This article is dedicated to my dear friend Karan Sharma :D
The files and documents litter my table, beaming out from my chair in a static pattern of blueprints, brochures, notes, and innumerable reference documents. I sit in my murkily lit room and gaze unobservant at the latest project report that has occupied my focus and mind for the past four weeks of my beingness. One hundred forty pages of miniscule print stare apathetically back at me, the innumerous overwritings and strikethroughs garnishing the paper like so many spiders spanning an vast web of letters and words and sentences.
“Karan?” a soft tender voice behind me agitates me from my fruitless daydreaming. I spin in my chair to see my wife staring concernedly at me from the kitchen door. I impel my face to arrange itself into a pale smile. “Pammi, go to bed sweetie. Just because I’ve got to keep these ungodly hours doesn’t mean you should have to suffer along with me.”
She heads over to my desk and gives a grave sigh. “I know, I’m just going back. I got some coffee in the pot, in case, if you want some . Its on that table.” Pammi gives an admonishing look at the heap of papers cast about the desk. “Don’t let it get to you too much honey. It’s going to be stupendous, I promise. You’re an amazing brain Karan, and you’ve done things more difficult than this so many times before. The fact that this is so large only means that when it’s finished, it will be the most outstanding one yet.”
I summon all that I have to give her a surefooted smile. Quenched, she kisses me on the cheek and scuffles tiredly up the stairs to bed.I turn my eyes from the staircase and back to the task at hand.
Refocusing on the documents, I continue to look out for the finite errors and discrepancies that fracture the report work. Over and over, modifications, eliminations and rectifications seemingly without end. Knowing, somewhere at the back of my mind, that it is never gonna end in reality.
The files and documents litter my table, beaming out from my chair in a static pattern of blueprints, brochures, notes, and innumerable reference documents. I sit in my murkily lit room and gaze unobservant at the latest project report that has occupied my focus and mind for the past four weeks of my beingness. One hundred forty pages of miniscule print stare apathetically back at me, the innumerous overwritings and strikethroughs garnishing the paper like so many spiders spanning an vast web of letters and words and sentences.
“Karan?” a soft tender voice behind me agitates me from my fruitless daydreaming. I spin in my chair to see my wife staring concernedly at me from the kitchen door. I impel my face to arrange itself into a pale smile. “Pammi, go to bed sweetie. Just because I’ve got to keep these ungodly hours doesn’t mean you should have to suffer along with me.”
She heads over to my desk and gives a grave sigh. “I know, I’m just going back. I got some coffee in the pot, in case, if you want some . Its on that table.” Pammi gives an admonishing look at the heap of papers cast about the desk. “Don’t let it get to you too much honey. It’s going to be stupendous, I promise. You’re an amazing brain Karan, and you’ve done things more difficult than this so many times before. The fact that this is so large only means that when it’s finished, it will be the most outstanding one yet.”
I summon all that I have to give her a surefooted smile. Quenched, she kisses me on the cheek and scuffles tiredly up the stairs to bed.I turn my eyes from the staircase and back to the task at hand.
Refocusing on the documents, I continue to look out for the finite errors and discrepancies that fracture the report work. Over and over, modifications, eliminations and rectifications seemingly without end. Knowing, somewhere at the back of my mind, that it is never gonna end in reality.
