30/10/2013 by Siddiqui Fayesal
I think this is the first time I’m using this word. It’s a word that hit me when I read a fellow blogger’s post (you should know who you are). My spirits were low since morning and just before I fall asleep I read that.
It didn’t help.
I could try and pour my emotions into words and try hard to sound real intense (no matter how nonchalant) but I will not succeed. I’m not downplaying my ability, mind you, I’m just not in the right mind frame. Melancholy is seeping in through my pores. It’s like a well formed strategy. They attack and then run away. I can’t feel the pulse of my inactivity. I can’t manage to pinpoint the whys and the hows. The sadness congregates in my heart and decides it has no more reason for being there than pure self loath.
I usually start my day with a jog. Ok, not every day, but at least 3 times in a 6 day week (Sundays aren’t counted, right?) and set my alarm for 0545 hrs every night. Last night was a similar rendition like the night before. I set the alarm and tried falling asleep. Sleep was a little difficult. I had zoomed out of the world and looking at myself from light years away. I saw my insignificant life taking the chartered path since when I was born. Like, my fellow blogger, I, too, saw no reason for my existence. For that matter, I didn’t even see why SHOULDN’T I be existing. After all, if I simply “be” then I simply “am”. Right?
They say that there are different universes existing side by side. They say that “time” by itself is not something that changes. It is us that move from one universe to another. So, as I float above myself and see me doing exactly those things that I wasn’t supposed to do and delving deeper into things that have nothing to do with my life I feel despondent. I feel a burning question in me asking, rather desperately, why am I stable? Static. Stoic. Why am I not moving in the right direction? Where is MY universe that was chartered for me? Why can’t I get up and go for that darn jog every morning?
Laziness? Lethargy? or, just sheer lack of conviction. I know it is the latter and I if I catch myself telling any different then I obviously am lying. The art of lying to ones own corporeal self is something that humans mastered long ago. They know exactly when to do that and have connived through ages and eons to collaborate with like humans and that is how words like Laziness and Lethargy emanated. These sorry excuses are nothing short of a regurgitation of the worse form of corroborativeness amongst the basest and vilest of us.
And see how well we do it.
I watch myself dress up with agony. I’m not fresh. I tell myself that it’s because I didn’t get my coffee. I’m lying again. I grit my teeth when mom tells me that breakfast is muesli. I tell myself that it’s because I don’t like it. Truth is that I’ve never even tasted the thing! I live through the day pretending to work while doing nothing. Even when I know that if, and when, I DO work, the day passes by and I don’t even realise when the 11 hours are over.
In spite of this I don’t work.
The day is wasted and the worst part was that I was aware of the waste every single minute. I knew exactly what I was doing to my detriment. Yet, I did it.
A day in the life of Siddiqui; just wasted like it was worth nothing.
Perhaps, I will live it tomorrow. Perhaps, I will get another chance tomorrow.