My Diwali is a little different from what I see on Instagram. And Maybe yours is too?
Around Diwali, on social media, all I see are parties, people dressing up, playing cards, dancing, getting piss drunk.
But weirdly Diwali for me is doubts, questions about life, about love, the meaning of it all, heartaches, decisions I've taken and how it's impacted my life, my evolution, etc.
Am I living it right?
It's been a while since I'd come to my favourite coffee house, in the wee hours of the night. It's where I usually sit down, spend some time to introspect and let my fingers on keyboard say what I can't.
It's where I can really have a conversation with myself.
A therapy session for my restless soul.
AND I'M GLAD I WENT FOR THERAPY TODAY.
Often, like an Ouija board it reveals things that are buried deep within, things I never really knew existed.
Before I slow roast myself questioning my decisions, benchmarking against what society throws at me as normal or correct, this is how I usually break away from the pretend sanity where I feel directionless or unproductive.
Being an artist is a lonely profession.
You don't go to a particular office all day, breakfast and lunch with your teammates, working towards a common goal, camaraderie, team spirit etc. You are mostly left to your devices carving out a persona, chipping away at your imperfections, honing your craft.
"DO YOU LIKE IT?" Asks my therapist.
Not really. I don't enjoy swimming alone against the stream, even if it seems in line with with my stream of consciousness. I assumed I'll meet a few wandering souls like me along the way.
Perpetuated by social media where pawns play their part and portray a life larger than what they're actually living, I feel more alone than most days around Diwali even though I have enough people I love, more than enough who love me back.
I've always known that this life I live will be full of moments where I am either surrounded by people OR sitting alone talking to myself/my therapist - writing things down on paper or pouring my heart out in songs I write.
Every passing year, questioning the sticky notes left on my brain by television, movies, ads describing what Diwali is supposed to look like.
But since the time I've understood the way things work, there has always been
SOMETHING MISSING
and
I don't know how to fix it.
"DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ANY DIFFERENT FROM OTHERS?" Asks my therapist
Hiding away from the world during the day, I come out at night to play.
The way to happiness seems like a long steep uphill climb and there are moments where I see myself giving up mentally even before I physically start that climb.
I don't know where to start. It's been made slippery because of all the rains, all the edges smoothened out - nothing really to hold on to.
I wanna find gaps to fill but I can't seem to find them.
I ask for help but I get empty promises, half hearted attempts that I can see through.
And there are distractions at the foot of this hill.
A nice cozy place to rest.
An inviting smile that wants me to laugh a little.
There is a small carnival with lights and inviting sounds with happy faces, all chasing their own dreams their own way carrying balloons, ice creams and popcorn in their hands; everything tangible but short-lived.
Like the bubble gum that loses its flavour in a few minutes, gets thrown and replaced by another burst of flavour providing that momentary joy to all the oblivious souls in the carnival as they move across, stall by stall playing new games, indulging in new experiences, buying things they don't really need, getting duped by sales agents.
It's all nice and shiny but I don't want to be distracted.
It seems like everybody's there but I don't want to be distracted.
I wonder how many of these souls wandering in the carnival tried but couldn't find their way up that hill.
I wonder how many of these are resting in that quaint little cafe, everyday watching new explorers gathered under the hill.
The glass windows all fogged up.
But they stay inside because the world outside is cold.
How many tried and but now have found their resting place.
How many have found a smile that feels like home and they don't wanna leave.
And then there are those who discovered a secret passage or passage that discovered them. Maybe their friends and family told them about it.
Or maybe those paths are all covered shut with rocks.
Oh, the rains.
Or maybe if you dig deep enough, you might uncover those paths.
Maybe you'll find another way around the back where the rocks have cleared
Oh, the rains.
Come with me. Let's look at those happy faces in the carnival once again and be happy for them. Wish them well. Give them love.
Let's go rest in that quaint little cafe, take mental pictures of that smile so that you can close your eyes, revisit whenever to feel that warmth again.