At times my indulgence in critique surprises me. So does my self assumed endeavour in understanding and being aware of things around me.
Why do I want to necessarily find a meaning in what I am seeing, why do I want to connect it with a way of thinking?
Why do I need to have this urge to theorize daily life? Why can’t I just be lazy or indifferent about different things?
As I sat in the auto-rickshaw and noticed “Columbia” embroidered on the driver’s jacket, I had the urge to talk to him, to find out his origin, his story, his aspirations. Had I done that, and shared it with some co-thinkers we might have had a discussion on trickle down of desires.
When I see a hoarding announcing luxury apartments in the lap of nature, I give that sly smile. I click a picture or make a note as if I have had a superior understanding as compared to my fellow beings. As if the paradox in the statement is a hidden form of knowledge that only I and a few others have attained by their study and observation.
At times my egoism annoys me.I give so much importance to my thought, to how I see things, that I fear I might forget that others have their opinion too, and there really is no one simplistic way of looking at things, At times in trying to acknowledge complexity and uncovering different layers of meaning, i fear I end up imposing a personal view more than discovering what is there, earlier I used to make it complicated.
At times, when I am a part of a forum or workshop which has more people like me, it irritates me when listening to faux accents . When I watch their hands move and hear in a sing-song voice words such as “interesting”, “fascinating” and “rich”, I silently wish they would actually elaborate.I feel suffocated when in the name of participation people voice the most redundant of concerns with facial expressions signifying grave seriousness. It makes me disconnect, it makes me yearn for a more …simple way of maybe speaking? A more grounded sense of being? As much as I love reading culture around me, at times I feel my habit of raising myself to a pedestal where I can make a remark on it, makes me disconnect from reality rather than being immersed in it. This is just to acknowledge it, and keep a check lest I get too lost in the sheer pleasure of it all.