Words that couldn’t be said caused the greatest misery.
It was his last few days on that desk. Almost everything was as usual. A half filled lukewarm cup of black coffee, a small heap of papers scattered untidily, a blue pencil that he borrowed from someone and then forgot from whom and a mug cum pen stand with some pictures on it. In the far corridor few familiar faces rushing to the cafeteria, guess it was almost lunch time. But he wasn’t feeling hungry at all, blankly staring into that colorful screen of his. Last two years were flashing in front of his eyes. Presentations that ran till late, meetings which made him skip his planned breakfast and lunch, hiding into corners when he tried to be funny and no one in that room got that, proposals that he nailed, it was all there in that 40×45 ft room with wooden partitions here and there. He started it all with the other two, they were inseparable and it turned out great for their little venture. They saw ups and downs together. They had disagreements, big ones but they made it through. They fought over ideas sometimes for weeks and months. They did all-nighters and some of them were not at all fun. They lived on crumbs sometimes literally. They put a part of themselves in it, together. But they were just about to make it through and a grand one. But he couldn’t be a part of this. He just couldn’t. Only if he could tell them why he is leaving. Only if he could make it easier for them.
Franz Kafka, the story goes, encountered a little girl in the park where he went walking daily. She was crying. She had lost her doll and was desolate.
Kafka offered to help her look for the doll and arranged to meet her the next day at the same spot. Unable to find the doll he composed a letter from the doll and read it to her when they met.
“Please do not mourn me, I have gone on a trip to see the world. I will write you of my adventures.” This was the beginning of many letters. When he and the little girl met he read her from these carefully composed letters the imagined adventures of the beloved doll. The little girl was comforted.
When the meetings came to an end Kafka presented her with a doll. She obviously looked different from the original doll. An attached letter explained: “my travels have changed me… “
Many years later, the now grown girl found a letter stuffed into an unnoticed crevice in the cherished replacement doll. In summary it said: “every thing that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form.”
Kafka and the Doll: The Pervasiveness of Loss The healing Story
Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the air-conditioned compartment of the Shatabdhi express could not cool his frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not enti…
Source: A conversation between a Soldier and Software Engineer in Shatabdhi Train – An interesting and a must read Article!
“When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it.” – Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist When I was young, I had a voracious curiosity for the arts and sciences. I loved to sketch and enjoyed going to museums with my parents and siblings. They were big on opening their children’s eyes beyond […]
via Kevin Bethune on Picking the Locks: Journey to Innovation — Design.blog
I found this song in my i-pod playlist after a long time. Its lyrics kept me going in most of the times, reminding that toughness of path and obstacle tells you only that the end will be worth all of it. Aasaniyan/Aazadiyan, I just love this line.