Ever felt, like the walls of the room you’re sitting in at
your house, strange? The paintings, the color, the fan, the ceiling, everything
to be of someone you are not in direct or indirect relation with? I must
confess I’ve felt like that a lot. I look at my parents, for an instance
they’re close to me, someone whom I care about and the next instant they’re all
just strangers, someone whom I’ve never known.
And that feeling persists for a while and keeps me occupied and thinking
on what truly is my existence? Who am I? What exactly is my identity? Am I
known for my parents or my family or by my achievements, but then I’m
remembered of the ancient saying of Alexander the Great, “Keep my hands open while you put in my grave, that Alexander the
Great, who had conquered almost the entire globe, could take nothing with him.”
Most of you reading this, would be considering me a victim
of some mental illness, but trust me guys, I’m not. And to be honest, I know
that you guys too feel it at times. It’s just that you avoid it at times, and
I’m not able to hence I meet you with my bizarre thoughts here. Anyways,
keeping my story aside, I would request all of you to stop for a moment and
think. What exactly defines you? Your family, your accounts, your job! What exactly
it is?
Dear fellas, it’s none. In the process of eking out a
living, time and now we have forgotten our true identity. Just for an eye
opener, what do you plan for your life? For a normal Indian guy, it would be
getting a good job (by good I mean, good paying job), get married to beautiful
woman who would only love him (and on an honest account, we guys are
conservative). Then have kids, see them grow up. Make them individuals with
moral and stuff, then retire, spend your last days with you better half.
BULLSHIT!!
HOLY CRAP! YOU CALL THIS LIVING??
If you notice in the entire process, one’s focus is only to
feed the giant tummy we all got. There’s no true identity to you, is there?
From a third person’s view I look at my life, damn it! It’s
pathetic. Often now and then, I’m under depression. To search out answers I
tend to yoga and bullshit. They all might just improve me from the instance I’m
in. but in the long run, I’m again going to fall for it. There has to be a way
where I could be happy, eternally.
On thinking further, I realize, maybe I’m not following what
I’m meant to. In the course of making a living, I’ve forgot I’m not living. I’m
dead. I’m just a piece of meat working to make money, feed my family! Jesus
Christ! God I need some help.
Stroking my fag, I close my eyes, if I had a gun to my head,
and asked what I would be if I had a second chance, and the true answer will
give you life, the wrong one, a bullet. What would my answer be?
If you have an answer, you exactly know what your true identity
is. If you are ready to give your life to it, I’m head steady that you’ll be
one of the best in that field.
But if you’re like me, with no answer yet, you got to follow
my blog more!
