It’s a nice way to start a blog. Write about something you know that others don't or write about something that all of us know but want someone else to tell us (the stuff consultants do) or perhaps, write about what we all love to read about (which frankly revolves around a few core issues related to subconscious human needs, desires and wants).
Is it? I think not.
I am not going to do anything like that. I don't believe in telling others what they know or telling them what they want to know. Frankly I don't even believe in telling others. I write this to share with others what I know, I realise and leave it on them to read or reject.
Life is a choice that we do not take and cannot reject. In there, we explore, imagine, observe and classify experiences. The text below is majorly a hybrid of observations with imagination crossed in weird proportions.
The first thing that a lucky new born hears when he starts his stint in this brand new world is probably some noises (why I use the word noise and not sounds or voices, will come to you as you read this). Some of these are made by people excited on his grand arrival and the rest are normally what the dictionary confirms noise is. These don't make any sense to anyone and the energy these create make the new born join in and sing what he would probably sing all his life – The Song of Misery.
These noises fade away just like a huge wave washing away a layer of sand from an already bare piece of earth leaving nothing but just tears. The next to touch his auditory system are the music of his mothers love. Part gibberish, part twisted series of alphabets made from his name (that is if he is fortunate to have been assigned one) and part words that sound harsh but drenched deep in motherly affection. These words sometimes delight, sometimes correct, sometimes explain, sometimes pamper and sometimes just leave the toddler flabbergasted. Misery is probably the least here but has definitely found a new client.
Growth, as it has always been, arrives with many changes and many of these many changes, again as always, are disruptive. The baby drapes around him the noises conferred by his family which make him view the world with a filter of bias and emotion. The degree of noise remains the same but now he understands and starts to contribute to the noise. The little kid now becomes rational, a transition that gives him a gift that is a double edged sword, and the cognition that reasons things around him reaches deaf ears, weird expressions and lame explanations which all result in half informed opinions. The song has just started.
Adoloscence knocks suddenly inebriated in the cocktail of youth and ignorance. The opinions find vent in the daily chatter and activities. The cluelessness spreads and reaches epidemic proportions. The stage is flagged by the stern immunity to register the noises but intern be part of a mass that thrives on noises and disturbances. The newly born adult then is resultant of all these noises chosen at random. Ironically, it is a stage that makes you what you will be all throughout, at a stage when you are most vulnerable.
The rest of the life is a function of the choices you took and the decisions you made henceforth plus a factor which is based on improved experiential learnings. The noises fluctuate but stay persistent, weaving the song of misery step by step.
Walking with these noises as his stick, the being then reaches where he feels the urge to hear these noises, forget the notes which misery sang and wait for the good that triumph over the bad. The wait is short and the denial more abrupt. Yes, at termination he realises that all what he heard, he practiced and he preached was actually noise. The message, the music or the thought lay deeper within all the constituents of these noises. It was for his choices that he sang a song he disliked and ignored what followed him, hour by hour, day by day, searching for the real him, - The Song of Content. It becomes clearer what all this was but at a time that you can do nothing but gasp for action.
Life is strange. Its path may embed many twists and turns but in this madness one thing is common – A State of Uncertainty. No two choices can be controlled simultaneously ever. After all, choice is not what ends a life or in fact begins one. But yes, choices only control life.
