The race ends and the journey begins...

A friend of my fathers had come visiting him. My father and he were colleagues and had worked together for about 30 years. He stayed at our place for a night. Below are my reflections on this slice of life.


A stage comes in a man’s life when he pauses and thinks over his life. Sometimes, this pause in the run becomes the end of the race. He sees a tunnel approaching and realizes that the finish line he had been running for is no where to be seen.


He turns around and stares back at the long path he had traveled. He wonders how he had come this far without even noticing it. He barely remembers when he had started this rush, but had never know why. He browses through, the now faint, memories. The tunnel ahead is not known to him. He had traveled through many unknown lands and crossed many seas; nothing had ever scared him. But now he wants to run no more. May be he is tired.
He decides to travel back, whatever distance possible. This time it would not be a race.




He walks slow-has no-where to rush.He meets few acquaintances on the way. Some had slowed down but, were still in the race.Some were those whom he had left behind in the race,were dejected and had since never moved on.Now he stood with them.


Some like him had started their own journey back, but he doesn’t want to join them. The journey is his and he has to travel it all alone. Loneliness is not what he wants; solitude is the name.

Some doors that were open while he left,were now closed. May be the tenants changed, he didn’t bother to check. He was greeted at few others. The faces looked familiar. With the wrinkles on their faces he realized that his journey would be indeed very long. He had left these faces young and beautiful.


He might not complete his travel back but he is happy that the race has ended and the journey has begun.