What we were once, we are not that anymore. Our gist remained the same but we became something else over the passage of time. Some call it life, others call it growth. But then, what is life without growth? We are bound to change. We must change. At all costs. Our old ways ought to be respected but not be stuck to. There is only one way and that is forward. This direction helps us in deciding where to spend our energies. Besides, we have limited time allotted on this planet. Maybe our stay here is a vacation of sorts. All our learnings are a testament to what we are and what we are turning into, and nobody else. It’s important to acknowledge that everything that is happening to you is a design made exclusively for you. It might appear like you are not the main character of your story but trust me on this: you are alone on the stage.
Speaking of ceaseless learnings and evolution of knowledge, how does one deal with the ever-changing facts? Last week, the scientists told us that the northernmost part of earth is not where we thought it was. Apparently, it’s now a place called Oodaaq (nice name for a child born to parents who were born after 1995). We keep acknowledging again and again that we shouldn’t stay faithful to the answers. They change. Our only obligation should be towards the vexing thread of questions. Deep inside, we know that the uncomfortable questions make us stronger. They bring us closer to defeating the fear of the unknown. Yes, at times, we might act arrogant based on little of what we’ve researched and accepted to be the truth, but then, there is where lies our single great fallacy. Our experience is what brings us closer to the truth, not borrowed wisdom. Just because you spent 15 months reading about something doesn’t mean you know it all. Just because you had sex once doesn’t mean you had a sex life.
This blog keeps coming back to its favourite child: the topic of regret. You have it. I have it. Even the likes of Beyoncé and Bezos have it. There is no escape from regret for a very simple reason: it’s not a bad thing. Regrets are there to keep us seated in the capsule of reality. Our mental dimensions of the past dictate how we shape our future. Sometimes, regrets can be a factor of success too. A silver medallist could be the saddest person on the podium. To the rest of the world, she came second but inside her head, she couldn’t come first. If you boil down all the characteristics that make humans human, regrets would comprise a major part of the recipe. Fortunately, time heals our consciousness and makes us aware of the limited abundance of time that lies ahead. For a while, we are soaked in self-pity only to rise above the noise and get on with our lives. That’s beautiful. As long as we do what we want to—without hurting anyone else—we are doing great in the gamble of regret. After all, we tend to regret what we did during life, only to regret what we didn’t during death.
If a Pakistani assumes Vande Mataram to be the national anthem of India, it’s understandable. Quite normal to bear misconceptions and misinformation about other countries, even if they are the closest neighbours. But here’s my curious take on this error: if Vande Mataram is not the national anthem of India, is it the national song at least? Asking this question purely from a perspective of popularity. When MS Dhoni was batting in the historic final of WC 2011, the stadium resonated with chants of Vande Mataram. But it was not sung in the traditional tune that Rabindranath Tagore composed it in 1896; poet Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay wrote it in 1882. What we heard that balmy night in Mumbai was the version composed by AR Rahman, on the occasion of India’s 50th independence day. In fact, chances are most people in our country would be familiar with ARR’s version. So, who is correct or incorrect here? Nobody.
We notice greatness but we fail to observe it closely. And if we manage to observe greatness, we often fail to understand it. All of them, every single one of them, achieved their pedestal on the back of their diligence. They had talent and vision but they did the homework required to get ahead. They didn’t take their luck, or more importantly, themselves for granted. The more you read their stories, the more you marvel at how ordinary they once were. Their success defines them but they don't define themselves with their success; that’s our job. To bend it like Beckham, Beckham had to bend a lot too. Imagine the number of hours he must have put to perfect that curve. Forget the ball that skewered into the goal, even his stance was quite gravity-defying. Greatness lies in that delta of a tiny gap between losing your balance and kicking the damn ball.
