I mean.. if there is light at the end of the tunnel.. its worth stumbling over.. thousand times.. in the dark.. even if we die by the time we reach the light.. even if we dont reach the light.. and die trying.. isnt that worth more than living in a dull light.. thats neither here nor there.. a life that doesnt give the feeling of “lived” is not worth living dont u think ?
Having said that.. i dunno.. what i am passionate in life about … once upon a time.. i used to know.. .. or so i think.. but if i have to honest with myself.. i never felt anything that was worth really struggling for..
may be once in blue moon i might be motivated enough.. to prove myself.. but thats not passion.. may be its just a shadow of it.. but really… i make plans.. but i dont get motivated enough to see through it.. I know ppl say.. knwing where u r erring.. is coming half way through.. but thats not true.. not in my case.. for I have always known.. whats lacking.. I call it being “honest” with myself… but for some reason.. i have no interest in changing any thing.. I wish for a change.. like someone wishes for their mother’s food when they are away.. wistfully.. I would never really do anything about it… and hence I cannot even cry that my dreams are broken.. for I never tried to make them come true..
When I am in mood.. I rant and rave about this listlessness.. this “emptiness” I find thousand reasons for it.. but the gist of the matter is.. that Deep down.. I couldnt care less… And this sometimes.. scares me.. this “very passionless” life… and sometimes angers me.. and what angers me more is that I dont do anything about it..
I find excuses.. I find justifications.. but well .. I wish I was passionate about something in life…
Even if it was fora man.. may be my family ? my job ? some cause?.. I cannot stick to anything for long..
Anything that comes remotely close to passion is my need to write.. its a craving alright.. and yet.. I don’t want to be a writer.. for i know for sure.. that my imagination does have a limit.. or may be.. I am not a very imaginative person.. doesnt mean.. i dont have imagination.. just that its not enough…
Though I am reasonably good as a poet.. i still find something lacking there.. there are poems.. which I find so bland that.. well whatever.. whatever lil passion I have .. I spend it on poems.. so some of them.. do touch my heart.. funnily enough.. they come.. when I am at my lowest.. the best ones i mean..
Umm I am not sure what I am trying to say.. I do know.. but in a vague sort of way.. damn!
Some times.. certain thought.. keep running through my mind.. and when i let it be.. it becomes into a beautiful.. poem.. or a may be an occasional story.. those i like.. only they dont come often..
Umm.. I didnt want this to be a “rant”.. but looks like it is one.. No i am not down.. its just that.. well I watched Rock on now.. I was stuck.. by the passion.. these ppl had for music.. the characters ofcourse! I know they compromised it and all… and yet.. it was alive somewhere.. the passion myt sleep.. but it was just there! The same feeling.. I have when I think of people who have convictions…I feel deep rooted respect for anyone who has an ounce of ambition.. simply coz I dont have any..
Once upon a time.. I wanted a normal family… or whatever .. I had a dream of this not so perfect perfect person.. and in a misty kind of way… I will have a fulfilling career.. and kids.. who would never have the complaints.. that I had from life.. and all… where ofcourse i was the backbone of the family.. and yet… nowadays.. I question the need I have of marriage.. I once promised mysef.. I wouldn’t do the same mistakes as my mom.. and yet.. I did something nearly just that!
I no longer feel.. I am capable of being so “giving” as I thought I could be.. and I am not sure.. if I really want to take responsibility of a family..
I once said.. I want to live alone.. with no one to bother about me.. or me bothering about anyone… But again.. if I am to be honest.. I have spent countless evenings waiting for a call.. from home.. knowing that it wont come.. it just didnt fit the budget.. and feeling sick with nostalgia.. so much so that.. I could gag.. and yet.. well I did value the freedom.. but at what cost ?.. the envious looks I hid from everyone.. when someone’s relatives came to visit.. In 4 years of living in hostel.. my sis never did visit me.. not once! no calls either.. other than.. well only once.. and I so wish.. she never had to make that call!
Life certainly has not been easy for me.. but it wasn’t that hard either.. in many ways.. I always found help.. whenever I really needed them.. I guess I am thankful to god for that… Or may be.. its just that my survival instincts are really honed well… And yet.. I wish.. there was something.. I was living for.. even if I failed.. I wish there was a trophy at the end of this rat race.. umm trophy that mattered enough.. to die for….
My secret fear is that.. 20 years down the line.. I shall be saying the same damn thing!
Whoosh! enough rant for today 😀 😀