Cul-de-sac

The horizon was begiining to blur as he gazed at the distance in the dark of the night. He had been given 12 months to put it all together but he had failed miserably. Unlike in the past, he was running away from reality and ducking challenges. He was feeling lonely and had started questioning the purpose of existence.

He had stopped playing the beautiful game; he hadn't bowled full throttle the way he used to love doing in college for over four months; he had quit newspapers too, something he hadn't done all his life. His food habbits had become wayward and he had taken recourse to torturing his body. He had shed 4 kilograms over the last week.

All of this wasn't new to him. He had been through all this and much more a couple of years ago but then he had known the cause all along and where the salvation was, just that he had become too weary to make that effort. This time around, he knew that there wasn't going to be any salvation.

He had tried reasoning out with many people but all the counsel had left his mind muddled.

Maybe, he was just going through a bad phase. His soul-mate had fallen seriously ill; he had had one of the nastiest tiffs in his life with his punching bag for all seasons; one of the nicest persons he had ever come across had left him to build his own canvas; Liverpool were having one of their worst seasons ever and India were contriving to lose cricket matches.

It had to change quickly for his sake. He realised that he needed a change in his environs. He packed his bags and....

Cul