Don’t ask, don’t tell
Warning: This blog post is about me and, by undeniable extension, about you.
I learnt a lot of things from a lot of people. In fact, I am at that age where everybody reminds me of somebody for what they taught me either deliberately or inadvertently. In my book of memories, safely hidden among the many graveyards of my consciousness, all the people I’ve encountered and vice versa have left an impression on my personality as well as psyche. I got my compass of good and bad from my mother. She also ingrained in me a taste for unexpected niceness; what impresses me about a random person today would surely impress her too. My dad made me understand the necessity of poverty and he did so by working really hard. My sense of loyalty and industry comes from him. Despite his stressful halo, my brother has grown to become the epitome of decency. Similarly, some of my teachers — academic or otherwise — instilled a bit of themselves in me. The same can be said about all the friends I’ve had the good fortune to be with. I’d like to believe that this procedure remains true for others too. We may not give enough credit to their contributions toward our overall development but we should at least bear them in mind. Of course, not all of them are prone to leave only positive impact on you. Most often that not, there are rough patches to be smothered. For instance, my family continues to be my epicenter of anxiety. Whenever the phone rings, I am worried something bad happened. Let’s say, we play each other as much as we play a role in building each other.
Besides, what doesn’t break us builds us.
Fair enough?
Well, now, look at yourself. The eternal question “Who are you?” screams at your very being all day all night. Except that we are so subsumed by our external features and stress, it leaves little patience to introspect. Who am I? Why do I do what I do? Where should I go? Which is the right way? Etc. Such an exercise might help us in gaining some momentum in our endless fight against existential crisis. When we discard such questions with a callous “How does it even matter?” aren’t we doing ourselves a massive disservice? What’s the point in being a terrestrial creature who has access to these questions? Your dog doesn’t have the mental bandwidth to even wonder what lies beyond the design of nature. Or to that extent, even his bowl.
Granted we are advanced and modern and woke like never before, we are still in dire need of calm. Something is troubling us and somebody is supposed to be responsible for it. If we can’t put the blame on a mortal entity, we’ll safely place the crown of responsibility on gods. It can never be you. It has to be others. That’s the modus operandi of a human being in today’s world of needless hurry.
Going by what’s the trend nowadays, I’d neither look outside of myself for answers nor peep within myself with questions. I am going to stay put with my delusions of normalcy. Instead of coming to terms with my decay, I’ll pretend to be fine with the ongoing display of farce. I’ll ignore the essence of philosophy because it’s boring while continuing to dip myself in the sauce of corosive pop culture. And when nothing works, I’ll take a break from the ever-transforming society and go on a trip to a faraway land for a weekend or so. After re-energizing myself, my return to where I was earlier would be marked by a rejuvenated me who has no value for anything sacred. As planned, I’d be floating as usual hoping to land somewhere meaningful someday.
