Sometimes, every written piece of text that begins with a ‘sometimes’ is not meant to catch your attention. It could just be the rant of a helpless mind, because there is simply no other means to make oneself feel better than to pen it down. Yes, we are all very wise and we have had tons of experience despite the number of candles on our birthday cakes. It’s still hard to explain to those who have become more wise than us that their experiences cannot be any more important than ours, only because they have more number of yesterdays to recall than we do. This is not a ‘hate rant’ against experience, I’d rather be more honest by calling this a rebellion for acknowledgement.
While generations and the gap between them- collide and corrode, much like the tectonic plates beneath earth’s surface, we can only hope that all the disapproval and denial for newer ways of doing things is coming from a place of care and concern. That all the differences in opinions exist because the preceding generation cannot stand to see its successors make the same mistake that they have already made. Even if all this makes no sense to you, I can assure most of you that it’s going to stay this way forever. We, as parents or uncles and aunts, or simply as old seniors will function the same way like we have known our seniors and elders. Expressing in ways that are more modern today, and will indefinitely become more traditional or conservative by the time our hair greys.
Because that irritable relative who you can’t relate with was 14 someday, and dreamt just like you and me to be infinite and limitless, probably in a different way. Hence, this could be a good way to accept the only truth, the truth of change, which we are a part of and are contributing continually towards. Because the glass is better half full than half empty, right?
If I don’t want to do something that I do not like, and want to pursue my passionate dream instead, I also cannot complain about being put through uncomfortable situations. I can totally feel free to be an irresponsible vagabond, but then I cannot hope to receive help from friends and family because I can’t afford taking care of myself. I deserve to be inspired by the silence of desolate mountains and wake up to floods of sunlight where skies meet the sea, but not without missing how wonderful the Mushroom Risotto at Delhi’s Big Chill is, so that I can value it when I’m here, and fondly remember this when I’m there.
I want sacrifice, forgiveness and maturity to find me when they do. Because I sure do know them well, as I have been sacrificed, forgiven and exposed to maturity on several occasions. But may be my time hasn’t come yet. And when it does, I want to be found by them because they have been looking for me. For now, I want to chase butterflies in the sunshine forest of her beautiful, long hair. I want to spend weekdays writing tremendously beautiful articles that people wouldn’t even know about, and travel in timely metros by the weekend to be around her on Sundays. It’s truly not too much to ask for. May be it is. I’ll never know, I guess.
All I can surely say is that- I have all the right to feel fearless, but only with the courage to not be afraid.
-ME
August 13, 2018
