Jack and his alter-ego

A very drunk and very frustrated Jack happened to meet up with his alter-ego the other day. They shared another drink, and the Alter-ego asked Jack, "You don't look too good. What's wrong?"

To which Jack said, "I love her. I do not intend to live a life of nymph-less misogyny. And I am not a philanderer. I love them. I do not intend to lose their vicarious omni-presence because of a break of faith. I want it to be painless. I know not how it shall come about. Someone drug me to sleep. And wake me up when it is all over. Like in Click. Like in the song 'wake me up when September ends.'"

"Do I really fit into the scheme of things. Am I really one who can handle this. I am not wont to giving up easily. And of all the causes I have pursued as an erst-while zealot, this one cause warrants more effort than all others put together. Or is it so. You think so too? You defer? Maybe. I might be wrong. Maybe this isn't something I should be putting my head into."

"Should I rather not be concentrating on studies? Have I not begun to 'go astray', in their terminology? But again, dear alter-ego, I ask myself: Till when, jackass. Kab tak karte rahoge mugai. And how far do you think its going to take you, eh?"

"I have become a failure-prone device that has run out of warranty. Wear and tear seem to be the only plausible reasons. And the Lord Almighty doesn't cover that sort of thing in the terms of the sale agreement. I might take this up. But will I be able to drive it to a conclusion. Will this be the end of the road? Okay, what if this does materialize actually. What if it all goes hunky dory, and then things begin to fall apart. Will I be able to face upto them?"

"Or should I really worry about it? I mean, I have been doing what they always wanted me to. Do I not owe this much to myself? A pursuit such as this doesn't look good if you're a good-for-nothing jackass. I am not a good-for-nothing jackass. Maybe a little fautly and failure-prone and slightly low on self confidence offlate, but I am not good-for-nothing. It won't be considered another jewel in a crown of going-astray. It is something that I owe to myself. And to her."

"But of all things, dear alter-ego, tell me this: At 23, am I thinking too much. Why should I rather not feel happy in her company, and leave things for the future. Let them fall around and sort themselves out for themselves."

"Give me a solution. I am an analyst with a keen eye for numbers. Talk to me. Speak with me in numbers. Give me answers. And if that which I seek isn't what I am destined for, then make it apparent as soon as you can. I do not want to tarnish that which isn't mine." Having said this, Jack, who was already over-drunk, rolled over to the edge of the table and dozed off.

"I am touched, Jack," said the Alter-ego, "you seem to have learned a lot of things that you weren't inherently programmed for. It is good for you. But this isn't you. Think dude. Are you really in for this."

But Jack wasn't listening. He had been over-dosed, and he was dead for a good forty seconds now.

That was Jack's predicament. What about mine. Sala mai toh daru bhi nahi maarta. :|