Of Existence... and Achievement.....

I was lying on the bed the other day, thinking about my life.. and where it is heading. Then I started reminiscing my school days and found that I had no happy memories.

To be frank, I was a nobody at school. Most people ignored me. Those who didn't ignore me, bullied me. It wasn't that I did not have any friends. I did. But I didn't have much fun at school. People look back at their school days and relate stories about the fun they had in school. I find that I have no such stories to tell. In the long life that we live, most of the days gone by are insignificant. We remember only the days when something happy or significant happened. An achievement probably. The rest of the days are lost to the memory. My whole school life was like that. There were embarrassing instances... we cannot forget them even if we try to. Other than that, it was an insignificant phase of my life.

Subconsciously, I may have thought back then that I want to make something out of myself. Six years down the line, I look at myself and ask the question: Have I made something out of myself? Frankly, I do not know the answer...

There are different ways to approach the answer. I can look at my classmates and see what they are doing right now. One of them became an air-hostess, which is cool. Another one joined the NDA, which is cool too. One other is studying in BITS with me right now. None of the rest have done anything significant that I know of. So I say to myself.. look, I am better than most of them. Then I look at my college mates who joined this college along with me 4 years ago. I look at them now and compare them to myself. Not a pretty sight....

So what should be the answer to my question?

A Note's Life: Episode 2

DISCLAIMER

All the characters and events in this story are purely fictitious. Any resemblance to any person/animal/alien living or rotten is purely coincidental. I don't take responsibility for any such "apparent coincidences" and anyone accusing me of plagiarism shall be electrocuted.

EPISODE-2

The cashier put me along with my brothers into the drawer. This was where I first met others of my kind. There were notes of all ages here. Some newborn like me and others almost 10 years old. A lifetime of 10 years is considered "over the hill" amongst us. Notes rarely live that long.

Before I could socialize with any of the notes present there, the cashier took me and my four brothers out and handed me out as change to a customer. The human took us and stuffed us in his wallet. Then he collected his purchase and ambled out towards the parking.

I will take some time to describe this man. This was a man with money. I could tell that from the posh Škoda that he rode. This was a man with talent at charm. I could tell that from the foxy women he rode. This was a man with power. I could tell that from the looks on the faces of the employees whom he rode. Perhaps the only thing that the man lacked in life was peace. He was a workaholic. There was no time for rest or relaxation in his life. I failed to understand what drove him.

Poor men are driven to work by hunger. Middle class men are driven to work by the perennially overbearing concern over their families future. But what drives rich men? Men like these have all the luxuries they can hope for in life. Why do they still fight? Is it for satisfying the greed to have more money than ever before? Is it for experiencing the momentary high of achievement? Do these men and women strive to improve the lives of those around them? Or do they just work because they have nothing better to do?

Whichever the case may be, money is a huge factor in the lives of men. Small and insignificant though I was, it felt good to know that I held power over men. To be ruled by things they created, humans on earth are such big losers!

Coming back to the man in question, he didn't keep me with him for long. He exchanged me for a pack of cigarettes the very next day. Thus came to pass the first month of my life. What happened next is part of the next episode.