The journey of a worried writer -Prologue

I woke up one night in cold sweat to find most of my friends getting hitched.

As I investigated further, I stumbled on a few more eye-catching developments. Someone
moving abroad to study, work or settle down. Someone moving to new cities to begin a new
life, someone achieving noteworthy corporate success. Someone starting up on their own,
despite all odds, and someone cracking up highly competed government jobs after years of thankless
dedication. Not to forget the selected few who through years of training and discipline would
earn smart-looking olive greens and take up the highly illustrious career of protecting India’s
sovereignty.  

The ether called Facebook was filled with such developments- the happiness of union,
the joys of celebration and the well-deserved pride of hard-earned labor.  And as the world slid
into a sound sleep after a hard-earned day, I couldn’t help myself but stay wide awake with a
growing Identity crisis.

A crisis that yield endless uncomfortable questions-

Why is my life not as luminous as displayed in the ether?

Where did I fit in amongst the lot? To which tribe did I belong to?

Have I been pushed back into a commonplace existence?

But most importantly, what constitutes true happiness? 

Two pillows weren’t enough to help me reach a satisfying conclusion.
The rising disorientation continued for eons until I found answers to my ignominies
when I watched a movie called- Dunkirk. 

Fret not.

The post is not all brooding and philosophizing as I make it out to be.
And neither does it fall into the cliched trap of nostalgia.
I will get around positive thinking in some time.  

But before I expend a counterblast of 3000 words,
I would like to clear a few things up from the very outset, 

First, Time is Money and I value your time.
Hence, I have divided my discourse into five equal digestible bits.
So that it is easier for you to chew, cherish and let the piece melt in your mouth as you please. 

Second, I am not a reputed writer with an exemplary line of work and neither do I belong to
the spectacular bandwagon of IIT-IIM writers to generate enough interest to read my post.
So, you have the option to skip this and life can move on to the next news feed.
However, I have a left a link to my portfolio, in case your inner critic is skeptical about my claims. 

Third, I am not hard on the IIT-IIM academia. As you will see (if you intend to), consider it,
for the time being, a lover’s quarrel, a family disappointment or simply a tantrum against the
Indian education system. 

Fourth, even if you are not attuned to superhero movies, you can glean the meaning from
the surrounding expositions.

Fifth, this post is IN NO way, or even remotely, sponsored by D.C or Warner Brothers. But I can’t think of a more substantial role played by anyone other than Amrutanjan,
Kingfisher Premium (P.S Packaged Drinking Water), Odomos, Mangaldeep Agarvati, Gelusil and
to so some extent Café Coffee Day- in giving this note a definite shape (and defining my everyday
existence)!

And lastly, despite the piece being elaborately long, I assure you, there will be a lot of yawn fun.
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