This is an old reflection written when I was in New York. I republished this here to keep all my reflections at one place
It is a beautiful morning ...
The sun plays hide and seek with me through my maroon curtains.
I turn off the AC to feel the nice smell of warm September air.
The streets look deserted, except for an occasional car passing by.
I can see from the window, an old lady, cleaning her garden.
Everything looks so beautiful ... yet something in the corner of my heart tells me ... I don't belong here.
I am not for this peaceful vegetative life.
I long for change, my spirit lives on a diet of change.
My spirit is malnourished ... living only on predictable routine of office, home and endless hours of mindless net surfing.
Is it what you call growing up?
