The Dumpyard Kings

Why not? Yes, literally why not what’s wrong in trying again, typing and typing creating words and sentences knowing they’re captivated and not advancing anywhere, even being uncertain whether it’ll be even completed or not. Then why not just try think and what possibly could be brought from this vast memory called creation.

The Dumpyard Kings

We all our lives procrastinate.... "I’ll do this after this" and entering into a company was one of those fulfilled wishes, as without any aspiring aspirations all I ever wanted was to earn and earn a huge bunch of money...Not even truly knowing what money is in reality. But before I could have moved ahead there was a wall we all have to face called the fundamentals, well coming from a completely opposite background of machines it was a quite different experience, it’s not like I was very core oriented or I would have desired to be shifted in that are but in reality I was never into it, neither I extremely enjoyed what I was studying yet I created memories in between and time to time I was passing or simply clearing  my stream exams, but the learning didn’t stop. 

"I’ll do after this" but that this doesn’t even got restricted there the second hurdle came called the stream test, a different skill we were all taught here, it was new not known by everyone... distributed in a small group of future cloud riders, which formed a happy family among whom I even cut my birthday cake yes it was lovely but it deserves a separate thought page for it. The result hasn't fully come and I pray that I’ll pass as stagnancy and be getting stuck is what I have always feared giving birth to another "I’ll do after this" waits to be escalated into another "I’ll do after this" yet this time it was the term called project. In every new joiner it’s a "hot cake" (A term I learned here) in the market like a marriage where we start comparing our grooms and brides forgetting we belong to the same family and in the excitement forgetting the ones who are still waiting for there counterpart to reply, cursing themselves for a mistake they have never made as the loop of diffraction engulfs them in the nowhere land where the cloud is held so high that the spectrum refuses to accept the miracles it can create the neverland called bench.
The city of anarchy and a complete chaotic ranch where no one is yours and everyone has a voice without any ears to attract. A room where fear rules and "I’ll do after this" becomes indefinite it’s uncertain and unpredictable ground of nothingness, a stagnancy where one day even you’ll feel powerless accepting the vulnerabilities that weren’t even meant to be expected…………..

Well even I went to my project location where I’m not even a complete part, where I exist but I’m not even there,  just like the bench where the hierarchy is parallel the chaos shouts unlike here it murmurs. I’m not assigned anywhere no system to type no work to do the oxygen I inhale and there my terms whispers for a purpose to breathe in the city of destined longingness. "I’ll do this after this" as after doesn’t seem to end, I may suck in my work but I need to work to prove that too. Purpose the biggest desire the craving behind every wanderlust. The new clothes I brought are still waiting for that precise "I’ll do after that" as the energy in universe watches the dot’s whose sole purpose is to connect as they always connect.

Peeking out from the huge shining glass window where I just laid looking beyond witnessing another reality taking place…The eagles flew battling to be stagnant in mid-air struggling to face my biggest fear focusing and scrutinizing as running is for everyone else. They surrounded the gusts (defeating the enemy in his own land) and formed a whirlpool over the mountain of a treasure everyone else left, "garbage" sounds rustic doesn’t it, dumping and accumulating what the city left, a form of diamond where you least expect. What doesn’t has value for me is everything what you ever plead, who knows where destruction can lead to who knows whether the spectrum is not meant for being seen by everyone else, even "I’ll do after this" doesn’t know the battle it takes for being stagnant. Stagnant where the world conspires to move you in that ambient wind flowing in the direction you were never meant. The kings of dumpyard mayn’t be the kings but what’s the point where you let the chaos rule the land where only you belong where only you were destined to win.

By- Kshitij Sinha

17/7/2018


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