The Sea Inside

At different points of time, I have often to move away from the limelight and (yet) would almost always stay put, accepting things for what they were and not what they could be. Like a fire that gets extinguished by monsoon’s first drizzle, like the butterfly for whom life is but the equivalent of death, like the desolate tree whose sole purpose in life is to be made into someone else’s furniture. The sentiment was perhaps the outcome of making the fundamental assumption that financial independence was the by-all and end-all for all that could be described as ‘consequential’ in this world and yet the latter when achieved (subsequently), seemed so shallow and over rated, so uncalled for, so unworthy of the efforts invested and the emotional burnout suffered in the process.

I have always  been characterised as someone  whose behaviour could be at best described as "inconsistent" and yet someone whose intentions were almost always “honourable”, I was not the conformist who would nod his head in agreement while wanting to (all the time) scream out loud for his twenty seconds of fame, I was not one who would befriend people because I wanted ‘emotional support’. And yet  I lacked and I use the word categorically, lacked the emotional resilience required to survive and make peace with all that was horribly out of place.
I had spent my childhood in an environment which encouraged me to question the status-quo, among parents who had sacrificed necessities to ensure that I was given access to best in class learning resources, admitted to best in class educational institutes while they waited, patiently, in silence – hoping that I would rise, triumph over prevailing exogenous factors, hoping that I would imbibe within myself the values that they stood for- for a life without values could at best be described as “futile”.
One of my better achievements in life is that while I have not met the expectations of a number of people who matter, I have never really compromised on what I believed was correct. While it is correct that I have not amassed the necessary finances to support the people who have made me what I am- (who have insisted all the while that they required no support), I have never forgotten their contributions. I still remember the image of a mother, with a child, wading through knee deep water, protecting the child from the downpour, the image of a young couple ,used to leading a life which could at best be described as  “privileged”  who did not hesitate to imbibe in their child , values which they believed could make the infant a better and stronger individual when he grew up, values which they had stood for , all their life, values which had promised so much and given them so little.
As I sit down, writing this post, I recollect the numerous occasions in the past where I could have settled for mediocrity in return of amassing a group of well-wishers who would be with me one moment and disappear the next. I would probably be lying if I did state that among that hundreds that I befriended I have probably trusted only a handful- for while many of these well wishers had the best of intentions, the emotions seemed “manufactured”. It must however be put forward that these are but manifestations of how “I” interpreted situations and people around me. It is said that a man’s mind is delusional, I hope, but cannot promise to be an exception.
I have never known what it takes to make one happy, I have strived to achieve academic excellence and yet never really discovered contentment, I have professed affection and loyalty and yet have felt “incomplete”- I have made countless promises to stand for virtues which make the world inhabitable and yet have chosen permutations for sake of convenience. What has however, been binding was/is the fear of death- I remember reaching out to the most beautiful woman in the world on discovering the facets of mortality, remember weeping in her arms telling her that I didn’t want her to leave me, telling her that so long as the grass was green and the sky was blue, she would always be the only woman that I loved, my mother.
As I look back now, I look at a life which can at best be described as a partial disappointment, a life which promised so much and delivered so little, primarily because I was so often at crossroads- never really knowing I wanted, never really knowing what constituted happiness and contentment. And yet knowing all of this, I had never been able to let go.
As I sit here writing this post, I donot know where my interests lie, I donot trust people unconditionally, I feel extremely uncomfortable in social gatherings-  I know for a fact that I am at crossroads, yet all paths seem to move away from what I would have, at one point of time hoped to achieve at this point of my life. I am but a wanderer, a wanderer without purpose, a wanderer who will perhaps never understand or appreciate the true meaning of life.
I once told someone I loved that I have always found her to be more attractive than others in the crowd regardless of whether or not she proactively attempted to entice and influence public opinion. She in turn replied that my response,although flattering was perhaps not shared by everyone for “not everyone was in love”. I looked away from her, towards the clear horizon - it had stopped raining... perhaps it was time to head back home..

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