You are fatigued with your mom watching the lousy saas bahu spectacle on tv, and just when its ur turn to master the remote, Bam...! Powercut !
You're in a queue, waiting to withdraw money from the ATM, and when its finally your turn to push the card through, the machine's empty!
Its like some kind of jinx. There isnt one day when at some point or the other, we dont end up saying...Why only now ! Somehow it always looks like time is into an earnest conspiracy with luck, just to spite us. you bang your fists, crush your jaws, look up in frustration and you can almost see god smirking down upon you. Why does this have to happen. Why oh why.
Yesterday, i spent a whole nintey minutes at the bus station, waiting for a 314. There were a million buses. 313, 315, 341, 431, 134, 143...all kinds of permutations and combinations. But out of over a hundred buses that passed by me, not one was the one that i was waiting for. Now i know that there were at least fifty other people, waiting for the same bus. But that brought little solace to my bittered heart that was only thinking that this was just another currish trick of the celestial hero, who always liked to make his presence felt for all the wrong reasons.
Now, that seems to suggest a new dimension to the postulates of believing in god. Theres always someone to blame ! Isnt it. Well picture this. How would it be if there was no one to curse. No one to hold responsible for something u couldnt control. if each time you tried as fairly as you could and yet got disapponted, and had no 'luck' to blame and no 'god' to curse. and all you could say was 'que sera sera' or 'hey, this is what i deserved'. Though this is how its supposed to be, going by our idealistic teachings...it would be awefully prosaic, dont you think. Well i do. Cuz i know you cant get everything you want, when you want it. And i know that Que sera sera it is. But still, even those insipid moments need some flavor, dont they. I know bickering and blaming would get me nowhere. Yet, we seem to derive some kind of vindictive pleasure out of an assumed verbal payback. Trifling? yes. But sorta assuaging, isnt it.
So is it okay to squawk and complain? Well, i guess yes. If dear god is as kind and forgiving as the book says, i think he'll understand. Nothing personal Thou Loving Master, we love you too.