Wakes me up in the middle of the night, the thought of not being baptized as a regular teacher this year too, pains my heart like it did never before. My life is like a firefly without a light. So tired to wait for the next DPC, which merry go round in about two years. This time I promised I wouldn’t weep, one more promise I couldn’t keep. I blame nobody; thought to have flair for teaching. How on earth did I get so jaded being regular seems so faded. Tried to know what the learned knows, tried to teach as the best does. But here I am just drowning in the rain like a madman laughing at the rain with a ticket for a runaway train. Can someone help me remember how to smile and make it somehow seem worthwhile. Everything seems cut and dry, fifty challenges is what remains of me. Somehow I just don’t believe it, yet it seems easier than dealing with the pain. It’s like I should be getting somewhere, somehow neither here nor there.
My dreams are tied by bloody hands time can’t deny. And in my first memories should have bribed for adhoc – did they wear a black armband when they did the same. I went numb when I learned to see so I never fell for bribery. We got this great wall of fixing things under the table that we can’t trust freedom when it’s not in our hands, When everybody like me are on a runaway train – on a one way track.
The truth is that all of us have our time to be happy and sad, and the conspiracy of silence that so often surrounds sadness today cannot change the fact. Within most of us is a strong desire to hold on to a Govt. job with all the packages of benefit as long as possible. ‘Most hospitals in this country share atleast two characteristics: they do their best to conceal from the patient the fact that he/ she might be dying, and when the fateful time draws near they isolate him/ her from family and friends’. Runaway train never coming back, runaway but it always seems the same.