Just when everyone thought the Monsoon ended, the skies played a prank on us. So I’ve been cooped up at home trying to fight the gloom with yoga and my laptop. There are multiple strands of my reality that I am trying to stitch simultaneously. But, really what I am doing now is just waiting. Plain and simple.
I may like to call it a hundred different things, and I do try to define it differently every time someone asks. I suppose this is how it will be for a while. I have been closely watching myself like a subject, tracking my behaviour with a notebook and every single thought as a data point. The reduction of medicines hasn’t caused any significant change except making me wonder if it’s making a difference.
I am waiting on every front of my life, no kidding. I am waiting for results, a job, for replies, for friends, for family, for love, everything one can possibly wait for in one lifetime. I’ve therefore thrown myself into working on myself. I have begun listening to my thoughts instead of drowning them out. Before I didn’t have the time, now I do. There have been so many things I have been trying to tell myself which I have either ignored or just tuned out.
Maybe I thought that was healthy, now I realise it just piled up like dirty laundry in my head. Well, this pile is not weeks or months old, its years old, I am not proud of it but I admit I am impressed. I am also trying to clear my head out for everything I have to face in my life moving ahead, and I am certain I will not get this time back and some day ten years later I will kick myself for not being more proactive. I’ve at least gained this much sense from experience.
What doesn’t help is the fact that everybody else is also watching me, trying to deduce if I am okay or not. Yesterday, when I exclaimed at something that happened in a k-drama I was watching, my mother asked me worried if I had taken my meds and I was alright. It’s little things like this that remind me, I am on their radar.
I began reading the books I ordered, you know humour, slice of life, fiction, romance and for some reason all the stories whether I watch them or read them are somehow getting linked in my head to my own life leaving me with more questions about myself. It took me back to when I was a teenager deciding what to do for the rest of my life and searching for the answers in stories. This is so refreshing, it’s been so long since I did this.
Sometimes, I don’t know what I am waiting for. It’s because, there’s only so much I can wait for in one single moment. By the time I am done deciding and picking something to wait for, the moment passes and I am left wondering once more. It’s not as if I don’t have things to do while I wait, but nothing is that important anymore that it can take the edge off of waiting.
This kind of self-awareness feels so powerful right now. But it’s also scary, because it gives me tunnel vision. I read the news with no feeling, the lack of passion is unfamiliar. I think it’s also because there’s so much happening in the world which collides with my personal life. Often I ask, why only a few people talk about things? Why we hear only a few voices or see a few faces which become the face or voice of a movement, or an event. Especially after Greta Thunberg’s speech I wondered about this.
Now, I don’t think it’s because the rest of us are not involved, it’s because every now and then survival and the greater good don’t always go together. They do in the long run but only a few people can choose one between the two, survival or the greater good. The rest of us are either too scared to choose or don’t want to. I always walked in the middle, and stood by that, and was heavily criticised for it, I still am. Yet, there’s a part of me that believes that this is the better route to walk on. That part of me always seems to win.
Lately, everything became secondary to me. Like everyone I too need a break from the world. When I said I am going to start reading fiction, start doing things I want to, this is what I meant. To gather a better perspective, to walk silently until it’s time to speak. I have losses I haven’t yet mourned, pain I haven’t yet released, and anger still pent up inside me. This has weighed me down so far. I saw Greta Thunberg’s speech, and I realised what was missing from my well-read opinion and middle ground stance was passion.
I’ve spent so much working on being politically correct, I lost my viewpoint, I see this in my generation. We’re trying to stand up for what’s right, without asking ourselves about our own biases. That’s the internal conflict, I began studying journalism to become a better journalist, what I got was a fundamental question, who is a journalist? It was the same when I studied History, we were told to question everything.
Now as I wait, with all these existential questions, I am trying to search for the answers in the stuff I did not read in so long, the stuff I didn’t watch because I was convinced that it would lead me astray from the real problems. Since I have time, this doesn’t sound like a waste of time.
I am searching for jobs, doing what everyone expects of me, but I am also learning to take care of me on my own. So I am going to start on a blank slate as I wait, I am going to set what I already know to the side. That’s not going anywhere, so why not? When I look back, I began with a drive to do what I love, only thinking about my self-interest, over time it grew into doing something for everybody else, fuelled by everything that went wrong, corrupted by multiple opinions.
There was a time I thought I was essential to my future, recently I have felt unimportant to my own existence. This was mostly because I put everything else before me and told myself to wait, not giving my thoughts or feelings any attention, and now I have got this opportunity to give myself that chance and wait for everything else to happen. Hence, I want to find that hope once more, that view that I too belong in my own future because I have something to offer. This time I want to believe it too.