I stand in front of the shower, gingerly testing the water. It is cold; way too cold. I turn the tap to hot and wait for the temperature change. As I wait, I space out in my head, going through everything life has become in the past few months. Decisions lie before me, as clear and inevitable as always, only much more crucial now.
Every once in a while, when you have just about had enough of life as you know it, you are faced with a choice. It is not just another one of those insignificant ho-hums of life. It is the real deal. One way or another, your life is going to change forever, for better or for worse.
I hear the voice, mocking and imperious - Choose mortal. Choose the one path that you deign to tread for the rest of your life, knowing full well that you cannot retrace your steps. Choose well.
There are so many things that define us, our lives. All these things splash up a wild melange that makes it impossible to retain clarity when we come to these crucial decisions. The 'greater good', collective social wisdom and several other urban legends become a part of the desperate debate to decide where life goes.
The voice comes again - Focus! Do you not realise? This is the one chance you have of getting it right! Prioritise. Happiness, being good to yourself and sheer impulse... Leave it to the person you are deep within. It is that person who has to live with that decision. It is that person who has to live the life that lays down that path. It is only fair that it is that person who decides what the life ahead is like.
But no! We flog ourselves in an attempt to pay back our debt to the social machine that created us. Sweat and blood, blood and tears, tears and sweat... they all mingle in a harsh, metallic and salty river that runs down our throats in a searing gout, defining the hell we have created for ourself. Forsaken martyrdom for the sake of conformity, a burning skewer in the eyes for citizenship in the valley of the blind.
Too much, you think? Think of the plight of the son who struggles with an education, and later, a career that he is not made for. Imagine the pain of the daughter forcibly married to a deviant stranger, forced to share her life and her bed with someone she can't even talk to. Count the innumerable decisions you made under the what-will-they-think clause and figure out just how much good they did you.
Too much?
I come to my senses, surrounded by steam that chokes me. I realise that the water has become really hot in the meanwhile. A choice lies before me. Another one.
I close my eyes and step forward, giving myself up to the scalding barrage of steaming needles that beat a tattoo on my reddening skin. I feel the thoughts, the frustration boiling up and then burning up in that intense heat. I am in purgatory, and I am distilling the very essence of who I am in the manner of an alchemist. Unconsciously, hands reach out and knobs are turned.
The water quickly becomes a lot more tolerable, and then races to become ice cold. My breath comes in short gasps as my skin sprouts goose bumps. I push my hair back from my face and face the water, my arms outstretched. I feel the freezing torrent wash the slag away from me, beating away whole chunks of irrelevant and limiting baggage. My body temperature drops and soon I am comfortable in that rush of cold water, my breath deep and steady.
I open my eyes and breathe in the mix of the peculiar fragrance of ice-cold water and the remnants of scalding steam. I turn the knobs off. I am ready. I have exorcised myself of all that weighed me down, all that was unimportant. My life lies before me. And I choose. For myself.
I am cleansed. I can think again, clearly. I take an oath.
I shall fulfill my responsibilities through my decision, without letting them shape it to their whims. I shall acknowledge my dreams and fulfill them, without laughing them away as a child's pipe dream. I shall live my life in the image of the person I am, without letting others hammer it into battered and anonymous conformity.
I shall live.
Cogito Ergo Finito
Every once in a while, when you have just about had enough of life as you know it, you are faced with a choice. It is not just another one of those insignificant ho-hums of life. It is the real deal. One way or another, your life is going to change forever, for better or for worse.
I hear the voice, mocking and imperious - Choose mortal. Choose the one path that you deign to tread for the rest of your life, knowing full well that you cannot retrace your steps. Choose well.
There are so many things that define us, our lives. All these things splash up a wild melange that makes it impossible to retain clarity when we come to these crucial decisions. The 'greater good', collective social wisdom and several other urban legends become a part of the desperate debate to decide where life goes.
The voice comes again - Focus! Do you not realise? This is the one chance you have of getting it right! Prioritise. Happiness, being good to yourself and sheer impulse... Leave it to the person you are deep within. It is that person who has to live with that decision. It is that person who has to live the life that lays down that path. It is only fair that it is that person who decides what the life ahead is like.
But no! We flog ourselves in an attempt to pay back our debt to the social machine that created us. Sweat and blood, blood and tears, tears and sweat... they all mingle in a harsh, metallic and salty river that runs down our throats in a searing gout, defining the hell we have created for ourself. Forsaken martyrdom for the sake of conformity, a burning skewer in the eyes for citizenship in the valley of the blind.
Too much, you think? Think of the plight of the son who struggles with an education, and later, a career that he is not made for. Imagine the pain of the daughter forcibly married to a deviant stranger, forced to share her life and her bed with someone she can't even talk to. Count the innumerable decisions you made under the what-will-they-think clause and figure out just how much good they did you.
Too much?
I come to my senses, surrounded by steam that chokes me. I realise that the water has become really hot in the meanwhile. A choice lies before me. Another one.
I close my eyes and step forward, giving myself up to the scalding barrage of steaming needles that beat a tattoo on my reddening skin. I feel the thoughts, the frustration boiling up and then burning up in that intense heat. I am in purgatory, and I am distilling the very essence of who I am in the manner of an alchemist. Unconsciously, hands reach out and knobs are turned.
The water quickly becomes a lot more tolerable, and then races to become ice cold. My breath comes in short gasps as my skin sprouts goose bumps. I push my hair back from my face and face the water, my arms outstretched. I feel the freezing torrent wash the slag away from me, beating away whole chunks of irrelevant and limiting baggage. My body temperature drops and soon I am comfortable in that rush of cold water, my breath deep and steady.
I open my eyes and breathe in the mix of the peculiar fragrance of ice-cold water and the remnants of scalding steam. I turn the knobs off. I am ready. I have exorcised myself of all that weighed me down, all that was unimportant. My life lies before me. And I choose. For myself.
I am cleansed. I can think again, clearly. I take an oath.
I shall fulfill my responsibilities through my decision, without letting them shape it to their whims. I shall acknowledge my dreams and fulfill them, without laughing them away as a child's pipe dream. I shall live my life in the image of the person I am, without letting others hammer it into battered and anonymous conformity.
I shall live.
Cogito Ergo Finito
