Carpe Diem. Live the Moment


Carpe Diem. Live the Moment. A simple thought with tough implementation. Here I am sitting at my laptop, in office, waiting for inspiration to strike. Work environments, somehow, just don’t tend to make it in the top ten most inspiring places. I hear my colleagues crunching away with numbers; snippets of conversation with phrases like “the current CRR is…”, “… it can’t have an excess of 6 months…” I go into a daze.

Then it rams into me, the way my 2 year old German Shepherd rams into me when I come back from work that I don’t and shouldn’t wait for inspiration. My “eureka!” moment will only come when I let it. But it certainly won’t enter my mind when the wheels in my mind are coated with the rust of monotony.

As the rain pelts against the windowpane, I remember the time when we used to be care free in life. The time when we used to grumble about the amount of physical activities our school used to make us do. I’d happily go back to that time. It was a happier place. We could sit and gossip. We could bunk classes! Try bunking your work here and you get turned out on your little heinie. I don’t think I’ll completely ever understand the point of such a work environment. In other words, there has been a steady decline in the degree of interest in work for me. Maybe even for others of which I am unaware.

“Don’t make noise. Don’t look anywhere aside from your computer. Don’t look idle. Don’t look like you’re having fun. Don’t breath.” all of which seem to be the flavour of the month. How nice? Of course, Transition is difficult. Most people don’t seem to want to understand that or remember that. It’s a shame when you see how easily some people let life pass by. But for the most part, it’s frustrating. I don’t know about you but I just feel like taking them by the shoulders and shaking them until I hear a “creeeeaaaaaak!” from their upper stories.

Most people live their entire lives without making it extraordinary. Its as if their entire life has been a single steady episode of tranquility. Personally, I’ve never understood the reason to want to live such a comfortable life. How do you even differentiate one day from another if you follow a set routine?

When I reminiscent about something like this, I always remember my English teacher from school. “ Your stories are supposed to make a person visualize your words. They should paint a picture, the likes of which are incomparable! Its not supposed to look like pig intestines.” she’d always say while brandishing a recently written story and simultaneously managing to throw me a dirty look. I would sink deeper into my chair hoping for an invisibility cloak of sorts.

She somehow always managed to be lost in her own world, except when she was torturing my fellow classmates and me into what she deemed to be ‘inspiration’. I can tell you one thing for certain though, if incessant petrifaction and public humiliation was her idea for inspiring people, she had been in the teaching business for too long. Yet, the despondency of those classroom struggles seems nothing compared to your average office life. Alas! If only someone would invent a time machine.

Barbossa: The world used to be a bigger place.

Jack Sparrow: World’s still the same. There’s just less in it.

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