Lately I have had abundant time to let my mind ponder upon the past events that have played a crucial role in shaping me into who I am at present- probably a woman with an incredible amount of discernment to her credit. It’s been a good long duration of four months since I left home, and started the next phase of life in the city from which I graduated almost two years ago. And ever since, I could’ve sworn a lot has changed. Not to mention the obvious changes relating to my academic choices, and immediate circles, but more so about the inevitable but gradual changes in my consciousness. Now as I look at it, I may describe myself as a more aware person, who clearly realises trust and bonding aren’t really consistent for everyone you shake hands with.
They say you make new friends in every phase of your life- in school, in colleges, and at workplaces. But now as I see it, it has just not been put in the correct fashion. The truth is we would meet people in every new phase of our lives, who would accompany us as acquaintances through set journeys. The least we could do to avoid the summoning of any unwelcome misery, is to not attribute too much importance to any. The reasons need not be the conventional set of ideas that authenticity is the myth of the modern world, and consistency barely keeps up, but rather the universal truth of family being the only real connection.
They say if you keep things to yourself, shutting the door to the outside world entirely, then you would find no soul to come, hear you, as you become the one to choose solitary confinement amidst the swarm of pestering thoughts. But what if I turn myself into an open book, which every willing passerby can have a look into? Will I then be treated as the fine testimony to a gloomy existence, as I present my history as a precursor to it all? Or will I be looked upon as a crestfallen and heartsick human circumscribed by soaring pessimism, who could never have an end point for the dust to settle down? I reckon the conclusion would come as a judgment by the terms of which I’d be labelled a classic brooder, rather than an empathetic consciousness realising I needed to be healed.
And that’s exactly how people leave you. To their defense I must ask, who likes being around miserable beings all the time? Considering every other person has some kind of a problem with varying intensities, it is saddening but obvious to learn that none wish to be the messiah for the problems of others. Therefore, you either find peace for yourself through whatever means, or find your way into a group of delusional beings who live life with heightened emotions, certainly being in denial about the constant sense of sorrow that prevails alongside every sip of whiskey, every puff of smoke, and every night of blasting music in the nightclub. Eventually you choose to bury their meek versions under the layers of supposedly ‘happy experiences’, as they move ahead with this cursed idea of adulting.
We’re all in it together, on the same boat, sailing towards the same shore. Our experiences are certainly contrasting and dissimilar, as we come from varying places of origin. We all look for company, sometimes big or sometimes small. We fear living alone, even when we are fully aware of the dangers of the world outside. No matter how many faces leave us stranded each day, we still strive to search for newer ones in the hope that once in all these years, we would get what we truly desire. We come from families who wake up to the call for work, and barely have the time to pause for a breath, as they want our lives to remain just as better as it already is. We crave communication; we ravage the internet for websites that could connect us to professionals who would listen. Just then realisation dawns on us and we realise we’re still not capable of affording peace. And that is exactly when we begin to create this idyllic world of ours in which fun offers us all solutions, and the idea of ‘let go until it settles’ helps us keep sailing through, even when we know the shore is yet to be seen.
I once had many friends, and now I have none. I once had places to go, but now I keep to my room. I once had dreams to chase, but now I simply keep up the hope. I once had plans about the future, but now I’ve embraced spiritualism. I once was this decent, sheepish girl who kept away from the modern perils of the society, but now I find ease with a glass of whiskey and loosen up amidst blinking lights. The day I realised the ‘waiting area’ was getting too crowded, I decided to pick myself up, and build my own way. Perhaps this is the change that has come to me.
We’re all living in a delusional world. And that is what I comprehend.