Every time I reluctantly say ‘yes’ to something new and love it, my alternative self in another dimension that chooses otherwise, remains oblivious to the wonders, and marvels of engaging in novel ideas and acts. It remains unvisited by the consuming euphoria and ecstasy that novelty brings with it. It persists ignorant of what could be. A scenario tragic, and familiar.
I want to be the ecstatic version of myself in this reality, not the oblivious one. I’ve had my share of lacklustre experiences playing out in my timeline following the “Noes”. I’d leave those to the other me now, in another world.
I wish to dive deep into the world of unfamiliarity; unrealistic agendas, and impractical schemes; to leap long over the chasm that separates me from myself; drift away from ideas of propriety, and sobriety that keep me from walking wobbly and falling. I wish to be high on adventure, spinning with rapture, roaring with a frenzy of exaltation; walking that tight rope between being an artist and a neurotic, because that’s where all the magic happens.
I want to transcend and be more than myself, more than what happens to me, more than what people do or say to me, more than what they think, or imagine me to be. I want to lead a life unknown to people, unencumbered by conventions and norms, by cultural blasphemies and familial bondage; away from those who celebrate mediocracy and those who glorify the ordinary, and those who denounce genuine efforts to rise above it all.
I want to spin my own tale, and improvise my own life; I want to render my own reality, and not go on being a survivor in someone else’s orthodox story. I want to exercise volition in determining how my story unfolds, and how it comes to an end. I want agency over my own narrative, and yet have a subtle understanding, certain wisdom, at the back of my head, warning me about unforeseen catastrophes with the potential to capsize my very being.
I want to be the most phenomenal version of me, and yet wish to die with a sense of having achieved greatly and at the same time never knowing my ultimate potential. I want to fade away with a lingering dichotomy of being in the know, and the anticipation of still not knowing enough. I want to recede into unconsciousness with a paradox unsolved, to be pursued in another life, unsure of life beyond. That, would be a beautiful life; lived and un-lived, experienced and unwitnessed, embraced and untouched. I don’t want answers or solutions; only discourses and theories, discussions and disagreements, problems and brainstorms.
After all, what’s the fun in knowing something with finality, when you can savour the nuanced flavours of uncertainty, relish your devouring insatiability, and jam with jostling ideas all your life. What is the fun..?