Life truly is a B**ch

I for one should be the last person to say that B-school life is strenuous and the cause of grey hair causing stress (hair loss causing stress even?). To be fair even someone like me has been able to manage the assignments, quizzes (both surprise as well as well in advance informed types), mid themes, end themes, presentations and everything else that has been thrown at us and managed to stand tall at the end of it fairly unscathed. But there are times when everything just kind of builds and grows to the extent where you yearn for a break, an escape from the claustrophobic walls that have surrounded you while you were apparently looking elsewhere, a simple getaway from the madness called life.

For some solace lies in music. An evening to yourself spent drowning in your favourite artiste offers a simple pleasure that is really difficult to describe. Lying down with the electricity meter having to tick away only due to a fan and contemplating life with nobody for company is often the perfect prescription that unfortunately no doctor can prescribe. Under the assumption that one has the appropriate music for accompaniment that is.

For others a simple stroll will do the same if not more. I don’t really know if it’s about being able to connect with nature or if it’s the spent calories that give you a subconscious sense of relief or if it’s just that the walk lets you be on your own giving you the opportunity to be the observer and thereby watch everyone else caught up in their own little worlds.

While the above 2 have been successful to varying degrees (the fact that I’ve not really had to unwind has therefore not put the above to the proper test, what can I say life’s been good to me) I feel that nothing compares to the simple pleasure of sprawling on a beach on a cloudy day. How does one begin to explain the true extent of the soothing effect that the sound of waves unrelentingly lapping the shore has on a weary soul? Of course the right company has been so far an untyped essential of this. Having them run around chasing a football successfully attempting stunts that will never ever be executed on the football field and smiling to yourself knowing this secret is safe with you is absolutely priceless. Being smart would mean waiting till they have sufficiently exhausted themselves and then getting up off your lazy arse and running circles around them executing some neat flicks, fakes and classic one touch football that would have made any Arsenal player proud. Or at least attempting to do so ….. And when everyone’s too tired to play David Beckham any more they will eventually sit down, sip beer, talk about irrelevant stuff, pull each other’s leg while you grab a cap, make sure the sun isn’t hitting your face and go back to sprawling with a grin and the knowledge that life’s a bitch. Except on the beach.