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11/12/2012 by Siddiqui Fayesal

There are times in life when one doubts the very fabric of ones existence. Not only are they scarier than having a dead body in ones closet they have this bad habit of jarring ones sense of comfort and well being. Such jarring eye openers make us stop and wonder the very question that we usually run away from…


At the spur of the moment one doesn’t realise how bad, or good for that matter, will the ramification of our actions will be in the very near future making us gamble on our luck and barter instant joys and self congratulatory pats on our back for sanity and serenity. The actions we undertake are dangerously skewed towards the utmost improbable. But we, being humble humans, derive a lot of pleasure defying the physics of God so that we can sit by the fire, when we’re 85 years old and tell our grandchildren just how gutsy we were when we were young. I can very well imagine myself sitting in a rocking chair with a cane resting on the wall and a fire crackling near by. I’m sitting with a cat on my lap and my grandchildren sitting in front of me on a mat cross legged and listening to my bullshit and lies with so much immovable attention that it would put a setter to shame! Normally such a picture of innocent children sitting at your feet while you spew lies would humble anyone but I am a damn veteran of lies. I know when to give pauses to give that extra twist to my tale to make it sound more brilliant and melancholy at the right time.

I know how to lie. Nah! I’m not lying to them children. I’m lying to myself.

Exactly like how I have lied to myself these past many years. With regular practice comes quality lying. That’s what Ben should’ve told Peter. But then we’d have missed out on many spidey movies. But then that’s not the point is it?

We’ve all regretted almost every day of our lives. I’m not talking of colossal regrets like how I regret not being able to weep when my grand dad passed away. I’m talking about the more regular regrets, our everyday regrets.

Like, getting up late and missing your regular bus to your workplace. Or, stopping for a second and then walking under a tree and being drenched in bird droppings. Even our daily regret of not being able to live our lives to the fullest. Now, this last one is a real bummer. How can we even dream of doing that! Don’t we know enough of our life after living for a quarter of a century? Haven’t we YET realised that it is folly to even dream of it? How do you think life plays out? You think you get a share out of a quartered apple and are satisfied? Like Shakespeare said, “Wilt thou lift up Olympus?”

How eloquent, isn’t it?

Regret has been the most dominating part of my life since the past few days. Or was it weeks, months or years? Everyday I get up and regret sleeping for that one extra hour but I do it again the next day. I’m not only a liar but a shameless bum. But I might be parading everyone’s folly masquerading it as mine. Apologies, oh Brothers!

I wake up late. Regret. 

We all do it. Everyday. Regret!

We all do it. Everyday. Regret!

I break a china ware. Regret.

I made a friend weep. Regret.

I called names to someone. Regret.

I lost my mind and said something rude. Regret.

I reached out just one moment late. Regret.

I behaved in a way not expected from me. Regret.

I expected too much from my loved one. Regret.

I pushed someone to her limits and she snapped. Regret. 

The list is endless. There is no end to what regrets we have in our lives. The bigger list is of the regrets we have everyday and promptly regret it again the next day. And the next. And the next to the end of your sorry life! But we don’t learn.

The kind of regret which hurts you the most, though, is not when you regret your own action. But when your actions makes someone else regret theirs. When your behaviour repels some one away from you. This regret leaves a mark on you. A tangible mark that every one can see for themselves. It either makes itself  apparent in the form of a sudden change in your facial contours or a major upheaval in your laughing propensity. It makes itself available at the mere touch of the tendril of self doubt. Scratch the surface and you’ll see almost everyone afflicted with it. But you see, we’re made of sterner stuff. We weather the storm and make promises to ourselves that we will never change. This in spite of being chewed and spat out.

People call this confidence and a strong personality.

I call it shamelessness!

Siddiqui F.


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