The hypocrisy of my hobbies
Every time there is an ice-breaking session at work, most people are expected to share a bit about their background, experience and hobbies. Back in 2011, when I started working, the answers used to be like listening to music, playing/watching sports, or maybe working out.
Today, the answer is largely dominated by travel & OTT streaming. The odd person says yoga or cooking, making the rest of us gape in awe. You can imagine why, we cannot even have a meal without streaming. The standards for this answer have dropped a lot over the years. They often lead to discussions on what shows and movies are worth watching.
I’m no different; I stream and binge on shows as much as anyone, but during these ice breaker sessions when it’s my turn, I’ve never said a word about OTT. In that moment, I feel an urge to have an impressive answer. Not just to impress those on the call, but myself too. It’s like there’s another imaginary version of me standing there in my subconscious. Let’s call him HPK: high potential Kishore.
HPK is what I imagine I would be like if I pursued all my hobbies relentlessly without a pause. He has published books, plays piano beautifully and effortlessly, has a flat belly, reads a few pages everyday, takes breathtaking pictures, keeps in touch with all his friends. You get the picture.
Where is RK (Real Kishore) though?RK has no idea who this guy is. This HPK guy sounds cool he thinks, and it would be good to know such a person.
But when someone asks me what are my hobbies, I answer like I am HPK. I tell people I have a blog, and that I like watching football. Which probably makes me a hypocrite, because a hobby is not something you do once in a year for a few minutes. The really sad part is though this impresses nobody — neither myself or anyone else on the call. Who the hell has got the time attention span to read a blog nowadays?
We all yearn to be better and live up to our potential, but I feel like I just enjoy the thought of this potential, that’s all. After nearly two years of not pursuing any of these yearnings, the thought of this person feels like a delusion now.
I am not feeling particularly sad as I say this. It is more of a shock. The gaping chasm between RK & HPK cannot keep growing forever, and I think it’s time to accept that. Thinking of this fictional superhero self is not comforting, or adding any value to my life. If anything, it hampers the quality of my free time.
I brought my laptop and a book to a cafe. I kid you not, as I was reading the book, I was feeling the teensiest bit guilty, thinking, “I should be writing right now. I won’t get time like this again.” It’s the same experience when I’m playing FIFA on my playstation, or sometimes even while watching football. It’s like my brain is rating each activity as I do it, comparing it to what HPK would probably do.
That said, I don’t think it is wrong to have an idea of who you want to be. But looking back at the last few years, watching one rapid change after another unfold, the concept of who ‘you’ are needs to constantly evolve as well. It doesn’t seem fair to compare my lifestyle today with that of five years ago. Back then, I thought people who spoke about career were idiots, that my career is going to suck, and hobbies are the only hope for me to have a good life.
The last 4 years that have unfolded have been the exact opposite; how I feel about work has become a lot more positive, and hobbies have faded away to non-existence. Back then, I thought people who discussed personal finance were just greedy, and only I had noble goals. Today I am fascinated by reading up on how to invest and how to save tax. Not only do I think it’s important, but I actually enjoy it.
Life rarely pans out to be what you expect. Just because a few people complimented me on my writing or singing or piano a long time back doesn’t mean I should ‘produce’ something consistently. Sure, I can still pursue any of them whenever I feel like, but until I do, there’s no point in feeling guilty with however I choose to spend my time. There’s no point in morosely telling everyone or myself about all the unfulfilled potential, pretending to be a failed artist whose life is falling apart.
And whenever I do pursue these hobbies, it doesn’t help to think about that potential. Rather than imagining an audience cheering me on to climb a mountain, I would prefer backpacking by myself, going wherever the roads take me, and ignore the ghosts of lost potential.
