A fictitious story of Metaphors and Meta Emotions

Picture a couple of strangers in a gazebo, seeking shelter from mother nature's scorn and being unwittingly overheard by an unremarkable third. Take what follows as an excerpt from their conversation and nothing else, will you, dear reader?

If you ask me, the most justifiable metaphor for life would be a walk. We're all walking our own path. We wave to some of the passers by, while we smile at some. But there are a select few who make us want to stop and take in the scenery alongside them. Then we hear it. The voice at the back of our heads, screaming - 'Oi! Do you really want to do that? What if you forget your way?' And the response from most of us is to keep walking, for fear of losing our way. But there are instances when we stop and spend some time with the stranger. What that time means and what the point of such strangers is, is what this is going to be about.

There simply are too many kinds of different people out in the world. But the one thing common across us all is simple. It's what we all struggle for, claw our way towards. Something that should be the most prevalent thing but is the most elusive. You know what that is. You've bled in the trenches to win it. If you've won it is a question I won't posit since only one response is relevant in this context. So, tell me, dear comrades, how many times did you have to fight? We all know it doesn't matter how many times, because it's always a different battle, isn't it?

I will now return to the original metaphor of the walk. The first time I stopped wasn't of my own volition. Someone pulled my off course and showed me it was okay to stop and smell the flowers. That there was more to the world than running from one goal to the next. And scenery we enjoyed was absolutely beautiful! It was as if the earth mother herself dabbed into her palette and drew one to put all others to shame, for these children of hers were oh so true to themselves and pure! But it was nearly a decade ago, in a distant, now nearly non-existent world. It was the ultimate partnership, where one acknowledged and appreciated the other completely, so much so that it seemed they were linked by the threads of fate itself, ever knowing of the other from the moment they met. But then, as is the case with all interludes, it had to come to an end. As she stood up, she extended her hand and asked him to come with. She already knew his answer, but she wanted the pleasure of asking and hearing the most wonderful, fulfilling and empowering word ever - Yes.

No, he said, with such tenacity that it resounded in the world around them. She was taken aback, so much so that she turned away from him and refused to look. I am not capable of walking alongside you. I will only slow you down, or what's worse, leave us at the side, gasping for breath, as the world passes us by. I have to let you go. You really mean that, don't you? Yes. I have to, you see. For if I don't, I might lie to myself and walk with you, eventually souring the journey for the both of us. She walked away, while he just sat there, wondering why it was raining over him alone. Suddenly, the scenery didn't seem all that beautiful. He kept telling himself it was the right thing to do, but it didn't change anything about how he felt. He lost sight of the world, looking at a single scenery, and now it was not a world he recognized anymore. Which meant he had to start over again. 'You failed to be ready' he told himself, as a reminder to make himself ready for if there was a next time.

And then came the next time. Of course, this time, he was ready. But she left in the middle of their conversation with no explanation and took the compass. His fears came true. He took a brief interlude and had lost his way with no means of reclaiming it. He was stuck there for a while so he figured he'd try to crack the mystery- 'Why?' He spent a long time in the shade, hiding from the light of the world, trying to get an answer. In fact he was there till all his friends came searching and pulled him out. They showed him the route he was supposed to take and ever grateful to them, he continued walking. Stronger and wiser than ever before.

And then came what he hoped was the last time. He was fearful but took a chance, nonetheless. And once again, he was reminded of the beautiful scenery he could watch, should he take the time off to. This reminded him of how happy he wanted to be and he fearlessly embraced it. And then, it was time to get back on the journey again. So he stood up and asked her to join him. He hoped against all hope - for a Yes. She simply choose to take another direction. He got back to his journey, for it was clear now. Interludes end as abruptly as they began. Maybe, he was a fool to expect anything more from these chances he took. Maybe that's all they're slated to be - limited chance encounters with strangers.

As he walked, he started to think. The time he'd spent away from his journey, though every bit as essential as the journey itself, was beginning to now eat at him. It was a source of both great pain and happiness. He thought back to all of those times. What did they truly mean? Everyone ended the same - He was back to walking alone, more tired after the previous. But he kept walking, didn't he? Was that the point? But what about the time spent with those strangers? What did it all mean now? It didn't make sense to him anymore. All that he was left with was pain and the nagging feeling of failure. Why did the pain seem so natural now? Was it because he'd come to expect it? Or was it because he'd always known it?

