Open hands and empty mind

There are times when you write aimlessly. Just to write. May be, it's a way to express what you feel when you do not have a company to share. Today is one such day.

When I think of my stay in village, my life is peaceful but empty. It is full of moments but not memories. I have crowd around me but not people. I am happy but not joyful. I can speak but not say.

May be I am not used to taking a backseat while driving my life. But is it all about that?

I am currently all about the days when I keep pondering of burning my midnight oil to achieve dreams, and living it, which leave me frustrated for not being in present. And those days when all I think about is my project for which I have come and spend days laughing, reading and hogging on good food because life set hai boss.

This seems to be a perpetual aura created by my mind to kill the boredom and keep myself occupied with neverending thoughts, or may be a part of enlightment from reading George Orwell books, who knows.

All I feel is like a kid watching sunshine falling in a dark room through a minute space with kid wondering why does the sun even shine!