Life’s Project

I was in my college last month. It had been more than a year since I was back there. However, everything looked so familiar, as if nothing had changed. I could imagine myself back on the pathways and corridors anxious for Test -2 (or T2), which was 2 days later. I could see myself wandering near mongi with a cup of coffee in my hand, badly wanting for the next week to end soon.

Everything was exactly the way it was, though strangely, how much had changed. There was an odd feeling that I didn’t belong here. No, these kids were carefree. They didn’t have to go back to job in a few days. Goa wasn’t vacation for them, it was a way of life, it was their home, if only for now. I so badly wanted to tell them that they are going to miss this life in a few year. But, I guess, they already knew.

When I met one of my old teachers, I could feel overwhelmed. So many things came rushing back. We sat down  and the conversation to follow was one of the most enthraling ones I had in a few years. He talked about Buddhist philosophy, and the way of life. He talked about life’s project. He asked me what was my life’s project?

Well, everyone has a goal in life. I too have one. But what was my life’s project? Becoming a good engineer and making a change in people’s life, can that be passed off as one’s life project? I am afraid that isn’t true. It should be something big, something with impact, something with a recognition. Right? And, I don’t have that. Maybe not for now. I guess, someday, when I truly realise what is the meaning of this particular dot in my life, I will realize what my true life’s project is.

Well, while I was leaving goa, I texted my teacher, saying it was a real pleasure meeting him. He texted back ‘don’t forget to set out on your life’s project’

Soon sir.. soon 🙂




(‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies)

If you can keep your head when all about you
    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
    But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
    And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
    And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
    To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
    If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

exwfyllo opy8 ready