Lightness of Being

It has been three months of replaying my whole life - starting from the first memory:

In the mid 80s, there was a school near my house which accepted any kid whose parents paid the fees. When I was just short of two years, I was dragged to that school against my will, and they left me there despite my protests. I remember sitting in that class among kids double my size (one boy even wore suspenders) and I remember the feeling of being abandoned, and thinking that I have to fend for myself. That was my first memory in life.

Fast forward to two days back: I'm sitting on the Madras house terrace, trying to make sense of life, and doing it alone. I enjoy being alone with my head compared to the labour of talking to someone lacking in intelligence or empathy. I like speaking to close friends, but some things are too dark - so dark that I can barely begin to converse with my own head.

Two days back, something clicked. I was able to coax my mind into facing suppressed memories. Once the memories were out of the closet, and I could stare at them without fear, it took the brain a few minutes to piece together 35 years of life. Within moments I was jumping up and down in joy, unable to believe what just happened. I threw my hands up, and screamed Yaaay! 

I couldn't believe the lightness I've felt since - like fluffy seeds which float around in the wind. It was a moment of truth: I could now enjoy the lightness of being alive without the cobwebs of memory shackling the mind from evolving forward.

In case you're wondering what the hell did I learn, I won't disappoint you entirely. Life came down to three things: Guilt, Shame and Fear.

What helped me is this: We have limited time in this world. What is the point in carrying these feelings into Death? Won't life be better if we shared our feelings truthfully with those we love, or for a start, with oneself? Imagine all of us going to our graves with our little Truths hidden deep inside, and no one will ever know, including - and most importantly - ourselves.

I have all these thoughts in my head and I don't quite know what to do with them just yet. Like Abhimanyu and the Chakravyuha, I've entered my mind and opened the cupboard without thinking of the way forward. I figured that so long as the way out exists, I'll find it.

I am reminded of the letter that Andy writes to Red in Shawshank Redemption's closing sequence - "Dear Red, if you're reading this, you've gotten out. And if you've come this far, maybe you're willing to come a little further."

I am Andy, and my mind is Red.