Life after…

Ever wondered how life can be synonymous to the earphone chord of yours? I for one can happily draw parallels with it. Every single day I make it a point to untangle the knots and carefully draw it in a neat loop and tuck it away in a safe corner of my bag which I carry with me everywhere. But the very next day, when I reach out for it to plug in for some soul soothing music it inevitably comes out as a mess. The quicker I try to disentangle it, the messier it becomes and the longer the music is kept waiting. After a lot of struggle, and sometimes debating the situation over and over in my mind there are some days that I give up on it. I decide I do not need to listen to the music. But most often than not I devote myself to its careful inspection. Slowly and patiently, doing away the distraught knots and taking that same degree of care to put it back as one beautiful loop of chord ready to plug into the phone.

Life has become as such now. The more I try to keep everything together, the more it falls apart at a morbid rate. At times, I take some drastic steps thinking that time is running out and I have to pacify things not realizing that life isn’t always like the submissive earplug chord. It has its own mind, and it speaks volumes and mostly doesn’t like the careful nudging. It becomes difficult at times to understand why it is behaving this way. Why or rather how does the earplug chord get messy even after careful examination of its safe house? These people I am trying to appease everyday, they were not supposed to turn rogue. They were supposed to stay through every phase. Yet I struggle to keep them around. From being a constant static presence they slowly turned into an uncontrolled dynamic force and some even hit the escape velocity. A lot of time has passed yet I can not make up my mind as to how I would fare in the absence of these people who for me are like the gravitational pull that holds me together. How does it happen that two people who started out giving almost similar importance to each other, or probably even more, grow apart to such an extent that one of them cease to exist for the other all together? How do people stop taking care all of a sudden? Is it some intrinsic human trait? If so, why cannot everyone do the same? Why do some move on happily while the other become so traumatized that they slip into depression and at times take their own lives? How does one reach a point when they not only stop loving someone who was immensely dear, but their sight becomes unbearable and they slowly start fading to the point of getting invisible altogether?

I realize when an earplug chord with no apparent mind of its own, which submits itself to my whims everyday and goes back to being in a state of calm cannot bear to stay in that shape; how do I expect things to turn out better in life -an enormous state of entropy? It is bemusing how despite belonging to the same species and same race, people are so vastly different selectively on their emotional contents from each other. One doesn’t get to see such mosaics of behaviour among other species- ALL of them “react” in a particular way. So what makes us so plastic? Our bigger brains? How do we even manage to isolate our brains and minds? How do most people think and feel differently? Is it even possible to constantly be under a veil of hypocrisy? They should be worrying dead what if their masks fall off, wouldn’t they? How are we so different from each other? How can we react to a particular situation in a grossly different manner?

The last two years taught me a lot about human nature. I thought I had seen enough. True I had seen a whole gamut of people and their ugly sides. True I had a hard time trying to come to terms that I had to dwell in a society amidst these “monsters”. It was painful. But I had forgot what it was like to unmask people who were close to me, people who meant the world to me. And when I did, my God did it hurt! Probably this is how painful burning in Hell would feel like. When they burn you and put some ointment on your burns and then again dip you into boiling oil. It might be similar what I have been going through. It also taught me that I might be stronger than I thought I would turn out to be. Stronger to endure this kind of pain, stronger to continue trying to appease people who are hurting me, stronger to not being able to give up on the love and care that I have for them.

But then at some point of time, I wonder where do I stop, which is the finish line of all this endurance? Is infinity attainable? Is it possible to shut out all the indifference and continue doing what I am doing? Is it possible for someone like me to become completely selfless? Is it possible to risk my sanity in a bid to endure all the hurt and pain?

Yesterday, I went back home dragging my sorrow along despite the fact that I had spent a rather lovely evening then far in the company of a new found friend and some other colleagues. They make me feel so important, so pampered, so cared for. In those fleeting moments, I felt that I have some worth. But that feeling dissolved quickly when I stepped back into my workplace and it reeked of indifference. Going back to my temporary address, I thought I could strip off my loneliness in the company of good memories. But I couldn’t trace it even after searching for it in the most desolate, undisturbed places. So I resorted to pouring my grief out, drenching my pillow in warm tears. But yesterday in a first, my dejection took a toll on me and I slipped into a deep sleep. I woke up suddenly unaware of the time and place and found myself wiping away the agony. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was 3 am and I realized that I had not eaten a morsel of food nor did I change my clothes. I thought I would be writhing with hunger but surprisingly I did not feel like touching the food. I came back to bed and succumbed to sleep. I realized for the first time how tired I was of all the grief and pain,how months of sleeplessness had finally laid down its arms. I realized for the first time how liberating it was to be hurting yet standing tall after being knocked down time and again.

After looking back at the life that I have lead so far, I can safely say that it’s true that we vie for the attention of those who doesn’t even bother about our existence. We let the ones who actually stand for us and look after us pass, for the recognition from the ones who are at best indifferent to us. I look at myself and can vaguely recognise the distant shadow of myself- a strong willed, determined, independent woman and I wonder when, why and how did I start requiring the validation of my existence from others? Is it human nature to seek acknowledgement in people who hover around our lives at their own requirements? Do we sense incompetence or fallibility in not being appreciated by the people we think means everything to us? Why do we consider them to be the parameter of our thriving?

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