For a major portion of my life, I have found the world a
regular and sensible place. This state of mind has, since childhood, provided a
sense of meaning to my own existence and a sense of identity to everything
around me. I have, inadvertently and involuntarily, felt ‘accustomed’ to the
status quo. Everything I have experienced, thought, and done has added up to an
eloquently usual picture. And since there was no aberration or bizarreness, such a picture of the world has always appeared to me so elegant, so beautiful
and so majestic.
But in the last few years, the world has started to look
an unusual place to me. In a state of confusion and bewilderment, I have made a
naïve attempt to dissect things into more fundamental level just as a kid makes
an attempt to dismantle a toy he is puzzled by. I thought that I could make
sense of the toy by understanding its constituents, its inner parts. But
ironical as it may seem, things turned out exactly the opposite. Before I could
have realized, I had ventured into a brave new world where most of the things were,
at best, absurd and, at worst, meaningless. As I painfully figured out to my surprise
and shock, my own endeavors had shaken the very foundations of my world. I
realized that all my life was a lie and even my thoughts had betrayed me so far.
What was earlier an axiomatic truth, a usual course of event, and an absolute
order- was now something else entirely. I realized that I was just a pawn in
the bigger scheme. I found my conclusions wrong not because I concluded wrongly
but because the assumptions behind those conclusions were, in the first place,
fallacious. The deep-seated beliefs, the long-held observations, the
indoctrinated thoughts had left my side when I needed them most to put sense to
my world. Like a lone wanderer gets lost in an unknown desert, I had gotten
lost in the desert of what we fondly call reality. Or probably, I was just
coming to senses that I was lost.
In these dark times I saw my theories change, ideologies
mutate, and view-points modify. The thoughts of the old times … well …became
thoughts of the old times. The ‘person’ in me changed forever. And climactically,
this metamorphosis was not such a pleasant experience as I thought it would be.
The normal world was beautiful while the new unusual world had no concept like
beauty. The old values were full of charm, optimism and hope; the new values
were devoid of any such thing. The old perspective had the bliss of ignorance,
it had ways to deal with the fundamental questions; the new perspective had the
curse of wisdom which was all too murky inside its boundary and which simply
denied any explanation to the deeper questions with sheer nonchalance. The old
life was an exciting, enthusiastic existence; the new one a mere mindless, relentless
game. But for me, the greatness of the old had given way to the mundaneness of
the new. In a short span of time, I had taken an irreversible, and detrimental,
leap of shift from elegance to inelegance, grandness to ordinariness, and excitement
to boredom. And there was no coming back to the old world because although it
was persistently beautiful, it was still an illusion, a hypnosis.
And it is perhaps the value of ‘truth’ which singlehandedly
outclasses the virtues of the old world. The pain of being wiser is not as
hurtful as the pain of being under deception of the greater scheme. Even though
I have not lived long, I seem to have seen enough of the commonsense feelings
and the mainstream reality. Grown weary of this "fake sense of the sensible", I place the highest
value on truth and, truth alone. This blog is simply a testimony to this
feeling and this feeling is solely mine. And at no cost should such feelings be forgotten or lost because if they are lost, so would I be.
Therefore, I write this blog to remind me in future that when I finish
off my duel with evolution, when I meet life beyond the borders of right or
wrong, when I chase away the darkness of a subjective, ego-centric human life
and when I have nothing to care about in this whole world except the
profoundest reason and abyssal mystery, I, my true self, would have to set out
on a journey which is so ironical in nature that it may lead me nowhere or
perhaps everywhere, that it may be utterly meaningless or perhaps full of
meaning or, that it may be very important or perhaps very futile. Last
it may for a fleeting second, such a journey, such an experience of the unattainable,
such a moment of true romance would be more fulfilling than a lifetime spent in
the awe of the old world and in the glitter of an illusive existence.
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