You know what?

Maybe some of us are not meant to be the leaders. Maybe we just exist to follow, and why not? Leaders need that. Maybe some of us are not supposed to have those “great and immortal” dreams. Maybe some of us are indeed ordinary and we will die ordinary. Maybe some of us are not even supposed to whine about all this but that’s what we will do forever throughout our lives. And that’s the saddest part. Maybe, if the gods are kind, we will realize this at a right time and accept life for how it is. Maybe we will march towards a happy ending even with all the insipidity.  Or maybe we will never be this optimistic, maybe fate will drag us through the most beautiful of cities and we won’t appreciate it, because that’s not what we ever wanted. Maybe we hoped for ruins and war sites, maybe we hoped for barren lands and burning forests and what a shame we would never get to see them. We yearned for stories people can gasp at. We yearned for photographs that were taken from the oddest angles. Fate wouldn’t understand our dull-wittedness of course. But maybe, that’s how it was meant to be always and we, being the nincompoops we are, will never get that. Maybe some of us are happy but we just don’t realize it. Maybe it’s not even that complicated! If you are breathing then you are living! Maybe it is as simple as that! So, why does it never dawn on us that some of us just waste too much of our precious time comparing and weaving up the possibilities that are not even as shiny as our eyes believe them to be? Why do we throw away our entire lives waiting for things to happen that would actually never happen? Why do we need to expect amazement in that same monotonous hollywoodized narrow minded way? Can we not come up with our own definitions? Can we not, for once in our lives, afford to be original? Will we never realize that we star in this movie, that we are the heroes, that we are the ones our lives are all about? How so ordinary and wasted and hammered and stumped, we might seem, our lives will always be about us! We can’t change the protagonists. We are the protagonists. There are no substitutes! But we wouldn’t get it, would we? We will mistake our velleities for dreams and doom ourselves right there. Why do we have to categorize things into supposed to be and not supposed to be? Why picture the greatness?  Why attach selfishness to everything we ever love? Why draw money out of it? Why commercialize? Maybe there are people who can pull happiness out of that but maybe you are not among those people. Why be a zabardasti ka rebel? You don’t even want to be one! Why go against the clichéd advices when you know they are the ones that are most suitable for you? Why bring unnecessary pain? Why expect so much that you drive yourself mad with sorrow? Maybe you don’t deserve it? The best parts, the worst parts? Both of it! Maybe you simply just don’t deserve it! And if that’s the case, why can’t we live with it?

So, you might interject, that maybe this whole line of thought is just a cowardice approach. You might interject that this is just one of those bad days and things will be alright tomorrow. Well, you are right. I know what you mean. There are good days. And there are bad days. And those are regular normal days. And then there are horrible days, so horrible that you are not even able to figure out the reason why. And there is no reason when you think about it – Just the sudden outburst of hopelessness. Like a dementor’s kiss sucking happiness out of you. And you can’t cast a patronus, so yeah, you are doomed. In these numb moments when you can’t even feel pain, when you can’t shake off the thought of killing yourself from your head, when you are nothing but just a moving sac of disappointments, when you are whining and you are ridiculously rebuking yourself to stop, when you are so lost and everything seems such a waste, when all the glitter and blizz is a horrible head ache, in these precious moments, what do you do? Nothing. I know those days. They come and go, fleeting moments!  So, yes, you are right – this too shall pass. You probably sense and feel my temporary agony. But then, I don’t need your sympathy today. Do you think that I am giving up the shelters of metaphors and deceptive literary devices just so that I could make a song out of your ‘there-theres’? No, I don’t.

Today is a bad day but I am not here to just ramble and complain. I am here to make peace. I am here to be honest. I don’t want to hide anymore. And I don’t want to seek. I want to accept and not expect. And mostly, I don’t want to care. I don’t want to care about what I am and who I am, about what I can and cannot do, about what I should and should not do, about what’s right and what’s wrong, about what I do and what I might end up doing. And I want to believe that with the first ever ridiculous poem  that I sang in front of my class, with my first entry of that small journal with a lock, I wrote my fate right there, without ever realizing it that I am no one, that I am everyone,  and really? At heart?  Just a writer in the cubicle. Just a purposeless stupid writer in the cubicle. And you know what; I just want to learn to live with it. Period.