Title-less

I’ve been meaning to write for a while now but have been at a loss for words. I know, that’s a first. ‘Lots’ has been going on and yet nothing. My mind is a mess and yet a blank slate.

I’m packing again. I’m packing up my entire life in Bombay in boxes and suitcases, just like I did three months ago and three months before that. It’s funny how your entire being comes down to just a few boxes and assets. Some you take with you and some you leave behind. Well, I suppose you leave behind far more.

I met a very special man last year who told me I’ll never settle in one place, and that I’ll probably be touring the whole world and be happy. I’m beginning to wonder—maybe he got this one wrong. Maybe he meant to say that I’ll never settle in one home; that the vagabond life, much as I hate it (since it’s within the same city) is the one for me; no choice there. Damn, that’s depressing.

Yes, I was in search of my happiness and for a while there, I found it. Rediscovered myself and all that. But once the rose-tinted glasses come off, you realise that the smile you’ve found is just temporary and perhaps just a way to put off dealing with real life, the way you’re whole life is about to change, as you know it. We all crave change and yet it’s scary to actually face it, isn’t it? When you, till a point in your life, were so convinced that it’s headed in a certain and then poof—in just a moment, it’s all gone.  

On top of all this, you have worry—not for yourself, because you know that no matter what, you’ll survive just about anything. Yes, it’s strength of sorts, but not out of strength of character so much as it is from lack of choice. Life doesn’t throw me lemons; it chucks melons at me.

But you’re worrying about those in your life, those close to you, or at least, those who were close to you at some point. What do you do when you can see someone you care about deeply heading down a dangerous path? You know it, the world can see it, hell, s/he knows it too—but will just not do anything about it. Paying heed to your worries is obviously not an option; you’d not be here if it was, to begin with. How do you tackle something that you can see slipping out of the person’s control, with helplessness setting in? Do you sit back and let that person destroy himself? Do you walk away because you can’t watch him doing so, well aware that he will, indeed, destroy himself? Or do you fight to save him, at the risk of your feelings, self-respect and perhaps any possibility of a relationship with the person, being destroyed along with him? These aren’t rhetorical questions; I’m genuinely throwing this out there, cos I’m helpless and clueless.

In the midst of all this, I think the universe is trying to send out a message. People have been dropping like flies—excuse the crudeness. This is odd, because people die everyday, but the nation and the world only cares when it’s someone famous, or even remotely famous. Did Jiah Khan make the right decision to end her life? Maybe not; but unless you’re in her shoes, maybe that comment should not be made. Committing suicide takes a whole load of guts (no, it’s not cowardly). Many of us have had the thought cross our minds as some point, but have subsequently chickened out. It’s only when life gets unbearable and that pain in your gut is so excruciating that you can’t breathe, that you take such an extreme step. I’m not condoning it nor am I condemning it. My only point in this would be—no matter how crappy your life is, there are still enough people who love you to bits; think about what would happen to them if you were suddenly gone.

I suddenly find myself a little dazed, a little confused and quite scared. I thought I was ready for something, but I find myself suddenly recoiling. I thought I was ready to take a certain step, but when I see it becoming even a little bit of a reality, I just want to find a rock and crawl under it. Damn, this rock has been mentioned too often—really is time to find it.