Sometimes in life, and I know this might sound very typical, you get lost. You look around, and everything seems different.
Its weird in a way because things look familiar, they sound familiar, they even taste familiar. And yet, they don’t feel the same.
Friends do not feel like friends. You start seeing them in a different light. All the things you relied on for support seem to not work anymore. You feel confused and overwhelmed. And you say to yourself, something has changed.
You look around, and desperately try to find the reason behind this change. You analyse your life, you analyse the people you interact with, you wonder whether you have done something wrong…
You introspect your personality, you doubt yourself, you try to find someone to blame for your problems. You look for comfort in the comfort zone. You look for some kind of familiarity. You try to find some hope to desperately cling on to.
And it doesn’t work.
And then, you find yourself wandering through the streets of Pune, alone and deep in thought, thinking – why has everybody changed?
And then it hits you harder than a punch in the face: you are the one who has changed.
Of course, by now, you must know that this is all about me. Not you, not him, not her. Not the reader. But about the writer. This writer, in particular.
It wasn’t all that bad, but it was something new. The feeling of being lost, truly lost, was something I had never faced. I had faced feelings similar to this, but not completely like this. And recently, I had the pleasure to finally do so.
And as a result, I found myself on the Urban Hill.
It was a cute little hill, carved out of a sea of mountains. At the edge of Pune’s urban boundaries, it lay quietly and delightedly. Poised at the perfect location, it stood welcoming and tall, yet comforting short.
Bhakti Shakti, it was called. They had turned the hill into a park. A beautiful, clean, nice and simple park. From afar, it seemed like any of the hills and mountains you see while passing Lonavala. But as I came closer, I saw the fine, intricate pathway woven into its grassy skin, the tall statue of Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj and Sant Tukaram and the tall flag pole. I sat there, in my own thoughts, oblivious to the beauty around me, at the start. I was so lost in my own thought that I did not notice the bronze sculpture.
Behind me was one of the greatest Kings of all time. Behind me was also one of the most popular saints in India. Behind me was Bhakti and Shakti. And all it took was a selfie flash of some school going girl, to make me turn and marvel in its beauty.
Now, I could lie and say that the statue is what made me realise the true nature of life. I could claim that somehow, the towering frame of Chatrapati Shivaji bathing in the glory of the melodious Sant Tukaram was what brought me back to my senses. And made me realise why I felt lost.
But it wasn’t.
All the statue made me feel is more lost! Because by looking at the statue, the real complexity of life hit me. I sat there in the cool breeze, with the pointy grass making my ass itchy, just staring. And only when I turned away did I finally realise what was going on.
That one feels lost in a strange new world. But one has to carve out a new way in this new and unknown world. One has to change, one has to adapt and one has to grow to survive in this new world. Thinking about past, stewing in your own thoughts or thinking on and on about why, how or when, will not help. You need to focus on the what. On what you are going to do about it.
You need to accept the fact that while everything and everyone around you feels brand new, it is only because you have changed. And you get to decide if this change is for the better or for the worse.