July 25, 2010

There's a curious sort of sadness in the air today. As if the everything around me is mourning the death of a boy I barely knew. I don't know why I've been thinking about him over and over. Maybe, because if you flipped the sides of the building around, this could have been me. His apartment is exactly where mine is, on the other side of the building. Maybe, because he was round-about the same age. Maybe because he lived all alone, and he had to be taken by strangers to a hospital. Because his friends found out and got there much later, his parents even later than that. And yesterday afternoon, he was dead. And I keep thinking, a little twist of fate, and it could have been me. And I wonder, why wasn't it? Why am I still alive when so many around me are not? Is it some curious quirk of fate? Who am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to do? Why am I here right now? At the end of this journey where am I supposed to be? They say that death is the only definite reality. What I want to know is, what is this life all about? This slow, inevitable wait for death? What does it all mean? Or maybe that is the big joke: life is absurd. And in its absurdity, you begin to think there 'must' be something more to all of this. And the truth is, there really isn't. You live. You die. Kahani-Khatam.

I've been invited by a bunch of kids to speak at some sort of university-student leadership conference. And while I'm honored, the irony of the situation does not escape me: how do you expect someone so-very-lost to guide others?

I attended a leadership conference in NY where the speaker advocated that you 'fake-it-till-you-make-it'. She showed us a little rubber-ducky and told us to look at ducks when they float in the water. They glide around serenely making barely a ripple in the water, but all the while under the surface their little feet are paddling like mad in order to keep them afloat. If you looked at them from down below, all you'd see is chaotic movement. From up top, you see effortless grace. The idea is, that like the duck you glide on the surface even though you may be feeling like a complete and utter mess on the inside. I think NY-speaker-lady would be proud of how much I've assimilated to a duck aaj kal, but I'm afraid there is nothing effortless about this grace, and my biggest fear is there there may never be.

4 comments:

Lonely Perverted Soul said...

I kinda feel the same way as you...

Anonymous said...

on being lost:

"The world is blue at its edges and in its depths. This is the light that got lost..the blue of the land that seems to be dissolving into the sky, is a deeper, dreamier, melancholy blue, the blue at the farthest reaches of the places where you see for miles, the blue of distance. This light that does not reach us, does not travel the whole distance, the light that gets lost, gives us the beauty of the world, so much of which is the colour blue."
--Rebecca Solnit.

Ali said...

Yesterday, i witnessed death in front of me. It was horrifying. The guy was taking picutres when he slipped of the bridge at Saif-ul-Muluk and he died right then and there...

laurenne said...

I LOVE the honesty of your blog. Thanks for saying something. You're my new favorite in my reader.