He just wanted to understand why. Why, at the end of the day he always had to 'understand'. Why he always was miserable instead of happy, no matter what he did and what he chose. No matter how hard he tried, the result didn't seem to vary. And so, he started questioning the 'try'. He, who held honest effort in highest regard had now come to question the very core of his psyche. Why do I feel a chance is the most dangerous thing now, when I once fearlessly embraced it? Maybe it was because all those chances had brought naught but emptiness. Maybe because he was still searching. And walking. And walking and searching. For answers to such questions, though they should be easily available and simple, are hardly ever so. So he vowed to take one more step. Even if that was all he could take at a time. One more step. Towards a purpose he now did not recognize anymore and with a strength the quantity of which he didn't know. But he kept walking. Walking.

One and Two, and Two and Three

I sing to the rock

Hoping to hear your voice

I talk to the wind

Wishing it bears you my words

I pray to the storm

Willing it bear you hither

I wish I had wings

I would fly up and bring the sky down

To show you the how much of my being is you

I wish I could swim

I would dive to the depths of the world

To make you feel the how much of my yearning

What is this pain that’s emptying me?

It fills me like it’s all I’m ever worth but then empties out

Tearing through me between the flutters of my breath

Telling me, I’m right here, fear not

What is this ecstasy that’s threatening to free me?

It’s like the last ray of sun’s light gasping for breath

Before the moonless night sky walks in, reminding me

Of the distance, between One and Two, and Two and Three

Then the pain tells me, fear not for I’ll be here

The ecstasy tells me to ask for reparation if I dare

Both willing my being on, beyond all reason and mortal rationale

Beyond all the walls, all the rules they take me

Till all is memory and pain and adjudication of me and mine

But I fear being alone and bare, screaming as I fall into a mirthless relapse

Oh the distance is inexplicable and haplessly unconquerable

Between One and Two, Two and Three

Love, lost.

A thirst as great as the world

A hunger as vast as the sky

Is the lull in my being as we part

As the yellow sun turns crimson

As the naïve dew drop steps into the sun

I walk out expecting the rain, only to burn

Every time I lay my eyes on you, it’s like the sky itself parts

Every time I hear your voice, it’s like lava erupts

Expressions are not my forte, I’m not blessed like nature

The sun breeds jealousy for he kisses you every morn

The wind is fortunate that it ruffles your hair every eve

But the night speaks to me, as I’m melancholic as the moon

Fated to behold from afar but never touch

Fated to reflect but never show

The moon speaks to me and mine

The earth bears your every being in my place

The rain washes away the those tears I could always tear away

But the storm, it speaks to me; always appreciated, never reciprocated

I’m reminded of the thirsty wave, forever grasping at the feet of the shore

I’m reminded of the limping wind that dies out with want of a tree to dance with

Always longing, never belonging, forever in the red heat, searching

The Big Three

For as long as I could remember I always thought I'd have those 'moments of revelations' that would change my life. And for once, I was not wrong about how I imagined my life would play out. Revelations were ever present in my life and not in a negligible number, either. When I joined my MBA in 2017, I quickly realized something. I was one of the oldest people in our batch! Now, I'm not one of those people who's all 'Boo, I'm older than others' so I was fine with it. In fact, I liked being the older, mature guy. People could sort of tell that about me and it acted as a warning sign for those who perpetrated unwarranted drama. But there was one guy on campus who made me think about my age with what said. My roommate in the second year.

That guy said on one evening when we were just sitting around randomly chatting. Dude. the birthday after you finish your MBA will be the last time you can claim to be in your 20s. How does that make you feel? Doesn't that scare you? I gave him a snap reply. Nah, I've always wiser beyond my years and mature than my peers. I'll be fine. He dropped it there, but his query stuck with me. Does life really change once you hit 30? Truth is, I didn't know. And I couldn't and wouldn't know till a few months yet. So, I kept tabulating my thoughts about things to see if I'd have one more 'revelation' once I crossed the threshold into my 30s. And I did. Only, this was different. It didn't happen overnight. It happened over the fortnight encompassing the week before and after my birthday.

My birthdays have always been uneventful, save for the 2 surprise parties my friends threw me, one in my M.Sc. and the other in my MBA. And I hunkered down for one more uneventful birthday, as probability dictated. But I was hoping, secretly, that something would happen. It was going to be my 30th. And if Rachel Green was any indication, it was a big deal! Celebrations wise, it was mellow. No party, not even a piece of cake or a dinner outside. Usual work day. But, here's one of the revelations: I was okay with it. I was fine with not being outside and painting the town red. Of course, I'd have enjoyed doing that, but the truth is, it was a Tuesday. I couldn't really expect anything from anyone in the middle week, now, could I? So, there I was, working and taking calls, like any other day. Then it hit me. Instead of using my birthday as an excuse to take time off work, what if I worked a little extra diligent that day? I won't tell you what I did next, for I'd like this point to be some food for thought to you, reader.

