“Who is singing this song? I am,” this line from a poem, has always intrigued me. The poet talks about human life, racism and of struggles a woman goes through in life- when the sun doesn’t feel warm enough, cold icy wind takes time to penetrate through your skin and when the brightest flowers seem colorless.
Through some of the skin flaying experiences of my life so far, I have learnt a lesson; no matter how crowded you are with friend, at the end of the day you stand alone. Alone! For you to catch the bull by its horns, look him in the eye and say, “I will get through this.”
Call it the “Mid-Life Crisis,” or by any other name but sometimes, having everything in the right place with the best job and best of friends around you, doesn’t suffice the heart dousing feeling inside you.
A few days back, one of my friends and I helped a drunken guy, who had slept in his car with doors open in the middle of the night.
At first we were not sure about checking on him. We sat there, arguing about whether we should help him or would it back fire and have us in trouble. Finally we decided to help him and made sure he was safe.
Later looking back at the incident I realized that it was not about helping him but the doubt that crossed our minds.
And not very long ago people would easily lend you a helping hand. Today if you don’t know the person, it a simple alarm for ‘stranger danger.’
Everything is changing before your eyes and you can’t help but sail with it. Change is the word everyone is terrified with, whether it is for good or bad. Politicians are scared of changes that young might bring, parents are scared of changes that come along with their children’s age, lovers scared of a change in their relationships and so on.
But we must accept life and carry on. In a comic book called Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson, the protagonist shades light on, why we have just five years of childhood. The Five years is to practically do anything and then carry on with the misery of school and adult life in accordance with the society.
Then, you call your life yours but you live it for others. You live it with the spell of impressing others, out doing things and pushing that extra mile. And by the time you realize this, you are on the death bed. The book of accounts on your life has most of its pages filled with chapters like my children, my partner, my family, my friends and my job.
The “I” would be left as an alphabet you wouldn’t find.
Sometimes people say I am too much of an “I” person. I agree to it because it in no way describes me as a selfish person. It is just another way of expression because at the end of the day when I bid farewell it’s just “I” and no one else.
