Losing Myself in Responsibilities
There once was a time when I lived, and not merely existed. Life itself was simple, and so was happiness. I did not require much—simply enough to keep me moving forward, to survive. I never pursued riches, never fantasized about greatness. My happiness was found in companionship with myself, in losing all sense of time in the little things that gave life its fullness. But somewhere along the way, in between the seemingly endless hospital trips and the ongoing fear of barely making enough to cover medicines and doctor bills, I lost that piece of me. I lost myself, a stranger to who I once was, trapped in a cycle of obligations that had no end.
The Struggles of Survival
It was difficult—difficult to control myself mentally, physically, and emotionally when I was ill, to fight my own doubts and fears while also caring for my family, who were entirely reliant on me. The burden of it all was overwhelming, a never-ending cycle of worry, fatigue, and powerlessness. And yet, somehow, I broke out of the cycle with the unconditional love of my daughter and of course with the strong emotional support of my wife. I discovered how to draw myself back, not to allow the weight of survival to take away the very nature of who I am.
Don’t expect from Others
There was once when I lived without expectation. I lived as life came, not expecting anything in return. But somewhere along the journey, something shifted. After losing my wife and daughter, I began to expect others to show me love, to care for me, and to pamper me. Maybe the loneliness played me its charm. And that was a huge mistake. The only person I should have expected anything from was myself, and yet I forgot about me. It took me nearly a decade to know my fault, to realize that I was the cause of my own misery and happiness. And now, I have begun falling in love with myself again.
I miss those days
I miss those days when I roamed without a destination when I allowed life to take me wherever it wanted. I went to distant lands, lingered until I was home, and inhaled the smell of a place until it settled into me. There was no hurry, no timeline—only the still ease of being present, sensing time expand and drag out as though the universe had stopped to allow me to live completely. I frequently switched jobs—not for career growth, but for my open-ended travels, as leaves became a hurdle in my travel plans. My career was never a ladder to climb; it was a vehicle that fuelled my wanderlust, allowing me to explore and experience life on my own terms.
Little Joys of Life
The Singer in me
I miss singing on the compound wall of my college grounds during my college days, seeing my friends playing cricket, my voice blending with the rustling wind, taking away my cares like autumn leaves carried into the unknown.
Nature is your Best Friend
I miss the small traditions that stitched my life together—the Sunday evenings at the beach with my wife and daughter, our feet in the damp sand, the ocean murmuring its ageless lullaby. The sky set aflame by the colors of twilight, the laughter carried in the salty breeze, and the sensation of being free and weightless.
The Taste of Life
I miss the flavour of life—the pani puri challenges with friends, that led to breathless, tear-filled laughter, the smoky fragrance of roasted bhutta blending with the smell of rain-kissed soil, the mad exhilaration of walking shirtless on Marine Drive, allowing the rough showers soak me to the core as if heaven itself was rinsing away my troubles.
Binge-watching
OTT introduced the trend of binge-watching. But I did this very often way before the arrival of OTT. I missed watching four movies in a row in four different theatres in a day, while on sabbatical, giving myself over to various tales, various feelings, various lives, every film leaving a mark on my soul. Upon returning from an adventure, I would sit for a day watching four movies non-stop or reading a whole novel at once, losing myself in various worlds, and various feelings. That, also, was pure joy—yet another way of living several lives within my own.
I miss me—the me who lived unselfconsciously, who derived pleasure in small things, who did not gauge life in checks and pills but in seconds and snapshots.
Rediscovering Myself Again
And now, since 2022, I once again have resumed control of my life, leaving all the so-called important things behind. Grateful to my friends-cum-business-partners who have allowed me to be myself one more time. And, oddly enough, grateful to COVID—because if it did anything, it taught people the real value of life and the convenience of working from home.
The Road Ahead: Living, not just Existing and Surviving.
Life wasn’t supposed to be about merely surviving; life was supposed to be lived, deeply and thoroughly. It was supposed to be experienced in each breath, in each step, in each beat of my heart. I wish to roam once more, to hear the quiet within me, to hold close the parts of myself that had been forgotten. The world still exists outside my door, and it’s still waiting for me. And now it’s time—I am prepared to live once more, to be myself again.
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