(Un)Faithful

Do people mean what they say when they say it? Do they continue to mean it? These questions can only be answered when people actually understand what they are saying. Most of us don’t. We don’t know what we are talking about. We just say it because it sounds most likely in the given time. We don’t feel accountable to those words. We say it because it feels good, it feels right. And who doesn’t like to be good and right?

People change. They are different the second time you meet them. They change everyday. They learn new things, unlearn old ones. We want others to stay the same because we have developed this comfort zone with their old self and we call their old self as their original one because that is the part of them we are friends with .’Original’ is something that never fades out i’ve heard. ‘Original’ is real i’ve heard. So when we change, do we become fake? Are we not real enough?

Well, we are real, as real as we can get. But we are not faithful, not enough to stick to our own words, to stick to our old self. We can never explain why we change because we cannot make someone else learn and unlearn what we did. Their life has a different meaning, they are not supposed to change the same way we did. That is why no one understands why we changed because they don’t have to.

So, we are real but unfaithful. And just to balance out the faith we become unreal so many times. We compromise, we try to be the same, we try to be what other people want us to be and that definitely makes us fake but we don’t care because we put faith first even if it comes at the cost of our new reality.

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Black hole.

The thing about old toys and humans is that you have to let them go when the time comes. Not because they have worn out, not because you stop loving them, but because you have to grow up.

I like being a child. I can be a child forever. It’s like being a child gives you this advantage of commiting a mistake under the name of experience. You are learning and so you will commit a mistake and that is all right until you feel guilty and improvise. But being an adult is like aiming for perfection. You cannot afford to commit a mistake. Being adult is like being on a full time probation. You are always being watched over. Your karma is all set to ruin you once you do something wrong. I know that karma works otherwise as well, even when we are young. But the damage done in adulthood feels irrepairable. It’s like you feel too much pain and there is no remedy that can heal you. There is this part of being mature, we tend to understand things better. We understand our feelings better, the bad ones too.

When you are a kid, crying is a way of getting things done. You cry and you get what you want because no one wants to see you getting hurt. No one wants you to suffer. They want you believe that you will get whatever you yearn for, that nothing is impossible to get. They lie. They teach us to live in denial. And right after reality hit us, we realise that we don’t get everything we want. We cannot have what we cry for. Infact that is why we cry for the most because we realise we don’t have the kind of control over life that we once anticipated.

This transition from childhood to adulthood is like going through a black hole. Your old self disappears without a trace and you keep searching for it endlessly. It’s an entire different universe. You cannot survive in it unless you unlearn. Unlearn things that contradicts with this universe.

It takes power to absorb reality. Power lies in control, and the only control we can have is on our self.

Self control makes us the master of our life. But that is only the partial truth. Because if there is a master, there is a slave. And if we are the master then we must not forget it makes us the slave as well. Slaves to self-pity. Pity of not being able to control ourselves and our life. Perhaps why we feel so powerless sometimes, when our slave-self takes over the master. We become slaves to our own world of control and power. And it’s all too dark. Just like the black hole.

Let us not pity ourselves. Let us not become slaves to our self pity.