Amid the despair and gloom, keep the faith. Amen.
Well, my life seems to be filmy, straight out of a clichéd-Bollywood movie. Things have happened in the past that I won’t delve into. And there are things that continue. So what happens when two people meet together with the intention of killing themselves and talk through the pros and cons of the plan? They realise that life is beautiful. And there’s more to it than just your existence, or that of things that make you miserable.
So this is what happened. I got talking with this friend from college, more of an acquaintance since I don’t really talk to him everyday and am not in sync with his life. The way I’d know about my best friends or people who are an integral part of me. So, going on. I realized he was going through a really tough phase. We realized that our lives were pretty comparable. At this point at least. He had his share of problems, I had mine. Shitty jobs, fucked-up work hours, no social lives, other things as well I would rather not go into (all personal and professional and uni-dimensional!). So we, in a rather juvenile manner, decided to inflict some pain, in a very masochistic way. Get drunk and doped. Use some cigarette butts on our arms, maybe cut ourselves up with a razor. Sounds scary but we were in a possessed state of mind. Well, almost.
So we met. Got something to drink. A couple of beers each, some vodka (neat, without lime, straight from the bottle), a bottle of rum. He had weed as well. Since I have never smoked up (and do not intend to anytime in the future), my initial excitement faded. I refused. So he smoked up. And got philosophical. We talked into the night. Of our pasts, presents, and the futures we could have, or would not have. He talked incessantly of inflicting pain and hurt. Being miserable and in a state of numbness. A place where he wouldn’t have any notion of his existence or that of the world in general. My goals were not that ambitious, or lofty. I had intended to jump off the ledge and put an end to things once and for all. But each time the faces of those I loved and liked and couldn’t live without came back to haunt me, pulling me back from that final step. So we continued talking. Of how good it would feel not to be used, of not having your faith and trust abused, of not being on the receiving end of things and behaviour all the time (well, most of the time).
So we decided to make our respective bucket lists. All this time when one is in a different world altogether and one is slightly saner. We jotted down all the things we wanted to do, for ourselves, for our parents, for those we loved --- a Liverpool trip, buying the house he has always loved, writing a book, learning the violin, bungee-jumping, reading sonnets --- all those small (and big) things that needed time we wanted to cut short. Time that we wanted to end. Lives we wanted to willingly snuff out.
Through that haze of grass and smoke and dimmed-out consciousness, we came to the realization that this is all we had. And this is all that would matter throughout, forever. We had ourselves, our lives. We could choose to make it or break it. We could choose to be what we wanted to, or what others wanted us to be. Both had our personal devils, waiting to be exorcised. I talked to him of the phase I had already put behind me, something he was going through, leading him into depression. Of humour and belief and faith and trust, words bandied around until you lose all sense of them and they are what they are meant to be, just words. If faith can move mountains, it has moved my life. And I asked him not to give up. Not to lose hope. Sometimes sanity is good, but only so much of it. Sometimes nice guys finish last, but the pleasure of ending at the back of the line stays forever with them. Maybe.
He decided to give humour a chance. I had already succeeded with that. We had decided to give life one more shot. And would keep on doing it forever I think. Human beings are resilient, they bounce back. Life goes on, leaving instances, incidents, time, people, words behind. But we stand up, bend, maybe wilt a bit and then stand straighter.
And where did Bollywood figure in here? Well, it was a bit of an ‘Anjaana Anjaani’ moment for me. Except that it did not end at a bridge. And with none of the soppy Ranbir-Priyanka romance. We did not sing and dance in a maddening manner. We did not go to strip clubs and bars. What we did was much more important and useful. We discovered life. And we promised to discover joy. And we are trying every single day we have.
Track: 'How to Save A Life' by The Fray.
So this is what happened. I got talking with this friend from college, more of an acquaintance since I don’t really talk to him everyday and am not in sync with his life. The way I’d know about my best friends or people who are an integral part of me. So, going on. I realized he was going through a really tough phase. We realized that our lives were pretty comparable. At this point at least. He had his share of problems, I had mine. Shitty jobs, fucked-up work hours, no social lives, other things as well I would rather not go into (all personal and professional and uni-dimensional!). So we, in a rather juvenile manner, decided to inflict some pain, in a very masochistic way. Get drunk and doped. Use some cigarette butts on our arms, maybe cut ourselves up with a razor. Sounds scary but we were in a possessed state of mind. Well, almost.
So we met. Got something to drink. A couple of beers each, some vodka (neat, without lime, straight from the bottle), a bottle of rum. He had weed as well. Since I have never smoked up (and do not intend to anytime in the future), my initial excitement faded. I refused. So he smoked up. And got philosophical. We talked into the night. Of our pasts, presents, and the futures we could have, or would not have. He talked incessantly of inflicting pain and hurt. Being miserable and in a state of numbness. A place where he wouldn’t have any notion of his existence or that of the world in general. My goals were not that ambitious, or lofty. I had intended to jump off the ledge and put an end to things once and for all. But each time the faces of those I loved and liked and couldn’t live without came back to haunt me, pulling me back from that final step. So we continued talking. Of how good it would feel not to be used, of not having your faith and trust abused, of not being on the receiving end of things and behaviour all the time (well, most of the time).
So we decided to make our respective bucket lists. All this time when one is in a different world altogether and one is slightly saner. We jotted down all the things we wanted to do, for ourselves, for our parents, for those we loved --- a Liverpool trip, buying the house he has always loved, writing a book, learning the violin, bungee-jumping, reading sonnets --- all those small (and big) things that needed time we wanted to cut short. Time that we wanted to end. Lives we wanted to willingly snuff out.
Through that haze of grass and smoke and dimmed-out consciousness, we came to the realization that this is all we had. And this is all that would matter throughout, forever. We had ourselves, our lives. We could choose to make it or break it. We could choose to be what we wanted to, or what others wanted us to be. Both had our personal devils, waiting to be exorcised. I talked to him of the phase I had already put behind me, something he was going through, leading him into depression. Of humour and belief and faith and trust, words bandied around until you lose all sense of them and they are what they are meant to be, just words. If faith can move mountains, it has moved my life. And I asked him not to give up. Not to lose hope. Sometimes sanity is good, but only so much of it. Sometimes nice guys finish last, but the pleasure of ending at the back of the line stays forever with them. Maybe.
He decided to give humour a chance. I had already succeeded with that. We had decided to give life one more shot. And would keep on doing it forever I think. Human beings are resilient, they bounce back. Life goes on, leaving instances, incidents, time, people, words behind. But we stand up, bend, maybe wilt a bit and then stand straighter.
And where did Bollywood figure in here? Well, it was a bit of an ‘Anjaana Anjaani’ moment for me. Except that it did not end at a bridge. And with none of the soppy Ranbir-Priyanka romance. We did not sing and dance in a maddening manner. We did not go to strip clubs and bars. What we did was much more important and useful. We discovered life. And we promised to discover joy. And we are trying every single day we have.
Track: 'How to Save A Life' by The Fray.
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