Sunday, November 11, 2007

It’s a peculiar feeling when expressed in these many words:

I do not understand why nothing really hurts, nor why I’m never truly happy. On occasions, I’ve wondered if there’s something wrong with such a feeling, and I’ve conjured up dire scenarios and wondered how I would act were they to come true. And even then I’ve seen that my life would go on. That I would find a way out. Does this make my sorrow, my happiness any less important or worthy of attention? I’ve been in situations that would demand self-castigation or would make others label me indifferent or selfish, but nothing matters, really. There exists an equanimity within me that draws its strength from impassivity. That nothing is really important. That there are replacements and substitutes, and remedies and workarounds.

I play so many roles, yet none seems to seep under the skin. Insincere and superfluous, my roleplays may be called. It is true, yet is it only that? I laugh, I advise, I appear, I indulge, I joke, I talk, I am just present sometimes, I work for people, I listen to them, I lie, I restrain, I share, I deter, I correct. And all of these are essentially fleeting—their realities are visiting guests. They do not stay long; they cannot. If they did, they might rot my life because their foundations are flimsy and they start to decompose in a matter of days. People do not and cannot pause to think of such truths because they’re busy stuffing their lives with more. They’re engaged in keeping up with the consequences of one reality, or working hard to acquire a new one. Either ways, they are neck-deep in life or at least busy trying to.

Rob a man of his subterfuges and you’ll see him desperate and lashing out. That is why people are so lonely when they’re alone. No, it is not a sequitur. It is almost an irony that when no roleplay is asked of men and women, they feel lost. Is it because the subterfuges, however short-lived they might be, define their lives?

Human existence is a difficult phenomenon to deliberate on because sometimes there remains no frame of reference from which to plot, to measure, to relate to, or to extrapolate. You love someone the way he is and your love is unconditional. Is it not sloppy too that it leaves his inadequacies unattended, his blemishes intact? Is it blind, or short-sighted, in that case? Should then your love be correcting, demanding, strong and harsh? Is apathy as a middle path worth choosing? Can human discretion be trusted on to mold a newborn who is without habit and possession? Are there adequately strong moral codes for raising a life?

The quality to perceive the human condition is a double-edged sword—the brave will want it to feel what it is like to live, while the meek will say “no, thank you very much, I’m happier with my desensitized life.” Yet, I do not belong to the meek because I can still feel. Does that make my life any happier? No, certainly not. Yet, at least, the life I live in has a window. And sometimes, when I open it, I can see a fantastic imagination rising over fragmented and disagreeing realities. And then I feel truly free, without allegiance and bondage. It’s an awareness without joy nor sorrow—only a deep realization. To even begin to grasp this hint of a feeling, you shall have to step out of that swamped nest in the attic.

8 comments:

Candid Confessions said...

I have come across the ones that disregard the "sensitive" side of them. It probably needs some amount of realization that you are talking about to open up to this side of ourselves. People not being themselves - I pity them!

satyajit said...

candid confessions: there you are! where had you been, o unfailing visitor of yore?

amrit said...

Hey, pretty nice blog, qyt neat and d posts r too good. Dis is d 1st tym I stumbld on2 ur blog. Vil cum bac reg'larly. Keep postin. Btw, u may chk out mine on indisch.wordpress.com.

Candid Confessions said...

Hey Satyajit - to say the least - I was lazy to blog! But like u said here I am.. check out my latest post!

nutty said...

I find there's a common vein running through most of your posts; there's this grudge (for lack of a better word) against the "society" at large for trying to mold a person to conform to some preconceived notion of what's right (preconceived again by this faceless mass of people), and your stand against this conformance.

It's almost like you want to be above and beyond such banality hence the the disassociation from that which gives most people joy/sorrow.

I envy you. I envy you because there's a suggestion of a deeper self confidence that you don't need any of this. While I, on the other hand, am hooked to the inanities of life and in stead of wanting to break free I keep looking for their purpose and significance. If they exist they must for a reason and I keep searching for that reason. You have the strength to believe that if you see no reason to it you have no need for it and you cut away from it.

I guess neither of us is right or wrong. However, while neither of us is truly happy, you aren't pulled down by any of it either, but I get sucked into a downward spiral. Hmmm.... I wish I could cut off so easily.

satyajit said...

nutty: okies

Anonymous said...

its upto you what credit points you attach to any if the aspects of "living" you have mentioned. sometimes people are so busy counting what they do not receive from life that they forget the little acts of genuineness that might be abounding. and you will nver feel convinced about any one of your "roles" if you yourself dont want to. and no one or no thing can make you happy if happiness is not your choice..flimsy..or real, its all in the mind's eye. to make a choice..it depends on whether you want to do it or not..years hence you might be writing the same thi9ng but i do hopw the tables have turned for the hapless emotions then..which are languishing in the depths of uour unconvinced realization/heart or whatever. :)

Suhas said...

"Rob a man of his subterfuges and you’ll see him desperate and lashing out. That is why people are so lonely when they’re alone. No, it is not a sequitur. It is almost an irony that when no roleplay is asked of men and women, they feel lost. Is it because the subterfuges, however short-lived they might be, define their lives?"

good stuff baba, good stuff.