I’ve been a
narcissist most of times and for the other times, I’ve been hasty for myself. I
always try to relate myself with things that never make sense, because I never
do. I’ve been accused of writing stuff only about me, and not other things
around, but the way I see it, I can write about other stuff only when I step
into their shoes and see the world from their eyes. If I hadn’t done that, I’d
have ended just opining about them and not really expressing the true feelings
that I share with them.
For instance,
while I was strolling on the empty service road lanes, I saw many trees standing tall beside
the ruthless highway and I felt like I was one of them. All my friends who were
close to me had been cut off from my sight and taken away to an alien land. The
ones who were left by my side, didn’t speak a word because they were strangers
and they were afraid of sharing their sorrows because whenever they did, they
shed leaves and made themselves more susceptible to extermination. I lived on
the hopes of the authorities who took care of the median plantations who showed
up only during drought, but in the end, I was a tree just waiting to be chopped
off someday for another urban expansion.
It never occurred
to me that travelers on the highway won’t stop by and pluck a fruit out of my
branches. They are speed lovers and love everything to be available to them at
their doorstep and I was no Bonsai in their eyes. Moreover, I was more attracted
by hungry pets and cows who tried to jump hard to reach the fruit and got asphalted
by the speedsters. It seemed like a posed a threat to the domestic life around
and there was a cloud of pessimism hovering on my being. All this said and
done, I came back to being human and said to myself; “Thank God I am not that tree.” I am blessed with friends who are
never silent even if they’ve been teleported a thousand miles away because of
their professions and preferences. Those who’re beside me, they too never
behave like strangers and I love this life.
Another instance
in my life where I was waiting for a bus in the bus terminus, and I felt like my
life was the same. So many destinations that I’ve to reach and so less buses
available to go there. So many commuters hanging from the bus and all of them
want to go to almost same place. The place where I had to go, and buses that took
me there, were very sporadic. People kept telling me that buses will never come
when you want them to come; I need to split my journey and cover the distance. Taking
some other bus which was empty and going to some other place didn’t serve any
purpose either, because I never wanted to go there. Many a times, people asked
me to change my destination because it was too far to reach by the end of day
by any mode of transportation. And most of the times, I ended up taking that
suggestion because I didn’t want to waste my life in travelling all day long. The
people, who suggested me this, are my close relatives and family members. They are
the ones, who care about me and want to see me happy. Making my own mistakes
and taking my own decision has still been my choice and that hasn’t been encroached
at all. As far as I’ve known; I’ve learnt more things by making mistakes and I’ve
come so far by taking my own decisions. Reaching home is not too far anyways. Moreover,
my life is no bus terminus anymore; I’ve turned it into an open air theatre. Anyone
who comes in my life has their role to play and leave anytime they want to. I’ve
lived many other lives apart from my own and there are lots of things that I can
share not being me, but it’s still me in some other world, in some other form.
The world
where I am alone, in the parallel world, I have friends who always keep me
occupied; the world where I am dejected, there’s a parallel world where I party
hard all the time; and all this for what joy? Just to stay alive in some way or
the other and keep myself fruitful for those who need me.
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