He now remember those sweats bled in the field to hone that pull shot to match Dravids & Pontings, those Words by hearted to take on the convent brigade, those push ups to maintain lean skelton, and lately those movies seen with utmost fervor to make one of his own.
But has it happened overnight? No. Has it taken just one failure for the courage and ambition to die down so easily? No. Nothing happens overnight-neither success nor giving up. It takes effort in both the cases-for to grab and to let loose .
But weren't there were warnings ? Yes, there were always. There was warning not to take Arts-he yielded. There was warning in taking up willow-he yielded. There was warning against Management education-he didn't. There was warning for upholding Roark-he stood up. There were warnings against frequent job changes-he never cared. There were warning against taking up film writing-he laughed.
So is there any one reason? Money and survival obviously are major factors but there is never a single reason for giving up. There are always permutations and combinations. Money he never cared-neither as a mean nor as an end. Its about belief, values, about man as he thought of-man that was never there. man that shall hardly ever be.
So who is to be blamed? None-not he neither all around him or probably all.
The world as it is: The world around him the moron, is ruled and governed by bigger morons. Be it public or private enterprise, media or politics, arts, sports or education, trade or entrepreneurship-the only way to succeed is by teaming up, forming cartels, giving up values, getting corrupted, sucking balls-plugging up with jerks. Honesty and Integrity were just another words for him as well. But the more he was denied his due the more he believed in them-the more he failed and the more he suffered. So its neither the fault of that man the moron held in highest esteem for his vision and values which were later to be given up for higher greed nor of that man who held Arts sacrosanct but later went on to build his own cartel. The fault doesn't all lie with the moron too-after all he believed what he visualized and could make of the world around him. The world at the end was found to be just another stage and having seen the drama from close quarters there was not a single actor that would inspire him to move on. The world what it has to offer coupled with his own follies and blunders was a difficult proposition to digest. The only place a Hero can be found is in crematory and doubts are so abound that he thinks if those too were made up stories or what. Yes nobody is perfect and none ever will be but still there should be a semblance of an Ideal once in a while.
The world that could be