Then, after I clocked out for the day, as I was singing along to my favorite ABBA tunes, I went back to my thoughts. So, did my outlook on things change? The answer was yes, but not between December 9th & 10th, but over the past week, they had, I realized. So, what did I think of love now? That's right, that was the first thing on my mind. I was just as clueless as always. Or so I believe, because I've never been in a relationship. I only what I've seen and heard and believed about love, never had it reciprocated so I don't have a 'validation', speaking in business parlance. I'm not someone who shies away from the delicate emotions, you see. Instead, I like tackling them so I can understand myself better. I always thought being in love meant having the ultimate partner. Someone whom you can always count on. Someone who has your back. Someone who knows your faults and shortcomings but is with you in spite of all that and what's more, helps you rise above all those you thought are your limits. Now, I don't know if my definition is true, but I sure as hell hope so, because I don't have any indication of it being otherwise. This was my second revelation. "If it isn't broken, don't try to fix it". If you're not sure, keep traveling on your path and life will give you what you need.

The last big revelation: My outlook on life. I've been a proponent of the legendary Ernest Hemingway: True nobility lies not in being superior to your fellow man, but your former self. I think I'm pretty solid there, I think. Above all, just because I spent my 30th all by myself, there was one more thing I got to do, beyond these three big revelations. Re-evaluate all that I have in my life. And you know what, I have a pretty awesome lot of things. My family, friends, teammates at work and the occasional stranger providence puts in my way to show me how I can better myself. Can't really demand more, can we? Of course, there's one more thing I want, but hey, who says a wish out loud and risks it not being fulfilled, right?

So, there you have it. A pretty bland, pensive birthday from your not-so-average guy. I'm Aniruddha Saldi, I'm 30 years old and I'm quite happy with my the how, what and where of my life. How about you?

Consider this

When was the last time you were kind? Truly kind. Not drop a dime in a beggar's bowl kind. It need not have been an act of charity. In today's world, being selflessly nice to others is an act of kindness in itself. The world today has devolved into transactions so much that not harming others in itself has come to be known as kindness. That is not the kindness I'm talking about. The kindness I'm talking about is much more simple and straightforward, but all the more important. It's consideration, what I'm talking about. The thought of wanting to understand another person.

Now, I know what y'all are thinking. Isn't that empathy? No. Consideration is the step before empathy, if you ask me. Empathy is actually putting yourself in someone else's shoes. Consideration is wanting to do that. And the reason I'm writing this now is because I recently hit a milestone in my life and it made it consider a lot of things. One of the things I re-evaluated was what I would change about myself and what I wouldn't. And I will be honest. In spite of all my insecurities and apprehensions, I couldn't find a lot about myself that I thought I absolutely needed to change. And no, I'm not bragging. I'm taking pride in that fact that I was taught from a young age to discern what was right and what not. I was taught to be nice to those around and to be wary of the consequences of my actions towards those around me. And above all, I was taught to spare a thought to those less fortunate than us.

A little while back, I was walking home from a movie, at around 9:30 in the night. Location: the veggie market near my place in Kakinada. I was a few feet away when I noticed a little girl, hardly 6 years old, trying to cross the road. It wasn't that that got me. It was the fact that her mother was sitting under a tree, not trying to stop her daughter, but looking at her with unblinking eyes. And, the other side the little girl was trying to reach was a liquor compound full of drunk, unruly men. I was disgusted with the woman for the position she put her daughter in! And I was going to give her an earful. But, before I could do anything, her daughter crossed the road and some guy lifted her off the ground and put his shirt around her. My alarms instantly went off, thinking this was a kidnapper. But then I noticed the mother smile and it struck me. It must be the father!

I went and got the little girl some biscuits, so I had a pretext to talk to her parents. What I found out, blew my mind. The father worked as the money collector at the liquor compound. He was not a jobless drunk.The mother was paralyzed below the hip but worked at construction sites as the supervisor's aide to manage the daily wage laborers. And everyday, on the mother's way back from work, she stopped by the liquor compound to tell her husband it was time to return home. And I, who've prided myself in my ability to not judge, was ashamed at the mistaken assumptions I'd made. I referred the mother to the hospital my dad works at, in case they needed medical assistance, ever. I truly couldn't think of anything else to offer because they were so happy and content in that moment that anything I could conjure up would only take away from that beautiful moment. They smiled, asked their daughter to thank me and left. Here's the kicker: The wife had her own handicapped person's tricycle and the husband had his own bicycle. 

 

This unnamed family was an unforgettable lesson for me. Not for strength or purpose or some grandiose goal. But for teaching to look before I leap. For teaching to consider someone else's position before I act. For teaching me to not assume anything about anyone based on my limited knowledge and restricted perception. And that is one lesson I thought I'd already learnt from growing up. But no. Consideration, Empathy and Kindness truly have no upper limit in this world. You can never have enough of those wonderful qualities. As a friend's tattoo reads "Kill'em with kindness"!

