Dear
(Please Insert Your Name),
Before
I get down to start sharing what I am going through from past couple of years,
I want to put down some questions for you, and if you are reading this, try and
share your answers, they are just random questions, it won’t necessarily
enlighten me about the subject, but at-least I’ll have a perspective to look at
it:
 |
| Photo by Andre Mouton on Unsplash |
How
does rejections (not merely in professional front, but also from a personal
point of view) affect your outlook towards life?
What
is your first impression of an emotionally broken person?
How
does one cope up with the guilt that is driven by being dishonest with your own
ambitions?
Which
is more important, being in love with someone special, or be loved by someone
special?
Is
being mediocre or average a bad attribute?
Do
the books we read define us the kind of person we are, or the kind we want to
be?
First
important thing that I want to tell you, if you are reading this, “I love you”
(Obviously not in a romantic manner, because then it would be awkward for me
and for you as well), but in a more genuine and straightforward manner,
something which I have been lacking in my life for the past two and half years,
to tell people what I actually feel about them rather than telling what they want or expect to hear from me. I
have come to realize this, that love gives us this opportunity to finally be
more of ourselves, and if something is able to provide us those walking ground
and space, it sure must be utilized very delicately and smartly. I will
specifically emphasize on two words, delicacy and smartness because without the
presence of these two attributes, that space will slowly get more generic and
will lose its essence.
I’ll
start this letter with the iconic epilogue from the Johnny Depp and Penelope
Cruz starrer 2001 movie, “Blow” which
has stayed subconsciously with me, for reasons still unknown to me.
“So, in the end, was it worth it? Jesus
Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become? It's always the last day of
summer and I've been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I'll
grant you I've had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most
people by while they're making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime, I've
left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there's almost not enough to
stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my
talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door”
I
have this recurring nightmare, that I am about to die, and I say these lines,
not to anyone but myself, and then I wake up terrified. We will get back to
this part later.
There
are certain moments over a period of time that stays with you, and whenever you
think about that time, it makes you smile, you cherish each and every moment of
that time, in my case that period lasted for about 25 months. I realized the
nervousness of what it feels like to be in love with someone who has a pensive
pair of eyes, I experienced what it feels like to have your name printed under
the logo of an international journal, what it feels like to be in your own personal
happy space, be content with what you are doing in present, and somewhere
planning what you are going to do in future, I bid goodbyes too, some happily,
and some out of circumstances. Goodbyes are always tough, you have this
constant fear inside you that the time gap will change you and the person, if
you are lucky enough to meet them again, how will the dynamics work out? and if
you try and ignore the goodbyes, and act as emotionally non-vulnerable person
(which I did, and still practice a lot of times), it just hits you in the face
sometimes randomly that you might not be able see that person again, that’s a
difficult spot to be in.
Then
life happened. A small-town guy trying to make a living in a big city, totally
lost under the train of his own thoughts about survival, felt the transition
from living life into surviving one, and that transition left a sort of fear
inside me, a fear of undefined nature, perhaps, the low confidence to face
people, the act of trying to balance life between living and surviving was and still
is bloody exhausting but what still kept me going was my ambition, and if you know
me even the slightest, you’ll know what the ambition was………’is’.
Sometimes
it amazes me, how detached I get with people, yet contradictorily, I think a
lot about the moments I spent with them. It’s such an ambiguous feeling that I
cannot come into a conclusive outcome about my nature, again, the question
arises in my head, do I really need to find that conclusive answer or should I
just give myself this age-old theory that this is how life is supposed to be,
you spent some moments with some people, then everyone gets busy in their own
lives, the distance starts developing gradually, and once that distance is long
enough, life throws around more emotional speed breakers (insecurities,
regrets, angst, anger, misunderstandings) to make sure you do not even try and
cover it, I know I am sounding too shallow by making it sound like this is all
because of life, and acting as a victim and making life principle antagonist of
the journey, whereas in reality, one might tell that these situations in life
are driven through my actions only.
Have
you ever wondered why most of us only tend to recall moments which were too
happy or extremely sad, we find hard to recall any random moment from the past
which was uneventful, “we are acclimatized in such a way, things can only be
white and black” is not the answer I am looking for?
Last
year, a friend of mine sent me a hand-written letter with a copy of “The Raven” from the great Edgar Allan
Poe, I always re-read that letter and book to understand why I have not been
able to follow all those words of advice that she had very accurately pointed
out, I still judge people on the basis of their actions, I have still not
learned how to love myself more openly, and yet to learn that
sometimes, a clear ‘No’ is important.
I
am still trying to contemplate the relationship between personal triumph and
empathy. Does one even exist between them? If so, how does on draw lines to
separate their own individual importance.
Last
two years have been quite a roller-coaster ride, despite coming so close to my
dream, I couldn’t make it, have seen someone close die a very painful death,
got rid of my insomnia without depending on any pills, left two ‘safe’ jobs
only because I was treated like a piece of shit (I am being told by few people
that it’s because I am one), have experienced how quickly people around you
change when you are unemployed, and have nothing much to offer (in terms of
money, words or your presence). Perhaps the reason for my recent absent-minded
behavior is the culmination of the anger and bitterness that is building up
inside me for the last two years. This is the reason why the epilogue of “Blow” has felt so important and
relatable, I do not want life to pass by me while I am making grand plans for
it and going through my own share of poignant moments, and despite leaving
pieces of my heart at certain stages to certain people, there should be enough
room for my heart to stay alive.
I
recall that time of life, when I developed interest in playing squash, I got a
great kick out of it, even though I never won a single game, and every day
after facing defeat, the next day I would tell myself, “C’mon man, at-least win
a game” and again face defeat, so my life in the past two and a half years is
on the same lines, I face defeat on every level, the next day I get up and tell
myself “C’mon man, at-least win this one”. In due time, I might get my win, till
then persistence is the key.
So,
it is befitting to say that I am left with two options, to remain in this
constant absent-minded overthinking phase, and let what should be the most
defining years of my life pass by me, and let it make me toxic at some point
ahead (the symptoms are already there), or I should just get the fuck out of
this confused indecipherable phase without any drama, and attempt. Just put up
a more honest fight to reach that place where I have been dreaming to see
myself. At-least I am willing to put up a fight, and as Gulzar Saab has written
in one of his recent songs “दिल पत्थर हो जाएगा,
या पत्थर का दिल धड़केगा”
One
of the most influential books in my life is “The Zahir” written by Paulo Coelho, and at some point, in the book,
it is mentioned “It's not my story
anymore: whenever I speak about the past now, I feel as if I were talking about
something that has nothing to do with me. All that remains in the present are
the voice, the presence, and the importance of fulfilling my mission. I don't
regret difficulties I experienced; I think they helped me to become the person
I am today, I feel the way a warrior must feel after years of training; he
doesn't remember the details of everything he learned, but he knows how to
strike when the time is right.”
I
am deeply flawed, but I am also learning to love myself,
With
Love,
Mandeep
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