Our Own Biographies

The opening lines of my autobiography

October 19-2020/ Blog #2

Discover ourselves first.
Then rediscover ourselves.

Who am I? Who are you? Who is she? Who is him? Who are they? Who are we? These questions have been within our minds for a long time. But we never set time aside to introspect. But in the past seven months, that we have been living indoors; working from our homes, achieving and failing from the comfort of four walls; starting new things and stopping doing old things; listening and muting conversations; seeing something and then choosing to turn blind; seeking a hug and suddenly acting indifferent; we aren’t realizing that time has been setting us aside to help us introspect. 

No one in this entire world is denying the reality - enough of this; enough of that; enough of me; enough of you; enough of him; enough of them; enough of us. Enough. Yes enough. But just screaming ‘Enough’ at the peak of our voices is not going to push those thoughts in the abyss. In there; in the abyss; down there; many reasons, many more reasons of screaming ‘Enough’ have been choking to death for the past seven months. But is ‘Enough’ the ultimate action and the reaction? What will happen to the questions we had started asking - Who am I? Who are you? Who is she? Who is him? Who are they? Who are we? Don’t these questions deserve answers. Or we leave these questions somewhere; ask others; waste time over them and then one day, we will again scream ‘Enough’ and stop thinking about them!

But think about them? Aren’t these questions important? What if I tell you that every question is biographical. Every question is hinting at something very personal, very intimidating. Why can’t we treat these questions as research material to write our personal biographies? Who knows us better than we ourselves? Has anybody ever known about the rare passion, immense love you harbor for your Sundays? Has anybody ever seen the sketches you draw of the person, you had loved more than your life? Does anybody know that when you release the shutter of your camera, you create magic with your third eye? Nobody knows anything about you. Somebody might claim to know you. But how much of you is known to anyone else? Too little. 

I wish to make a confession. In the past seven months, I have been asking the same questions - Who am I? Who are you? Who is she? Who is him? Who are they? Who are we? But as a human being, I too have been procrastinating. I feel I had seven fruitful months. These seven fruitful months are not going to return to me or us ever. Maybe we have got a few more months with us to ask those questions again! Perhaps try seeking answers again! Because if we don’t seek these answers now, we will never discover ourselves. In a world where we speak proudly about rediscovering life; rediscovering who we are; rediscovering our childhood; rediscovering our passion; rediscovering our love; we never ever talk about merely discovering ourselves. Maybe we should make that effort to discover ourselves first and then continue with our personal journeys to rediscover ourselves. 

Trust me, we aren’t alone in this journey. The time is with us. The situation is with us. Terms like lockdown, social distancing, precaution, sanitization, hygiene are with us. Every breathing being, living being and struggling being is with us to ask and repeat the same questions - Who am I? Who are you? Who is she? Who is him? Who are they? Who are we? Let’s try seeking answers. Let’s have our own biographies. Let these biographies be not verbose but introspective. I have decided. When I write my biography; I will begin with the line - My is is my was and my was is my is…

Maybe by the time, I am done writing my biography, this line; this statement; these words will get stolen. Because we might be maintaining social distancing. But we aren’t going to distance ourselves from the overpowering impact of social media. Because if we aren’t trending, we aren’t living. But we are still being followed; (sometimes) liked; (most of the times) disliked, trolled, threatened, traumatized, chased, etc. But again, with that whatever little we have left with us, let us have our own biography in place.

-Virtuous Vociferous/ What If/ 2020

#MusingsOfMarch - IN VIEW OF THE WORLD

Take care, treat life well. 

Love yourself. 

Survive, sustain. 

After December 2019, I hadn’t written anything. All this while, I have saving the best words; I have been segregating the best photographs; I have been trying to overcome certain uncertainties. But when I settled down to think of things, I could only imagine a revolving globe. The revolving globe appeared hollow.

Someone had put it so rightly – Fear kills faster.

At this moment, fear is on a rampage. Even the smallest of infection can spell panic. Governments are making announcements to shut down businesses. But, what about the multiple levels of confidence, which had started collapsing due to the outbreak!

The outbreak has a name. The name has its own share of fame too. But the fame is not enjoyable. The fame is not of that nature, which is celebrated.

Depression is setting in; anxiety is pulling in; apprehension is barging in. Should we wear a mask? Should we stay indoors? Should we save our neighborhood? Should we save the world? Questions, questions and only questions.

As is known to many of us, it is a virus. Logically speaking it is invisible. The virus is spreading. And, spreading violently.

Masks are on. Masks are off. Masks are in. Masks are running out of supply. Masks are to be seen everywhere. Masks, masks; more and more masks.

Initially summers were about vacation and socializing. The summers of 2020 are gearing up for evacuation and social isolation. We are arguing; we are contemplating; we are caught in a state of belief and disbelief (both).

Doubts. We are doubting everything. From a sneeze caused due to dust allergies to cough caused due to the food caught in the food pipe. We are doubting everything. The machinery of fear is working closely with our worst of all dreadful experiences.

Words like quarantine, isolation and prevention are growing frequent as vital mentions in our conversations. But I hear no conversations. We hear no conversations. All we hear, we suppress, and we confess is dread, dread and dread.

It could be too easy to call it a modern example of biological warfare. But we aren’t talking war here; we are talking life here. A life that belongs to us and needs to be prevented. Generations can’t get written off. Journeys can’t be discontinued. Love stories can’t remain incomplete.

This threat, this insecurity is endangering our dreams too. We are often heard saying – It’s impossible, not possible. Have we succumbed already? Or we are waiting for the time to consume us in its run against possibilities!

In a situation so challenging, we are also making space for some dark humor. But I guess, humor isn’t a part of this hara-kiri. Reality of time standing stark. Reality of moment seeming dubious. Television is sending out negative signals at us. Social media is sending out mixed signals at us. The truth remains veiled beneath layers of discrepancy.

But this is a phase; a crucial phase to initiate safety measures and to pray for those who couldn’t get the chance to remain safe.

Therefore, by the next time, I write again…my eyes don’t have to be moist; they should be curious again. Take care, treat life well. Love yourself. Survive, sustain. Be there to share your tale of overcoming the odds.  

  

- Virtuous Vociferous | March 16 | March Blog-1 | What If | 2020