The Survivor

        Reeling and wheezing, he was flung back to the floor yet another time. He’d now lost count of how many times it was now. He was beaten, battered and bruised by an assailant whose animosity had neither end nor meaning. He shakily tried to get back up. He focused on the freedom and peace and satisfaction that lay beyond his foe. The promise of the everlasting, bountiful, and ultimately rewarding life and land. That was his hook. It always seemed right there, at a fist’s grasp. He could see it. Himself, living under the light of the warm sun, by the comforting sea, in a cool breeze. I shall have it! I should be able to make it! It’s right there, he told himself.

        Using every ounce of strength he could muster, he stood up once more. I’m coming at you, you son of a bitch. I’ll go through you this time! Slowly he built his pace, putting each foot in front of the other with great effort.

        His assailant leered at him. He could neither see his assailant nor make contact with him. If it was even really a ‘him’. It felt like an ‘it’. It was more like he could just ‘perceive’ that abstract entity, acknowledge it as a presence he had to overcome to reach his goal. But never see properly. Every time he reached the entrance to the world of his dreams, it seems like he was kicked back to the beginning and the door pulled further away, all at the same time. But, there was something about this ‘thing’ that drove him to want to defeat it. It kept edging him on, as if to make sure he kept trying. But it pulled no punches; that was for sure. Gritting his teeth, he took another step.

        His entire person was sore and tired, screaming at him with every step he took. He wanted to just lie down. It felt like he couldn’t go on anymore. Like he’d done enough and that it was fine if he’d give up. He’d broken into a run now and was sure he’d make it to the exit now. Yes! I did- before he could even finish the thought, he felt the hit connect. It was worse than the previous ones. It always was. He was sent flying to the back of the room and made contact with the hard wall, further worsening his impact’s damage. Here, again? Damn it! Damn it all! How many times do you have to humble me before you’re satisfied? Why are you doing this? He already knew the answer. His foe never answered. That is what annoyed him the most. Say something! Give me a reason why you’re doing this to me! No answer, as always. You bastard, I’ll tear through you and get out, just you wait till I get up.

        This entire ordeal was tiring, in spite of what he kept telling himself. Why? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? How much longer? I can’t take it anymore! Yeah, I got this far, right? I mean, that’s got to count for something! Those thoughts were always at his psyche’s forefront, giving him a strange sense of comfort. He questioned those thoughts one more time. Yeah, I guess it’s not so bad, after all. This place. I can at least get a view of the world of my choosing from here, right? That’s more than what I can say for most people! He sat down, heaving a sigh of relief.

        The world looked beautiful beyond the exit, shimmering bright and gold, full of all the joys and laughter he’d ever need. It looked so fulfilling, so inviting. NO! He screamed at himself. If I try to get out, I’ll be hurt by it again! No more! His breathing got heavier that very moment. His eyes got wistful. Why? Why must I settle here? Why am I not able to take those last few steps out the door? Just because something’s blocking me? No! Not anymore. I’ll get out. I have to get out. I want to seize that world out there and make it mine! Yes. I will. I will! He laughed out loud maniacally, the cackle of his once tired and sore throat now ringing against the walls. Stop me now, you bastard! Come at me!

        He ran out from the corner he’d unwittingly been cowering in, freed like an arrow towards bull’s-eye. His assailant, as usual got in the way but this time it wasn’t able to kick him back. He jabbed his shoulder into it, throwing him aside. The impact stole his momentum and he fell forward. But even then, he didn’t stop running. Stumbling and almost tumbling, he kept putting foot in front of foot. He was hurting more than ever before but he could tell he was almost there. Don’t give up now! He told himself. Don’t be your own foe now, you’ve fought so hard till now, a few more steps and you’re free of Ed! Yes, that was his name, Ed. Ed Varsity. Peculiar name, he remembered thinking to himself the first time he learnt it.

        As he fell out of the confines of that bleak and dreary room, representative of naught but struggle and hardship into a new world, ‘Thank you, Ed’ he said to his assailant as if out of some primal instinct that he couldn’t fully explain. This new world was one alien to him, yet so familiar. It was the place he’d always wanted to reach! He thanked his past himself for not giving up. For holding onto hope. For powering through the pain, the helplessness, the anger, the fear and the tears. He told himself it was a good experience, one that made him stronger.

        What are the chances it’ll happen once again? Different problem for a different day, I guess. Right now, I’m just glad I held out and made it through. Good thing faith, hope and persistence come to my aid whenever I call out to them, eh?