Late. Always late.
Never intentionally. It is just fate.
A missed opportunity to lament afresh,
Again with success could not mesh.
Lost again a golden chance
To progress in life - this cruel dance.
Time is a venture, invest well,
Plan it, so that your coffers swell.
Play, if it gains you, something on a CV,
Sing if it wins you good publicity,
Dance, act, earn a degree
Only to get 'a better life' - is the decree.
'Better'- do we even know what that is?
Is it just another false myth?
In times past better was being naked,
Coating oneself with mud and being sated.
In times now it is the tribal, the 'outlaw', the 'weirdo',
Unless, of course, we to an exotic spa go.
Better. Time. Life. Progress.
Perhaps being late is NOT a mess?
Does it make one question the validity
Of a choice denied. Its very desirability?
Perhaps being late is a gift not curse
That turn not taken, that road was worse?
Celebrate. Enjoy. This mad sanity.
Life is chaos, why impose structurality?
Dance. Sing. Shout. Revel.
Let happiness in you dwell.
The no opportunity is a lost one,
It just wasn't the road on which to turn.
- 28 November 2015
- Dunno why. But it has been haunting me, this delay with my PhD, my projects, my dealines, life in general. The number of times I have had to say NO. The incapability I feel to handle anymore. Perhaps this is my answer to myself.