It is dawn.
Dad used to tell me.. Its was his four mile ordeal daily through the woods to school, that kept him fit and fiddle throughout his life. Grandpa, may his soul rest in peace, always said.. it was his work in the paddy fields which gave him calmness and  peace of mind.
So says everybody of the generation past. So be it.
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 I’m here in this lonely room, in this ‘not-so-lonely city’. I’m an Engineer, for that matter. Rather unfortunately pathetic one. All I can hear from this room is, horns and clatters and construction noise. There is a hell lot of noise, yes. Still, It seems like i’m alone here.
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Aah!! Banglore. For beginners, its paradise. For me, its nothing but a concrete jungle.
It is dawn. But I can’t see the sun. There is light. But all I can see is, shadows. I feel like lurking like a vermin in the shadow.
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Five years back, I was the happiest person. was on cloud No.9, I was. Seemed like I’m on top of the world. Seemed like I ruled everything around me. Thought, I was happy, then.
I was wrong. Terribly wrong
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It was not long, that I started observing this. I rarely see the sun. huh!! I meet my room-mate even rarer. Apart from the mechanical-men and stray dogs and mosquitoes (yeah definitely mosquitoes.. plenty of ‘em), I donot see any living creature either! It is like, even when I walk along the crowd, I seemed to be alone.
Correction: I AM bloody alone.
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Hence began this weird routine of mine. At noon, whenever I could see the sun at last, I would get to the window panel, look up to catch a glimpse.
To see one real thing. To realize that I’m real. To realize that I’m alive.
Rainy days are bad. yeah! real bad. And I hate it when it rains at noon. whether it be rain or discussions, I would love to hate anything that prevents me for reaching my only Ecstasy. My only chance to smile for once.
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A couple more minutes, and we’ll part for the day. And me, back to the shadows.
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I used to be fan of Lord of the Rings. Used to have goosebumps when Gandalf yelled to Balrog at the Bridge of Khazad-dum.
I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor…”
The dark fire will not avail you, Balrog! You Flame of Udûn.
Go back to the abyss, you creature of filth. Go back to where you came from.
YOU–SHALL–NOT–PASS
Used to have goosebumps, then.
Now, I feel pity. I sympathize him, who is a bound for all eternity in the darkness.
For I know what is that he feels.
For I fear, That I’m bound to this hell to the end of my days. Bound to this hell for ever.
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It is dusk. The shadows are lengthening. And my daily quota to smile is over. For a person who spend most of his time in the shadows, I should have been named Balrog.
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Correction: My Name IS Balrog