The past two weeks had been pretty eventful. One of my best friend got married. Was she really such a best friend? She was to me, but what was I to her? When I look back now, I realize that I always knew what I was to her, and I had jokingly referred myself to her so. It used to upset her so. Little did I realize that I was hurting her, even if for a joke, bringing out the glaring truth. Was it the truth that hurt her, or my ignorance of the truth? The truth is that I was what Malayaliâ€™s call â€œKariveppilaâ€, aka, curry leaves.
The marriage was a huge success, as she got to marry the guy she was in love with for years with both of their parentsâ€™ blessings. But my participation in the marriage, I feel, was a huge mistake. I had one week notice to attend the marriage, and with the vacation season in full swing, there was no seat available, anywhere, but still I managed to reach with a day to spare, even getting a nearly impossible leave. But I was crushed by the reception I received. Her family was happy to see me and saw to it that I was comfortable, considering the fact I hardly knew any of them. But the conversation between me and my friend went somewhat like;
â€œOh, you are here.â€
â€œYea, you are wearing a sari!!!â€
Someone talking to her in the background.
â€œYou are wearing a sari!!!â€ I repeat.
â€œI will talk to you laterâ€
An hour later.
â€œWhy donâ€™t you eat something.â€
â€œHere, have this,â€ and I give her a small gift.
â€œAre you eating?â€
â€œNo, I eat a lot, and I got to go homeâ€
â€œI will ask you one more time, are you eating?â€
I agree to eat.
â€œI will get something to eat.â€
I eat, find her, and tell her I will be back the next day.
Next day, at the marriage reception, I walk around, unable to find anyone I know. At last, I find the bride and the groom.
Bride: â€œHere is Sunilâ€
I congratulate them both and talk to the groom.
She turns to go, I say bye to her and leave.
Now, was that worth travelling 800kms without having a seat? Was that worth taking a leave that was impossible to get? It was, to me. Fortunately or unfortunately, I believe that was the closure. Sounds like a clichÃ©, of course it does, but I really needed to know where I stand. And, now I know, unfortunately. But more that that, that marriage was the product of an investment I made, with 4 years of my life. I had taken a stand, and the stand I made had succeeded. What is 4 years of my life, compared to a lifetime of happiness for my friend? So my presence there was purely selfish, to take pride in the decision I made.
Ainâ€™t I proud?
I wonder sometimes, does anyone ever read this blog? I donâ€™t think so, not that it would make such a difference. I given the address to anyone, except a long time back, and after that the blog was inactive for almost a year that, I donâ€™t have to fear anyone stumbling back here. And I hardly ever comment on other blogs, so there is hardly any reason for anyone to find this blog, at least, not intentionally. Why I am I writing this if I donâ€™t want anyone to read? Agreed, it sometimes reflects my personal thoughts, but even then, nothing that could come back and bite me. Is there a fear in me, that I would be rejected? I am sure that I can handle rejection, but what if, a person who reads this says it is good, but thinks otherwise? Now, why would I even think like that? Probably because that is exactly how I think.
Is it that, I donâ€™t need recognition? I am sure that is not true, because just like anyone else, I crave recognition. But what do I want to be recognized for? Should I be recognized for writing a blog? There are millions of them all over the web, and thousands of really good ones. At one point of time, I was ranked second for a search on my name. Nope, recognition I got, what I want is, recognition for something worthwhile.
Back to the old question, why write a blog? Not for anyone to read, but for me to write. The earlier mentioned test suggested that a part of me liked to think but lacked the initiative to put the thought into action. The report suggested that I write down my thoughts, is that what I was unconsciously doing all this time? There is another part which likes to take risks, but they hardly ever meet. Oh wellâ€¦. I hope I read all this later sometime. Maybe I will find out what I really want to do.
I wonder why some people write day in and day out, not for money. Agreed, there is recognition, it exercises the mind, and communication is after all the building blocks of human civilization, but still, donâ€™t they ever get bored? Donâ€™t they ever want to do something else so much that they donâ€™t get time to write on a blog?
I am sure I am missing something. I see so many things not so obvious, but why do I get the feeling that the rest of the world knows the â€˜secretâ€™. The â€˜secretâ€™ that keeps the world going, that makes people do such silly things like wake up when they are sleepy, eat when they are not hungry, take a bath to go out and sit inside a cubicle smaller than the bed they were sleeping in, sit there all day, and come back all dirty and tired. The secret that makes you learn something for years, then forget all of it and learn something new so that you can â€˜workâ€™ when you are able to do anything else, and retire when all you can do is work. And after all this trouble;
Am I missing something?