achieve under these circumstances.

I keep up my walk as these thoughts come into my head. I see another by-lane on the left. I haven't explored it. I have explored a couple of them with her on our evening walks. This lane had few houses in it, so the lane would finish off soon. We took the ones that stretched for some distance. One of them went all around to join another lane. Exploring that one felt fruitful. I light up the lane with my torch. It remains silent and motionless. I turn it off and walk ahead.

I pick up a stone from the edge of the road and throw it as far as I can toward the road ahead. It hits it with a familiar sound and bounces off, followed by the diminishing sound of coming to rest. The thrill with which I had gotten out seems to be waning. I really don't know what to expect from this encounter in this dark outing. I am surely not going to come across a fire-breathing monster flying through the air that is hell-bent on making me his dinner. Nor am I going to be haunted by evil spirits lurking in the darkness, waiting to feed on my thoughts and drain me of them. I got out of the house on a whim. I was feeling bored. Now, being able to make out the familiar stretch in front of me, I feel there isn’t anything else to be done here. There is no light anywhere. Nor is any motion to be detected. I wonder where the other dogs went to. They should have been lurking around somewhere here. I continue walking.

There is a small shop on the left side of the road in front of me. It is a very tiny shop. It is made up of makeshift materials. I have seen an old man sitting here. He has very few things to sell. I have seen people smoking cigarettes and bidis near its vicinity. Some ropes are tied onto the front. I suppose they are up for sale. Usually, shops like this in the countryside sell lemon juice or some kind of a drink to freshen up weary passers-by. I haven’t seen anyone drinking anything from here. I reach its front. It is closed. I light my torch on it. The shopkeeper has used wooden planks to seal it shut. That was the only way possible since it is not a concrete structure. I wonder what business he gets through his shop. More than that, I wonder why he is still running it. Has he never been able to make enough to upgrade it and grow along?

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I have come across people from my grandfathers' generation who have never changed with time. They are mostly businessmen who still go about their establishment as it was before. There are hardly any changes to it. They have made enough money to upgrade themselves and grow into a bigger and better establishment. Yet they refrain from it. They have educated their children and sent them abroad for studies. They aren’t coming back nor can they convince them to upgrade it or change it to match their status in society.

I feel they do it not for the sake of business or making more money. They do it because that is what they have been doing for the past thirty-odd years. They have found peace in it, a kind of everlasting zen that they are not willing to trade at any cost. They are happy and contended with what they have. They have stopped running the rat race. They were a part of it at one point in time when they started their business. Along the way, they found their rhythm and company. Soon race didn’t matter to them. What mattered was the company and the joy it brought daily. Arent we all looking for the same thing? A sense of belonging amidst the good company of near and dear ones? Once we get it, can we be content?

It shouldn’t be equated to a lack of ambition. Everyone should be ambitious. One should strive to achieve his maximum potential, push boundaries and explore new frontiers. Being content is when you realize that the ultimate destination of your ambition was to attain a life where you are happy and at peace daily. Contentment is when you can look back at your life and have no regrets. You are happy with the decisions you took. They have contributed to making the big picture that is in front of you now. In retrospect, everything was happening for a reason which you couldn’t fathom at that moment. It is like looking at the valley below from a cliff. You won't be able to appreciate its beauty from the ground level.

I feel like going for a run. I feel like running as fast as I can, away from this problem. I want to run away to Anna at a speed that will take me to wherever she is. I want to run away to my hometown to check on my parents and run away to all the possible places on this planet to see if the people that matter to me are alive. I want to run back in time, like Flash, to a time when things were normal and keep on running back and back until I have lived my life to the full with all the people that matter to me.

Sadly I can't. I am no Flash or Superman or Doctor Who. I can't go back in time. I can't relive my life. I can't reverse it. I can't do anything about it. I can only live it as it comes, minute by minute.

Feeling bored, I light my torch on the houses lined up on my left side. Suddenly something shines on the first floor of the house up ahead. I dash towards it with my torch pointing at it. As I approach it the shining becomes smaller but increases in number. When I reach the front gate, I get a clear picture of the object. They are the shiny decoration on a Christmas tree. A small smile appears on my face.

Christmas is one festival that is all about enjoying and making merry. It is celebrated widely in the state with much pomp and passion. Everyone joins in to cut cakes, drink wines, and have a sumptuous feast. For the kids, this one week leading up to the new year marks their seasonal holidays. It is a time without any worries, a time for get-togethers of all sorts.

My Christmas is mostly in my hometown, with my uncles, aunts, and cousins. Dad takes the initiative almost all the time. He also manages to stock up on some good booze that comes out only on Christmas Day. He makes it a point to get a bottle of wine for the ladies. His sister loves wine. A small glass is more than enough to make her tipsy. Mom stays strong, although she never exceeds a glass. Recently I have started stocking up on cold beers for my cousins. The eldest girl, who is of my brother's age, also joins us to have a glassful. She stays strong. We never give her more than one though. It is always better to be safe than sorry.

At the dinner table, we gather together to say cheers and feast on the food in front of us. At least two meat dishes will be there. Fried rice has been the staple main course for years now. It isn’t about the food. It is more about coming together and enjoying the good times. After the meal the ones who stay next to our home, leave. Others stay on for a while. They take a nap and wait for the effect of the booze to fade away before they can drive safely back to their homes. If they manage to stay for the night, another round of the booze will pass around. My mom is fine with it. She knows this happens only once a year.

As for us cousins, when we were young, we would go around talking and playing throughout the day. Some of us would be seeing each other after a long time. We would catch up on all that is happening in our lives. As we grew up we lost our young innocence. We became busy with our lives. We weren’t attentive when we talked. We always had our eyes on our mobile phones, waiting for a call or a text from someone else. It was one time of the year when I wished we were devoid of it. I wanted to relive the old days. They were much deeper and more meaningful because of which they remain etched in my memory more than anything else.

When I see my young cousins, I always tell them to live out their childhood to the max. They will not know its importance now. I wish there was someone amongst us to tell me this when I was young. I would have tried my best to maximize my experience and make even more memories. Not that I have any complaints with what I have, I just wish I knew its importance back then.