Our species is wonderful in all respects. Even in our collective failure, we are fabulous. Just look at the varied colour of plastic we leave behind. With us, the party mode is always on. Yes, we want to do good but we don’t always. We stutter in our intent and we crumble in our results. It’s been a long while since we've been ruling this planet with our destructive toys and we are basically splashing the canvas of our exit as vibrantly as we can. There is no way homo sapiens are going to leave without putting up a memorable show for other species to forget us by.
If you are attached to anything abstract, please remember that nothing matters in the long run. Except love. Being emotional fools, we feel like what we believe in is somehow bigger than us. Here’s a fun fact: it isn’t. More often than not, our belief systems are a figment of our imagination that we breathe into solely because we want to add false meaning to our existence. It’s a scam we invent to fuel our being, nothing else. Everything from poetry to religion to ideology to art, they are there because of us—not the other way around. There is no point trying to save them from extinction either. What has to go will go and what has to come will come. Oh, and that will go too.
What kind of a person are you in real life? Nice, quiet, humble, asshole, selfish, contemplative, terrible, reasonable, calm? Whatever you are, get over it for a bit. Now imagine what kind of a person are you in in your dreams? Are you the same person there, with the same composure and anxieties and shortcomings and complexes to deal with? Or are you a different person altogether with an unmatched confidence and an inexplicable libido? Who are you? Whatever the answer is, or answers are, it’s a good thing that you get to dream in your sleep and experience stuff that you may never experience with your eyes open. May you dream the best as well as the worst of things. After all, khwaabon ko tameez kahaan hoti hai?
In olden times, aged people were respected a lot for their words as much as their actions. Today, people are respected on the merit of the words they are about to say and the deeds they are about to do. In modern standards, you don’t have to be an old soul with flowing beard or haggy hair to be suited generously for wisdom. Those days are gone. Even 20-year-olds are spewing the most refined pieces on philosophy in less than 280 characters on Twitter and a little more than 50 words on Instagram. Generational phenomenon. One doesn’t have to have a story to derive its morals. People can now simply learn and deduce on their own. Which is why we can see why those who have never been in fire are happily advising the firefighters on how to hold the hose properly. The epidemic of expertise. Comedy at its worst, philosophy at its best. But it’s alright. In olden times, old were respected from a slightly different angle: most people died young and that made the oldies a sweet minority. And if they could live that long, they must have done something right. In other words, they had earned the right to be heard. At least that’s my hypothesis.
My pappa’s foul mood and my amma’s cheerful persona don’t always complement each other but they do get converted into paragraphs on my blog. To give you a recent example involving their cat named Pili –
Pappa: “Pili bit my thumb.”
Me: “What were you doing?”
Pappa: “I was only petting him.”
Amma: “Even a cat doesn’t like his company.”
Me (ignoring her): “Did you harm him by any chance?”
Pappa (flashing his injured thumb): “Does it look like I was harming him?”
Amma: “Maybe Pili was trying to teach him how to be gentle.”
Pappa: “Nonsense.”
Amma: “Will ask him to bite you again.”
Have you watched Kota Factory (season 1) yet? If not, please do. It’s a nicely written show about academic aspiration in India. Apart from peeking into parental expectations, it also reinforces the theory that if you do something for 21 days straight, it transform into a habit. Could be anything from exercising to quitting cigarettes to sitting straight on your chair. Of course, it doesn’t work if you are keen on reclaiming a country the way the Taliban did. For that, you need to be at it for 20 years. Regardless, isn't it astonishing that we are habitual creatures and at the same time, we don’t like the idea of building new habits? That’s the technical equivalent of a fish showing resistance to blowing bubbles.
There are silent heroes amongst us. They go through a lot, physically as well as mentally, and yet survive to share their stories. In their survival, we find better excuses to stay alive. If you are aware of such individuals, hug them tightly and thank them for making it through. Their subtle victory against all odds is an ode to the spirit that makes life worthwhile. Otherwise, there is not much left to celebrate in an eventless world of yours, where news is always happening elsewhere.
Good stuff🔥
This was beautiful