Musings

There was a time when people used to come up to me and tell me what’s on their mind by themselves. They knew they could trust in me, and the fact that I did not interact with a lot of people ensured them that their secrets were safe. Maybe it gave them a release, a kind of happy feeling that one gets only after letting their thoughts out. The fact that I empathised with their issues and problems also made it interesting for me- and so it was a good workmanship kind of relation.

Cut to several years later- and the circle of people who talk to you has in itself diminished. People no longer know you at all, let alone come over and tell you their problems. You still empathise with the few who do, but slowly you’ve come to realise that it is not like how it was before. Maybe it is case specific and people specific- that a person has limited time and so has to choose his battles wisely. But still over a period of time, you come to realize that you don’t care about most of the things that immensely mattered to you at some point of time. Some will say it is part of life and growing up- but that’s a stupid’s answer.

You try really hard to get into conversations with the people around you or with the discussions in general, but somehow realize that there is nothing in that topic for you at all and that no matter how hard you try to connect with the person, it just doesn’t seem to happen anymore. What others call problems are things you don’t even think of, some cricketer’s wedding, movie gossip, people trivia, who said what to whom, why so and so person is wrong based on whatsapp forwards- it’s just painful discussion.
Here your sitting and wondering how to make out more time from your tight schedule to do more things that you enjoy- read, write, draw, have good discussions, forge strong bonds, make travel plans and do something out of the ordinary- and then there’s all this in your surroundings? Is it just me or do all people at all times feel they are surrounded by the wrong set of people????
Somewhere down the line- you begin to wonder why these things don’t matter to you anymore. Is it travelling? Reading? Just aloofness- that happens with age? You never really know, and you can never really be sure about it.
How do you keep yourself driven amidst all this? To continue studying and reading and writing and drawing and travelling and talking to friends and having meaningful discussions while for some reason everyone around you seems to be doing otherwise.
How do you control yourself from screaming or despising other people when they are wasteful of their food, water, clothes, money- things that others can only dream of? How do you keep calm and move on with your life when every time you calm yourself down and sit down to do something productive- one of these instances starts replaying in your head and that’s the end of it- you’re back at being furious. Slowly you start to become an aggressive person as well, the smiles begin to become like the cycles of the moon, conversations and everyday activities seem to dull, the number of people who care dry up. Is this how slowly but surely people reach 35 and realize they are not in a job they enjoy or around people who care anymore?
Is it you who’s at fault or everyone around you? For sure, you can’t be the villain in your own story. I mean, what could be wrong in wanting to make the most of the time that you have so that you don’t have to regret later. Perhaps not everyone else thinks that way. But how do you get your mind to get this and move on?
It’s a draining process. You wish you could cut down on all this and choose the battles that matter to you and go on with it.
But you can only wish.

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