I was born in this world with no apparent purpose etched anywhere across my body, flowing in my breath, or sparkling in my eyes. Yet with time, I grew to become wretched with prejudices, immune to wonders, invincible with desires, and obstinate in making them true.
Life had its own game rules – it always threw choices. And I had to chose, not worrying about the choice I had not taken, the course it promised, and the consequences of the choice I made of my own. It would start (as a toddler) with wanting to touch the transparent barricade of that bespectacled uncle, immediately torn mid-way between wrenching off those big round glasses or grabbing that weird looking nose. Attempting to do both, I would end up thumping the nose hard, squashing the uncle’s nose and making the glasses askew simultaneously. I would leave the choice to him – whether to reel in pain, or set his glasses straight to avoid them crashing down. He would instead tilt his head back, heroicly balance his specs across his nose, and say, “Oh! Such a naughty girl!” – resisting all choices I gave him, and coming up with his own.
Choice. That’s what life was all about. So what would I do with my life? Make choices, of course. But I was also selfish. So I made choices that spoke of *my* desires, made ME happy, and I got away with them as a kid. Chocolate, ice cream, chocolate icecream, barbie doll house, pacman, TV set, Pepe and Live-in, Photography, parties, cell phone, chat rooms, silliness, giggles, crushes, dates, teasing, pocket money, my own room, my own computer, privacy, secrets, best friends, whatever. Anything and everything I did had a me associated with it – my desire, and hence my choice.
I tried to take this into adulthood too. Chose a career that I like – ambition and dreams I could cherish and mould to have higher stakes, make a bigger impact in the society. I was being responsible towards life, wasn’t I.
But that’s not enough. Times change as a young adult, the world is not so gentle in giving-in anymore. I have responsibilities now, and I need a job too to fulfill those responsibilities. And it turns out that the job was only to fulfill those responsibilities. I failed to give in – giving up my current job i.e. If I dedicate half of my adult life to my parents and their responsibilites, other half of my life to my kids and responsibilites, where do I come in? I thought. Didn’t me, this person born on April 1st, have a right to live for its own sake? Like it takes its own breath for its survival, its own heart to live, its own brain to grow. Why can’t this me have its own desires it can chase, and be happy chasing them?
But no. Just like society would shriek “April 1st?!! You’re a fool! Ha ha ha,” it will pretty much ha ha the same way over jobs that are “meagre” because of its own logic. In between all this would come responsibilities, because meagre jobs are enough to satisfy only personal greed but not general welfare.
Wars would be fought. Phase 1, phase 2, and the battles would go on furthermore. I do not want to “give up my future”, I would say. We are a part of your future too, they would say. They being parents. I wouldn’t relent, they would remain adamant, nobody was going anywhere. Slowly now, I began to feel I was being more selfish than was tolerable. I began to understand in the mad desire to hold my future I was not willing to be people’s ray of hope, losing myself and my greater purpose of humanity along the way.
So today, I choose to let go of this me. Give myself up to the world. Take care of them. Be what they want me to be. Gag my heart’s cry. Do I hear sarcasm and hidden grief? Maybe for now, maybe not later. Will it affect me in the long run? I believe in myself so much that wherever I am, I will choose the way I like to live, so in all probability pounce back to where I want to be from anywhere. For now, let me take this step – change my job to a better paid one (a one well-respected by the society at that), quit my heart’s desire, just to let everyone around me live in peace. For a while. And when they’re not worried about me or themselves anymore (or slightly lesser than what they’re now), I will be back in the hunt.
Am I the only one being an idiot here? Was this done in the history? Of course it was. “Kabhi kabhi kuch jeetne ke liye kuch harna bhi padta hai. Aur har kar jeetne walon ko Baazigar kehte hain”
So there. Let’s get ready to rhumble. And quit the grumble.
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