Life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans.
I didn’t know until yesterday that it was John Lennon who wrote that. Yesterday, I found it on a book cover and the same day on a website, and today it was mentioned in a movie. It can’t be more true and ironic (not because a “legendary-hippie” wrote that). Life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans. You can’t blame it and you can’t completely accept it. Part of it happens with no resemble to the other part which you are so desperately trying to give a shape. Your decisions are half your chances and labored indifference gets you through almost everything.
Now as if that wasn’t enough, most of us (at least I am sure of me), don’t know what we want to do with our lives. And lately I have been so bad that I can’t even pretend to imagine what I really want to do. It’s painful. It’s painful not because I don’t know what to do, but more because I ain’t anywhere near to begin my search for what is it that I want to do. What is it that will set me free for once and forever.
I think, as a kid I was more of a person than I am right now. Well, actually that’s true for all us. But when I started out understanding this world, through books, people, music and movies, and a little of traveling, the more I knew the more I understood that though all this is essential, nothing is as important as having a clear mind and a serene peace which is untouched by absolutely anything around. But I also realized that I will be denied these two things. I knew in my deepest fear that I would have to lose both of them in order to wander and cope up with the world around. Today I am so lost that most of the times I even forget the purpose with which I started out this journey to nowhere from nowhere.
I know you will find it weird and me crazy. But today when I saw this movie, Frankenstein, which is a classic fiction about this scientist who in order to defy nature and push the boundaries of science puts life back into a dead body and manufactures a creature, who because he is denied of emotions and love turns into a monster killing innocent people to get back to his creator. I felt like I am that monster which I, myself created long back. The only difference was that it was less because of curiosity and more because of fear and to get away.
Honestly, today I don’t like myself. Which was fine, I have hated myself before too. But back then I use to smile about it as I was sure of the flight of my imagination and the innocence of my thoughts which always elevated me. Now I can barely walk trying to imagine something beautiful. My thoughts have become pieces of a puzzle that a lazy kid never wants to put together and so the picture is always incomplete.
Guess I have succeeded. I have lost myself and everything that I believed in. Actually I have gone way ahead of that. There is no hope in me but a faint breeze from the past.
I don’t know what lies ahead. Will I go down deeper this way or maybe I will stumble on something and the world around me will change. No I am not hoping for a miracle or waiting for things to happen. I am looking for something as small as;
‘A cold night
And it’s raining outside.
I am standing at the window
With a cup of coffee,
And beautiful thought in my mind, which will keep me warm and up all night.’
Do you really think that’s too much to ask for?
