Consider this – you have mastered the art form that you have been practicing for ages, become the artist you wanted to be. You can now play your song perfectly, draw a flawless portrait, write a phenomenal poem but somewhere deep down you feel empty. Still under the impression that the day is yet to come, you spend your time longing and anticipating the day.
The hardest thing sometimes is learning how to accept. Accepting flaws, insecurities, things that the ‘social system’ deems “unhealthy” takes courage and a lot of inner strength to withhold, and a lot of us lack the proper conditioning that prepares us for a life full of disasters.
Ignorance is bliss and we justify it ever so cunningly, ever so politely. This illusion is a protection and we, bound by our oath to protect whats real, has lead us to this moment. In the deepest of our hearts, the darkest of our corners, we are dying an eternal, slow and painful death.
The world is noisy, and it comes at us in all the accessible sensory forms. It is always lit, there is something going on outside the window, the leaking tap in your washroom, the loud person on the phone, the squeaking fan of your neighbours downstairs, the eternal quarrelling couple upstairs.
My legs shake all the time, sometimes when I am anxious, it turns violent – out of control, but this is how I have always been. I have accepted this part of me; this delusional, disrespectful, devotional dilemma called me.
My uncle shared a picture of a fresh harvest of grapes on his Instagram with people writing about how pretty they looked, asking my uncle to send them some, and other generic, cliched comments. The engagement levels were very organic, felt real and were through… Read More »The ‘unbelongers’