13/11/2015 by Siddiqui Fayesal
I tried writing a poem about this but realised that I was incapable of making it sound true. A lot was being lost in the trip from my head to the keyboard. Today was one of those futile days that could never be appealing to me and I kept moving towards the world that existed in my head.
Nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed to be on track. I was down in the dumps.
I keep telling myself that I’m not unique or hand picked by the Gods of Humour to be their lackey, to be their fuel of mirth, to see me run around in circles cursing my luck, my fate, my life.
I keep telling myself that we all are just the same, that very few of us actually love their dreary lives as the regular swirl of the clock, that it is alright to lead dual lives where we cleave our souls in two distinct parts: The Have to and The Want to.
We all Have to do things that we, at least at times, we don’t Want to. But, Have, by definition has an enforceable spin to it and we can’t do anything about it. Mostly. I’m giving disclaimers because it’s not a chemical equation that I’m speaking about; it’s an abstract. It’s life.
I was following a blog until year before last. I stopped following it because the guy was irritating me with his interpretation of following his dream to write. I’m not going to take names but his “belief” was kinda stupid. He asked for donations once every few months so he could maintain his sedentary life without moving his butt. Okay, I’m perhaps being unfair as I don’t really know him apart from his blog. But what I do know is this: I know life’s not fair and more often than not we all want an out. The ‘out’ might not necessarily be an easy path; it might be tougher than the present existence, but it an out after all. An out from the dreary everyday and the humdrum of a processed life. I understand and respect the desire of wanting to escape the 0900 to 1900 life that we all live but at the cost of what?
This guy wanted an out by asking for donations so he could upgrade his computer and pay his electricity bills and, as recent as last month, have a dental issue corrected. Why couldn’t he work is what I asked myself!
The answer that I read in his posts itself was that he couldn’t see himself as anything but a writer!
See, this isn’t about poverty, it isn’t about not being able to earn because of problems out of your hand or even about inability due to a mental issue.
It’s just about being far too much of a Howard Roark in the face of adversity. Idiots will think it’s great to face adversity but it’s not. Like, Mr. Keating says that… “Sucking the marrow out of life doesn’t mean choking on the bone.” Beautiful movie, mind you, Dead Poets Society. A post about it later. Anyway, my confusion teems with thoughts regarding this. In which aspect of the world, in which twisted definition of life is it alright to be stubborn for the sake of doing what you Want to do. Especially when the cost of maintaining such a life is to simply feed a highly romanticised notion!
I love writing. I LOVE the process. I love the feel of writing. No not the writing a story part. I love it right from the moment I screw open my fountain pen and write the date on the upper left hand corner of my notebook. Right from the twirling of the pen to the rethinking of a phrase to the cancellation of an insipid paragraph. But, would I leave my job and do writing full time? I’d love to. Would I still do it, if I had to ask for money every few months to maintain myself?
It’s not rocket science. It’s common sense.
It’s what I Want to. It cannot, by principle, be above and more important than I Have to. Every one is drunk with the notion of doing what one wants ignoring the insidious truth. One cannot always do what Wants. There are times when you Have to do the Haves.