My Musical Chair

I have never known any person who writes(writing in all its glorious forms)when they are truly happy. And it's not a recent fad created by Generation-W(hine). It has been there for ages. You just have to look back to understand what I mean. If you went to school or college, where your classmates daintily raised their hands (guys and girls both) whenever the teacher asked if anyone wrote poems, you would know that there are no happy poets even at that age. And if you don't connect with this, consider: all the classic authors thrived upon tales of their own or inspired miseries. Even Shakespeare was more known for his dramas rather than his comedies. I doubt Dickens would have gained popularity if he had written about happy orphans instead of the memorable dirty little Twist. Or, where would Little Sisters have been had Lizzie not died of Scarlett fever? I remember in my college days, somebody had passed on an educational dark piece on Solitary Reaper; the real meaning behind it. But, nevertheless I had always thought Wordsworth had created a sad little poem about loneliness when he wrote about the solitary reaper. So, why exactly is it that whenever over the centuries people have felt miserable, they are compelled to seize the pen(or the keyboard in modern times) and jot down a prose or a drama or a whine(blog post)???

But who am I to question or even defy these ancient rituals? So here I am writing... nah whining yet again. But my most pressing misery is I don't know which misery to pen..errr...type about. Will it be yet another rendition of 'Tale of Two cities'(read Delhi and Mumbai)? Or should it be about fading relationships? Maybe how the rich gets richer, while the middle class man gets more bewildered...Perhaps a philosophical one, where I can explore the need of human beings to be miserable in the first place. Hmmmmm...

I think this post should be about musical chairs. Surprised? Let me explain. I have been playing musical chairs at my workplace these days. The same game we used to play at birthday parties when we were young. Only here, there is no tangible gift. Just the highest 'gift' you can ever get at your workplace. Any guesses? No it's not the big fat bonus, or the promotion. It is job satisfaction. It seems not everyone can get it. You have to play musical chairs and try your luck. Well, my luck seems to be fresh out. I admit I am a bad sport, I have played and I have lost. Several times. And I have a big frown on my face. And I refuse to shake hands with the winner. And I don't know whether to give it another try or walk away. Maybe try my hand at some other game. But maybe the problem is not the game, but has to do with my being a bad sport. Is there any way to know?

Maybe what I need is a perspective. Can it be that I am just suffering from a case of his-grass-is-greener-than-mine? Perhaps, its just the destiny of some people to bear their share of crosses and drag their iron balls around till they finally get what they wanted. Whatever the case be, is it worthwhile to flee the ground in middle of the battle? And in hopes of what? Ephemeral dreams which may culminate into reality or evaporate like dew in the morning?

Hmmmm....well, if I remember correctly, musical chairs did used to be one of my favourite party games!!! Let the music play...