After a while, you quit trying to live life in the manner it ought to be lived.
You understand that it is better to live life in that manner which poses the least effort and pain. Because after a while you get tired of trying; you get tired of fighting. And all you want to do is to go hide under that huge embracing warm blanket and pretend that the little dark perceivable space under it IS all there is to see; that is the world; that is the reality.
No one is ever going to really be able to define reality. So why not define it our own way? The mad man in the asylum is not to be pitied. He is one of those few who have really adapted the best among us.
The ones to really be pitied are a few among us who perhaps keep searching for what might never be and keep trying for what is never ours to see; The ones to really be pitied are maybe a few like me.
How hard is it to change? Change is that inevitable road you take when all the other path that diverge are those where you have already been; been and come back since you realized late that they were taking you in circles - and bringing you back to the same point that you wanted to run away from in the first place.
I think I am finally discovering my cure.
Suddenly, it seems like what is really around is so much more joyous and comforting. My immediate surroundings - the acres and acres of coconut trees around my college, the design lover brother/friend sitting right next to me, the humorous exchange of banter at the back of the class, the impending research viva, the job next month, phone calls to family, outings to the local Dhaba - what I considered as mundane everyday life would have kept me occupied and happy and content for a lifetime. There might not have been anything profound about it but there would also not have been inexplicable hair-tearing depressive about it.
I feel like the young man who got misled and trapped in the promises of lust, coming back wiser to his loving family; welcomed by the open arms of affections of his parents - wondering why he had been blind to this great wealth of happiness all along. Suddenly it seems so foolish - there were right there all the time and yet, it took so long to realize what was right at reach.
I think I have had enough of looking forward to abstractions - people, places, events and time that I cannot see, hear, touch, be in or control. The promise of glorious moments and world-changing ideas - they just happen when you are busy doing what you do everyday. Even if they don't, it doesn't matter because you are busy doing what you do everyday.
I will make an earnest attempt to get back to living - to the demands of the bills, kitchen, class, job, public transport, evening walks and what not; to the people who really ARE there you know; right there - the auto man in front of my house, the maid who comes every day, the grand mother, the friend next door, the boss, the colleague, the bus driver, the child walking in front of me. Wow, the world indeed is beautiful. Let the only things I look forward to be those that await me in the next six hours.
I really think I have discovered my cure and suddenly I am filled by joy of unthinkable measures. Man, I feel happy you know. Happy...truly... after a long time; like the death penalty fugitive who has suddenly been pardoned or the chronically ill man who wakes up one day to find himself well.
I have defined my reality!Good bye, abstraction. :)