Morning without a 'to-do' list is, perhaps, the dearest blessing one can crave for. The beauty of sheer indolence is a rare bloom that often goes un-noticed, un-perceived. Isn't it the eternal time off we all are running after? Isn't it the one long vacation on a deserted island every 'work-shy' like me is dreaming of?
There was a time I used to wonder at night; keep myself eagerly waiting for anything but meaningful. I still remember those long-gone days from my hall-life when time as an entity seemed endless; when theory of everything seemed to malfunction and that too quite happily. I remember there was a song my fellow room-mate used to listen to quite often; a beautiful song by Mohiner Ghora Guli, which equally spellbinds me even today.
The song intends to catch a moment when you feel like you have fallen in an infinite loop of day-to-day living. Being fully aware of a long list to accomplish ahead, you find no valid reason to proceed or execute. All of a sudden you find yourself struck by a mysterious unwillingness. You struggle. You foresee the consequence. And, yet you cannot get rid out of it. It haunts you deep like a vampire love; like a lonely, suburban hotel (California?) that you can checkout at anytime you like but can never leave.
Perhaps, sloth is the only sin (of seven deadly sins) I'd love to keep committing happily ever after.
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There was a time I used to wonder at night; keep myself eagerly waiting for anything but meaningful. I still remember those long-gone days from my hall-life when time as an entity seemed endless; when theory of everything seemed to malfunction and that too quite happily. I remember there was a song my fellow room-mate used to listen to quite often; a beautiful song by Mohiner Ghora Guli, which equally spellbinds me even today.
The song intends to catch a moment when you feel like you have fallen in an infinite loop of day-to-day living. Being fully aware of a long list to accomplish ahead, you find no valid reason to proceed or execute. All of a sudden you find yourself struck by a mysterious unwillingness. You struggle. You foresee the consequence. And, yet you cannot get rid out of it. It haunts you deep like a vampire love; like a lonely, suburban hotel (California?) that you can checkout at anytime you like but can never leave.
Perhaps, sloth is the only sin (of seven deadly sins) I'd love to keep committing happily ever after.
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