I sometimes wonder why we are so different as individuals, with the human population running into billions, you’d expect stumbling upon people similar to you at every step, but it rarely is the case. Why can’t we appreciate the differences and just acknowledge that others are bound to be different and are just as important or equally inconsequential in the larger scheme of things. We are after all a small cog in the wheel of this massive unexplored universe, where we are mere nothings but specks of dust. We all turn into dust at some point anyway when life ceases to run through our veins and even our memories turn to dust, eventually. Forgotten and erased. What we think we feel so deeply and greatly at this present moment becomes a distant memory and no matter how hard you try, the passion you feel refuses to ignite when time has already closed all the spaces that were once filled with an urgency impossible to fathom. You grow older and perhaps wiser, if you are the kind that actively engages in the act of thinking. Having lived 29 years on Planet Earth already, and experienced a miraculous shift in fortune in the last 10 years, I feel grateful for many things that came my way. I never expected these good things but they happened. As an onlooker and a pessimist, I always felt good things happened to other people and never to someone who had the misfortune of being born in the wrong place and certainly the wrong time. I was surrounded by the worst of people and had to hide under beds to protect myself from hands that were ready to grope and abuse. The hiding spots changed daily and life seemed bleak. Moving to Delhi was the first good thing I did in my life.
My life changes after I turned 20 eased the lives of those closest to me to a certain extent and for that I am grateful. I feel to this day, except for my dad, others never acknowledged the sacrifices I made or the things that I found myself constantly engaged with for the happiness of others. He was the only human who saw what I was all about and acknowledged that I meant something. With him gone, life seemed pointless. There are times when the pointlessness of human life hits me and takes me by surprise when I’m least prepared for such thoughts. Again, I think about dad and run the conversations we had over and over in my head and regain balance. The thoughts leave me alone and I’m left with a route map of all the things I’m supposed to be doing in the next couple of years.
2016 has been the worst year in the recent past because I lost my dad, and I had to kiss his dead body goodbye as that was all that was left of him when I reached home around noon, on June 17th. I had thought of that moment as something that would make me lose my mind or have other devastating mental consequences. But I was surprised by my own strength. My family was shattered and my mom was losing her mind and someone had to take control of the situation. I always was good at being the strong one, so throughout the funeral I played my part to perfection and despite wanting to kill myself, I endured. My mom’s health and happiness mattered more than ever. My family found strength and comfort in my strength and confidence. Being responsible can make you feel drained but as humans we adapt. We get used to whatever shit life throws our way.