It has happened and more than once, that something pursued so religiously has evaded me for such a long time. A certain notion about peace of mind is not a novel act, in a legion where there is scarcely time enough to collect the pieces of the torn, distraught mind. Happens to me, happens to a lot many. Life might be technicolour, but then the set of hues in it are limited. Everyone has a palette with a different mix, sometimes hugely unique, and not so much the other times. Every Prince and every Pauper is in this search. Search for the answers. Nothing can be more tormenting than not being able to define oneself. One has often heard in his own head or on the lips of others unfinished queries like, Why?? Who...? What is the meaning of..???
Life is a bitch, they say. For sure. But then, pet it well, and it might just become a most faithful accomplish. Cutting the crap I come to myself. The world is an enormous place and I am the best case study possible for me. Lately, it felt like something was stuck inside, wanted to come out and could not find a way. Something very earthy and material. It actually was so. Baggage is what I call it. A variety of it. Physical, emotional, material…it was all inside me. Still is probably, but in lesser quantities. In a long time I feel my shoulders ease and relax. The work pressure at this place is unbelievable and the funny thing is my Dean is just so proud of the fact. It has been more than a year of blind running, a frenzy of exams that don’t matter, meaningless socializing and fake bonds. One has to work through all this and make the best out of what is in one's hands. All chords to my home were snapped (or nearly so), a long time back. The obnoxious obligatory phone calls and distant caring smothered whatever was left. I heard people around talking, craving, longing for home, jumping at the thought of going there. It filled me with certain emptiness. Home is where the heart is, and my heart was lost in this maze of dull, stagnant system. Couldn’t see a way. Being on my own was the only option. I chose not to complain.
You may not complain, but you cannot ignore. The call of the inner self beckons everyone. Trapped in the rat race, enjoying it and even winning, there comes a time when you begin to differentiate between the worthy and the rest. I do not abide by any set school of thought. Each one to his own philosophy. What matters is what matters at the end of the day.
Last night was my tryst with the self. Someone had recommended a film, as a must watch, so forcefully that I had been scared to watch it lest I shouldn’t find it equally engaging. I shouldn’t have lost time. However, I think I watched it at the right time. Into the Wild is a two odd year old film and though I have the soundtrack by heart, I never took the trouble to watch it. Anyways, enough of background business. The film was a reality check. It spoke measures about the quest for truth. Like everything else, truth too is hidden somewhere, but somewhere within one’s self. We leap from continent to continent, change jobs, change people around, and restructure lives just to reach it. It is a common quest though everyone coins a different term for it. For me it is a state of being where my mind and body are in harmony, where I am healthy and happy, where the needs stop being a concern (which can either be when I am satiated or when I do not feel the need to be so). Alexander Super-tramp had a way. He walked on the path that completed him, that fulfilled his soul’s craving. A lot of things went into making him think the way he did. His childhood and his background made him what he was. This along with his sense of identity or the need of it. His graduation research topics, his taste in literature speak volumes about the person he was. A kindred soul with generosity as his wealth and ultimate freedom as his mission. That was his truth. His is a tale of adventure, of myriad happenings and umpteen realizations. His life was his choice. He had spent a considerable part of himself and his time to fuel his parents’ ambitions. He did not believe in them, he did not believe in the society they represented or the codes they upheld. It is a natural thing to happen. When you see your parents obsessing about certain things and a common rationality in you questions it, it whips up a storm of radical thoughts and a streak of unspoken rebellion. The same happened to me with my parents’ religious bent. Their view that ours was the supreme religious path, most rational, most scientific while the others were pagons with medieval belief system made me uneasy. Day after day the same grinding oppressed me so much that I began shunning everything related to God and religion. Till this day I abhor the idea of connecting myself with any religion in particular. I respect all and take the best from each one. Like every other thing religion too tainted itself at the hands of man. I am better away from it.
Having watched this film and having felt it all the way, I was in real danger of thinking like the character. However, the beauty lay in being otherwise. It only made me realize that everybody has a different truth. I am neither Christopher McCandless nor Alexander. I will not forsake my people and refuse repeated chances of good friendships for Alaskan woods. My identity is varied and my path to truth is different…my ‘Magic Bus’ stands somewhere else. It’s been 24 hours and nothing has been able to disturb me even remotely…maybe life is a good bitch after all.
