Sometimes you need a long time to recover from a bad phase and so they say "time heals it all". But sometimes you need just a jerk and you realize your sadness and the problems you think are gigantic are basically infinitesimally minute compared to what many others, much younger to you face on a daily basis.
A few weeks ago I with my heart broken over a recent tragedy, a personal loss dragged myself out. It had to be so, I had no choice. Sunday nights the canteen is closed, so I couldn't sulk and have just whatever was available. It had been a month since I went out. My interactions were minimal and all I was capable of was doing the work mechanically like a robot. I thought of only the loss, the person who was no longer with me. It made me feel alone, sad and without being verbose I could conveniently describe my state as melancholic. I didn't now where I was going. I operated mechanically. Being a person who is incapable of sharing problems with even the closest friends I had to deal with it myself. Find the strength within me to fight and rise above it as I always have so far in my independent existence. However this time the sadness was greater, a loss permanent and so was its effect on my soul, which was shredded into minute pieces, just that you couldn't see them. I knew I was wrong, for I was loosing focus. It okay to be sad but when it continues for too long it can have severe consequences. I tried reviving myself from the situation but all the efforts seemed fake in its wake. I knew I shouldn't be like this but alas! I was. I was scared I would collapse but whatever I tried didn't work. The effect on my work life was greatest. i was less productive, nit working with zest which my peers noticed but not being able to fathom the shadow over the plastic smile covering my face, they pondered and wondered but gave up as I wouldn't explain.
The creator somewhere in the heavens probably saw it all. A tiny creature with a mammoth sadness and smiled. For that was the day the heavens poured and I saw him. A small child, I do not know whose name. I call him Inspiration. Inspiration had no clothes and lived on the street. He worked a menial job and saved his wages carefully. I know so because right where I was buying my food, he was inquiring how much would it cost to have a filled belly today. What if he had just half the serving, he could save more that day. The shopkeeper had a good heart, he explained to him what was the best deal for his money. He had earned 100 Rs that day, probably more than his daily earnings. He wasn't even then treating himself, for his mind was clouded like the clouds above him that poured, what would he do tomorrow? What if he didn't get work then? After fifteen minutes of haggling he spent forty rupees on dinner for two, probably a dependent. He must be barely 12 years old. And when the lightning struck it was my heart that lit up. Imagine this kid and his life. He struggled every day to just fill his belly and despite of living on borderline poverty he wanted to live. He worked and probably never went to school. He might spend the rest of his life uneducated, in the same place he was born but there was something that drove him. A fire that kept him alive, like Richard Parker kept Pi alive. I had comparatively a very comfortable childhood, my only worry being my studies and getting better grades than others. I had a future and my parents worked each day to ensure that. This child at a tender age of 12 was alone with a responsibility to feed, and when he got his food and left he had a smile. I was sulking for something that was inevitable. People leave the planet all the time. Yes you miss them when they go away, but hasn't everyone got to go away someday including ourselves. So should we waste this limited existence grieving and expecting a solution for a problem where there is none or live it to the fullest? This was my question to myself.
Inspiration taught me to give my best each day and that is what I strive for. The depression does come back but I picture him and his haggling, his smile I the end and keeping safely the 60 rupees he saved that day like a priced possession. My life could have a greater purpose and I realized it when from a child who taught me thee is nothing one cannot fight and there is always someone in greater pain, fighting a bigger monster than you , so just stop self pity and start living. That has been my mantra since then and will be forever. Thank you Inspiration for the accident.
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