Why I stay away

When I look back at my life, there’s plenty to be ashamed of. So many mistakes were made because of my immaturity, my obstinate refusal to grow up. It’s only in the autumn of your life you realise that so many blunders of youth could have been avoided. In Tagore’s words, clouds now come floating into your life, no longer to carry rain or usher a storm, but to add colour to your sunset sky. The metaphorical rains and storms belong to a different phase.  The hues of the sunset sky remain now.

Those hues may look resplendent but each has a sad story to tell. That’s how life is, I believe: more tears than laughter. Or is it more folly than wisdom? Wisdom comes through the tears, perhaps.

The wisdom does not make you perfect, however. The truth is that none of us grows absolutely. We grow in certain dimensions and remain clumsily retarded in certain others. I have at least grown wise enough to know where I’m likely to make a fool of myself. That’s why I stay away from society.

When you stay aside and watch, there’s more fun than tears. You watch others make fools of themselves. In the name of gods and gaus. In the name of territories and allegories. They die or kill for the sake of myths. Sometimes you’re confused whether to laugh or cry. You’ve seen enough to make you laugh, but your sensibility doesn’t let you laugh.

I wonder if it’s because I haven’t yet grown up like the majority of people that I’m unable to mount the bandwagon. The reason doesn’t matter except my awareness that I don’t belong there.