Its 3:30 in the morning and I am standing at the same crossroad I was standing at a little over a week back. Well to be more precise it has been exactly a week but somehow that doesnt sound quite as flowery... It is cold out here as I stand shivering trying to recollect the circumstances that have brought me back to where I am currently - standing by the road on a cold March morning.

Just a week back as I stood on this same juncture - a juncture not only in the physical domain but also in the mental, I knew exactly where I was going and how I was going to get there. The plans were chalked out and sealed in a bond that none could break, or so I thought, the green signal given. The future lay waiting for me and I was all set to drink life to its lees - no more, no less.

A little over a week later I am not so sure anymore. The cup ran dry even 'fore my lips had brushed the sparkling rim, the plans lay in tatters crushed beneath the overbearing futility of my actions. Or so it seems. It isnt quite what I expected as I set out on this journey full of dreams, hopes, ideas and aspirations. All she had said was 'When all else fails, stop for a moment and look inside you. It is there in the depths that you shall find true hope and with it meaning. I can be there for only so long.'

I didnt quite get what she meant then, brushing it aside as just another one of her idealistic meanderings.....

But somehow something resonates in me everytime I recollect those words. They have started to mean something, and no matter how vague my own interpretation stands as of this moment I beleive it is time to be pro-active, time to take action. I have peered into the depths and seen a force that I didnt know could exist specially in someone like me.

Earlier this morning I was wishing someone would blind-fold me and turn me round and round and round till I didnt quite know which way I was facing, much less know which way was up or down. And when I would stop spinning and my head stop reeling from the agitated circular movements that my body had just been subjected to I would take the path that lay ahead of me, not a single glance either left or right.

Somehow I dont think that is the way to go now. That path isnt for me, never was.
Thank you for everything.

Always back up your nodes, people!

Oh, that empty feeling...

Today I lost a writeup. It was all but finished; the node created, softlinking begun... And then I went and spoiled it all by doing something stupid, and now the writeup is gone. From my scratchpad, that is.

I was gutted. I, in my infinite stupidity, had not been backing up my work. So what was gone, was well and truly gone. And I had been positively slaving away to get it finished.

I was Devastated

Especially because it was nobody's fault but my own. Damn but it would have felt so good to be able to blame someone!


Oh, well... Back to work, I guess.


Defining a Life

Today the surviving September 11 conspirator made his own bones. Zacarias Moussaoui declared in court that he was part of the September 11 plot, that he was to fly a plane into the White House and that he lied to the FBI in order to preserve the plot. He said that when he heard the tapes of the strikes, he felt 'ecstasy'.

Naturally the prosecutors who had come under fire for witness tampering were overjoyed. Moussaoui's defense lawyers, who did not want him to testify were pulling out their hair. The court was transfixed for his testimony. The only person who seemed nonplussed was Moussaoui himself, who has almost certainly condemned himself to death. Few thought he would deliberately throw away his life that way.

Zacarias Moussaoui did not throw away his life. He defined it in that moment. Though he survived the attack he forever made himself part of that group. His execution will not be a tragedy, but an empowering martyrdom. He expects his life in prison to end, only to be replaced by eternity in paradise, virgins available. We will all die. Moussaoui has selected his own death, and forever made himself a hero to many in the Islamic world.

What exactly did he stand to lose? Life in solitary confinement? That's not much of a life. Perhaps he might not have told such a story if he thought he might eventually be released to bomb another day, but he knew that fate would never come his way. Moussaoui chose to burn out rather than fade away.

We shouldn't be surprised by this. Religious zealots don't think the way most people do. For them this world is immaterial, a transitory stage to be endured and overcome. It is a time of testing, with the rewards paradise or perdition. Remember when Republican Secretary of the Interior James Watt said "Jesus will return when the last tree is cut down."? That's the mindset these people hold, and we need to recognize that you, I and they hold very different values.

In a year or three Zacarias Moussaoui will be lead to the death chamber, and shot full of sedatives until he falls into an eternal sleep. He will not be afraid. And that should worry us, because you cannot deter people who do not fear death.

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