Musings

I have a poor eye for art. I don't see vast depths on canvasses that people with more eclectic tastes (whatever that means) call 'modern art'. I find myself unable to be moved by exquisite artworks and over the past few years, after most of my friends bought their long cherished DSLRs, I resolved never to honestly remark on any of their work, more so when explicitly asked to. Essentially, I have never been a creative person and cannot tell whether it is an acquired or an inherited trait.

You may say that I write but come to think it's merely an expression of a few related thoughts in the one language that I have managed to understand over 2 decades. Music, movies and books are the only real exceptions where (I think) I enjoy certain tastes and genres which give me a sense of what a human connection to a work of art might feel like. It is with these thoughts and in this light that I must begin today.

Most of my friends were impressed by Tamashaa. And by 'impressed' I mean so much in awe that they either strongly recommended it to unsuspecting users across all social networks or went on to be deeply hungover on it. Some even had a major revelation or an epiphany of sorts (I still tend to have those in exam halls instead of cinema halls). Unsurprisingly, none of that happened with me, although about half way into the movie, I could make fair sense of what the director had intended to get across. In that sense, I must admit it was much unlike a regular Bollywood money spinner and worth some after thought, albeit one that landed the fruit of these thoughts a little too far from the tree.

As one among millions pursuing the infamous 'B. Tech. + MBA' career combo today, I consider myself a self anointed ambassador of the ordinary here. It wasn't always so, though. I spent a large part of my formative years with the belief that I was destined for 'big things'. This belief- far from delusional arrogance- was driven largely by a restricted world view and the kind of innocent optimism that stems from adolescence, and in part by circumstance and causality. It was a time I was far more curious than cautious, confident than circumspect and ambitious than realistic. It took just five words, for the second and last time in my life, to change that forever- 'You have not qualified JEE'.

Perhaps I wasn't motivated enough. Perhaps I didn't slog all that hard. Perhaps my world view wasn't as broad as it should have been. OR perhaps I just wasn't smart enough. As it is with science- the simplest explanation is often the correct one. And just as it is with life- the truth sets you free but first it pisses you off.

The truth was that I was no different from countless other teenagers who were nurturing the same dream, sweating, bleeding and bruising themselves on the way in much the same manner as I did, some perhaps a lot more. The truth was thousands of them were smarter, sharper and more resilient than I ever was. It took some time but denial, anger, depression, bargain gave way to acceptance as I realised why life goals are often called dreams.

It is surprising how convenient it is to believe we deserve so much more than we get. And it is amusing how this realisation can be a constant reminder through life, perpetually distorting the present and all this while knitting a past that will always be looked back upon with far more regret than rejoice. The truth is, for every one of us who 'makes his dream come true', statistically, there'd be hundreds of us who won't. In that sense then, does it mean the rest of us failed?

Growing up, it always seemed that success stories were abundant and all around. That it was necessary to succeed at whatever it is that was deemed worth succeeding at by the people who surrounded you. That failure was an unworthy (at times unfortunate) exception. You had to do it once and you got to be the best or you might as well not do it altogether. Life, it seemed, was binary- discreetly switching between two extremes with absolutely nothing separating the vast chasm between success and failure.

The truth is, most of us thrive somewhere between the enormous spectrum stretched between Ved and Rancho now immortalised by the celluloid. We are substantially good at a few things that fascinate us but lack that roaring passion to stand out in any one of them. This sense of ordinariness may strike hard against our time honed habit of self appeasement but that does not drive it one bit away from reality. There are those who do stand apart and we read/hear of them all the time but that should come with that same sense of acceptance I mentioned above. Sadly, it is scarcely so.

"Har sapne ki ek keemat hoti hai"- every dream comes at a price. I found it to be truer than most things I heard or read. That price may be time, comfort, fun, health, family, sleep, money, friendship, youth, love, morals or a whole range of other things. Naturally, not everyone is willing to accept or play by such a rude set of terms. A good friend once told me this when I was as confused about life's purpose as I might be coming across right now. That's only because I still am- finding my way through that enormous chasm no one ever told me existed, much less how to navigate. Perhaps that's life in itself.

No, this is not an emotional reaction to a disappointment or a heartbreak. Nor do I intend to say that it is childish or futile to have passions or dreams- there's nothing more lively than that. However, it will always be easier and enormously more convinient to raise your hands in the classroom and say you want to become someone, than to make the necessary sacrifices (I choose the word with great caution here) in order to make that happen. And it is pertinent to make truce with the alternate reality that sometimes, just sometimes, it might still not add up.

There is no fate but what we make and there's no point trying to convince ourselves otherwise. The argument of 'fate and destiny' is just another manifestation of that deluding sense of self appeasement. We may all be heroes of our own stories but unlike the inspiring school teacher, life doesn't owe us an explanation. Most of it isn't fair or unfair, it's just what it is. 'The Rolling Stones' quite appropriately sang-

"You can't always get what you want,

But if you try sometime,

You just might find-

You get what you need."