War and peace

It has been very weird lately. Ive been meeting a lot of new people accidently. Personally I never cared for people. In the grand scope of things they mean significantly little to my own existence. That doesn’t make a hater. That just makes me real. I see what it really is. I call it the way I see it. And don’t get me wrong, it is refreshing to meet new people. It’s just that I wouldn’t really care if I didn’t. It’s just who I am, or maybe that’s who I have become.

Its a change and I feel this change as it walks right through me. Conversations have changed, faces have changed and so have the voices. For me though it is unexplored territory. I mean I haven’t made a new friend in years. Not since I left college. I mean I have met a lot of fascinating people since then but I wouldn’t really call them friends to be honest. In my opinion if your conversation doesn’t leave the pages of social media, you aren’t really friends. It’s debatable but im set in my ways I guess. People call me old school and I find nothing wrong in being old school. I’ve tried and failed to adapt to the new norms of being around when convenient and talking when you feel like. You’re either there or you’re not. There is no grey area here. But maybe that’s just me.

A collection of incidents have forced me to get out of my shell and try to make new friends. Given the fact that my current friends are “busy” all the time. And I find myself staring at the walls on a Friday night way too often. It is a step that I was forced to take. Not because I wanted to. I require very little from life, but when you’re left with nothing something needs to be done about it. Its a design flaw to be honest. If god intended to give humans inflated egos he should’ve also sewn in the skills required to exist independently. Not that it is impossible to do so. You only live once however. You can choose to spend it your way by being completely detached from the world and living life on your own terms. Or you bend a little to social norms and acceptable social behaviour and be a part of something. You may not always have a control over what goes on in such a situation, but there is solace in camaraderie. That’s just how it is.

Like all elements present on earth, man seeks to find his stable state. In the end we are own driven to peace and tranquillity in our own separate ways. Our destinations might be different but the objective is always the same. Peace. And there are no limits to what a man will do to achieve that peace. Even if that means going to war.  Not the kind of war involving guns and bloodshed. Im talking about a war we are all part of. Its called existence and we join in the second we are born. And there are no teams in this war; no sides. It’s every man for himself. Every selfish motive for itself. Every noble idea for itself. Sure you find like minded people and companions along the way. People who share your burdens and support you but make no mistake, your fight remains your own. Your peace is your peace. Your war is your war.

This is the story of my war, to achieve my peace.

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One thought on “War and peace

  1. I try to forget about it all for I know dwelling on it will not do me any good. For a person who has just been fired, I am doing remarkably well, which disturbs me a little but works out for me in the end. So far it hasn’t been so worse. But I sense it soon will be.

    I am being dishonest with my own self.

    I sit all day in my room, typing furiously, taking calls after calls. Calls of concern, calls of genuine gesture, calls of smug, calls of sadism, calls of my loved ones and calls that I don’t take. One tells me, “How humiliating it is and how could they do this?” well, they did. Other asks me an inane question, “How are you?” I evade this question. And when I take a pause from my baffling calm and listen to the piercing silence, I do feel humiliated to no bounds. I don’t feel okay. Who will be okay with all this?

    And then, right there, amidst my worries, it strikes me how lonely I am. No one is coming to help. No one ever will. This sinks me further down to the whirlpool of this ever spinning solitude. I guess this is my fight as always. We come to this world alone, crying, screaming and messed up. And the scenario never changes. It doesn’t get any better with time. In the end of everything, your regrets will be more than the hair left on your head, if you are lucky to have any left by the time it all ends.

    It is a War. It has always been.

    No one will fight for you.

    It is, Arjun, every man for himself.

    Indeed.

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