How a few people become the worst victims of lifes game, or to call it their own fate. How they are compelled to analyze life, wasting most of their time meant to prove themselves in the real world. Not their fault! Categorically not their fault! They can't help but waste time in figuring out what life is all about and why they are meant to play such undesirable roles. They need to feel better, and hence they begin to analyze life - to find out if something worthwhile can be achieved by them, to find out if at any point of time they can quit being laughed at... being embarrassed... untangle themselves from the web of hoodoo. Their quest begins, they seem to never find an answer for the way their lives are happening. Much of their time is going wasted but they need to importantly feel better than doing anything elze in life! They do not want to call it a hoodoo - after all they are only trying to feel better! They begin to presume its just a part of life and then they suddenly realize its been that way for the past 20 years, it cant be just a part of life!

Even as sometimes they are happy, by the end of the day they can't help but sit back and think about what life is all about... with tears in their eyes. Ironical it may seem, but they are only afraid the hoodoo is soon going to be back! They begin to presume that happiness and they dont get along very well, or rather its not them to be happy at all! Sad everyday of their life may become with their own good hands they push the happiness away, they are still not sure if its meant for them, or for how long it would stay. They are scared to own it because they are some how sure theyll very soon lose it! How are they so sure? Their instinct? A True one that too? If its true then this truth is graver than death, brings more sadness than death would. Guilt would seize them when they are happy , tears would flood them when they are sad, and they go insane when they cry all of it unknowingly and unwantedly happening with them.

Thomas Edison had invented the bulb. After 99 attempts of course! It wasnt a failure one bit but because finally the solution gave in on the 100th attempt! He successfully got the answer after the 99 attempts. But to them, the question struck them a billion times, and each time it struck them further and further; it quivered, it seemed very familiar and yet so new and strange, it looked light but felt so heavy in their heads. It gives them sleepless nights and the next day they are tired and indolent, their faces drawn long. This killing thought process blunts their facial features too clearly proving its physical consequences. It's the beauty they have always craved for, but the thought they would always cling to and never leave, would eat it away. They stand their helplessly looking at themselves in the mirror, gazing at their red eyes with bags under them and still trying to figure out or read what they are trying to see or tell.