No Referees

 You know how there are moments when you feel like you're just wrapped in your own little cocoon? Just a single moment, sometimes, of absolute peace or tranquility. It can happen anytime, anywhere. While you're just sitting at home doing nothing, or maybe when you're out for a walk, or while just looking at a sight you've seen a million times before. In that moment, you are in your own microcosm, uninterrupted by thoughts, actions, words or plans. Just as suddenly as you enter that world, you are forced back into rude reality by something or the other. 

It might be a single glimpse out of the corner of your eye, or a stray thought just passing through your mind. It could even be an old memory- happy, sad or bittersweet, doesn't matter. It just bursts your bubble and reminds you that the real world still exists out there and you still have to deal with a million other things which may or may not be in your control. There's not a lot you can do about these things; in fact, there's almost nothing you can do. It's not a nice feeling, this. 

It's a kind of helplessness which you know you can't change, and the funny part is, it chips away at you without you realizing. You'll be under the impression that you have a mountain of strength or a bastion of resistance in some memory, or incident, or just something which held a certain amount of significance in your life. It can even be a person. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, you will see that this bastion of yours, this reserve, is nothing but a phantom and there's nothing you could do to change it. That's helplessness.

You know what the terrible thing is about helplessness? Hopelessness creeps in with it without you noticing. It's like one of those terms and conditions which end up with the buyer getting ripped off. Never feels nice, but there's nothing you can do about it. The difference here is that it's not a consumer product; it's life. And it will keep hitting you in the face when you're down and out, because the referee isn't going to stop and start the countdown. That's a concept that humans invented: the countdown. Even in the middle of a barbaric and bloody fight, there's always a referee who will give a countdown to the wrestler or boxer.

Now that's some semblance of civility in an arena where bloody knuckles and puffy eyes are the norm. Rather ironic, isn't it? Either way, life doesn't give you that sporting chance. You may or may not see the uppercuts and hooks and jabs coming in a boxing ring, but that's something you can work on in the due course of time. The only shot life has in its arsenal is the sucker punch. You never see it coming, but it leaves you down and gasping for breath. 

There's been nothing to make me feel helpless, lately, but I can't help but get reminded of incidents when others felt that way. Not just helpless, mind you; sad, disgruntled, happy, scared, terrified, confused, ecstatic- I've seen them all, and not all of them are pretty to look at. You know what is pretty to look at, though? The face of a person whom you helped get through something. Or the face of a person who helped you get through something difficult. 

Doesn't necessarily have to be a face, actually- sometimes, just the voice, or a message, or just the recollection of that person. That's beautiful to look at. To remember. To just know that that person depended on you, and you could keep that trust intact. It's not easy, but that's never deterred you. Or them, depending on the situation. Either way, that is what it feels like to have had an impact on a person's life, however small. It's something you may or may not always remember, but if the other person has any shred of decency or humanity, they'll never forget it.

Life's pretty funny sometimes. The one thought I had in mind for today's post was based on the effect a fish market in Calcutta might have on the taste buds of a professional wine-taster. I haven't said a word about that, but I've rambled on about something completely unrelated. The funny part is, life does that all the time. The stronghold turns out to be a phantom, while the littlest things end up packing the biggest punches (think in terms of Sachin Tendulkar here, not in terms of boxing). 

The past month or so has been tumultuous, to say the least. I've given exams, I've seen things I treasure get removed, I've returned home. I've reconnected with memories I didn't know I had, I've lost touch with people, gotten into touch with people. I've had people taken away forever, I've had people stay when they absolutely didn't have to. I've been sick, I've seen a long-standing dream come true, I've adjusted to a pace which seems almost pedestrian when it is actually meteoric. It's been a rollercoaster in every sense of the word, and it's been one corker of a ride. Hope you have a more humdrum journey, everyone. Adios!