The Search

The search for that perfect job.

The search for a perfect home.

The search for perfect partner.

But in all this where is the self.

The “I”.

It’s L-O-S-T.

We have been brought up to live in this big bad world with the idea that we need to, rather we ought to, have the best of all worlds.

But in the fight to have all of everything, there is no one, not a single person out of those millions of people who wanted to us to have it all, to ask us if we are fine.

If we are happy…

If we really want it all…

Unfortunately, we are even afraid to express what we really feel. We are scared to cry.

Scared to laugh.

Scared to feel weak.

Because why not, we are supposed to have it all.

And when we resort, when we decide to tell those so called friends of ours, “I am falling weak. I don’t want to continue.” All we get is blank looks. Because after all, we are born to be perfect.

Those judging eyes. The back biting is what we get for opening up.

Because guess what, nobody realises that they are all sailing in the same boat.

The search is on from the moment we wake up to the moment we go to bed.

We are searching for ourselves amidst the people

We are searching for self when are walking on the road with our headphones plugged in.

We are searching for self when we stand in that queue to board the metro.

We are searching for amidst the twenty-thirty people we work with.

We are searching for self in the movies we watch, in the songs we hum, in the food we eat, in the clothes we wear, in the people we speak to.

Because the search for self is nothing but a fight to fit in.