I don’t know if I have readers yet. There are likes and views, but comments are still a far-away fantasy. I need to work harder and smarter to make my writing resonate with you. But irony thy name is life. I am not writing to impress you. I am writing for myself, for my soul, to quench my thirst. This blog is my only pious and sacred space untouched by outer influences. This is me, pure and naked, sans any masks. This is me laying bare my heart and soul, into the unknown, to the strangers and acquaintances, alike. Why?
Because I feel stifled. By the noise around. By so many viewpoints, opinions and judgements that I don’t know what makes sense to me anymore. I am losing myself to the world. A world that has not made much sense to me ever. I feel lost, like I always do, for as long as I can remember. As a kid, I have felt lost at birthday parties. I have felt lost among friends, among foes, among strangers, among family. I have felt lost in crowd, in loud and authoritative tones, in achievements and failures. I have felt lost at my workplace, at relatives’ homes, at big and small gatherings. In short, I have felt lost at every damn place and situation.
Were there times when it seemed I have found myself? Yes, aplenty. Watching a sunset, the moon, the stars and the beautiful night sky. Walking in a garden among soft, gentle, delicate flowers. In my own company. In silence. Sitting on a terrace watching the vast expanse of life in front of me. Watching a flower bloom, birds chirping in a garden. Reading a good book where characters felt relatable and vulnerable, just like me. Watching a TV show where life was as challenging and rewarding as it is in reality. I have found myself in a warm lovable hug. In the company of hearts that understand me. But Irony thy name is life. In all the situations where I seemed to have found myself, the words always failed. They felt too small to be used. Then why did I choose words to liberate myself? Because that’s the only way I know. Irony thy name is life.
I have never been a great vocalist. I have failed mostly whenever I tried. I am not good with convincing people. I am not authoritative. I will voice my opinion and step back leaving you free to choose your way. I will speak, debate and argue but to a certain point. Afterwards, I will recoil. I will keep myself last in the pedestal. Amidst dissenting voices, I will always take the blame for not being right. I will question my feelings and will always give you the benefit of doubt. I will not try to unearth my inner voice voraciously if I feel the surroundings are hostile. When I am surrounded by too many people who think alike but contrastingly different than me, I will prefer to let them have their way. I will choose peace rather than the burden of explaining myself. I am still learning to stand tall among dissenting voices. Still hurting and learning.
Irony thy name is life. I am writing to share myself with you, adding one more voice to the already prevalent sounds around you. Irony thy name is life. But I am daring to expose my true self. I want to share uninhibited. I don’t want to make it perfect. I want it to be honest. I don’t want to look for the right words to make you understand better. I just want to lay bare. In as simple words as I can. I detest complications. It’s my need but not what you may want.
So listen, if you please, listen! It’s getting rarer, the quality of listening. Irony thy name is life. I don’t want to listen to anyone anymore, but I am asking you to listen. But listen for yourself, and not to listen me. Listen to see if it resonates with you too. Do you feel the same? But why should you? You are not me. But I sometimes do. I feel stifled. Just sometimes, when my soul gets lost amidst the maddening chaos all around.