Source: Unknown
You see the curve? The irregular sinusoidal curve? My mood is like that. I start the day on a high. I make my bed, make a list of things to do, visualize my short-term and long-term goals and go out with all the positivity. I appreciate small things in life - sunshine, birds, trees and the sky. I observe things rather than making a judgement. I dont yell on people and I try and get all the good karma I can.

I feel like the success kid and I am all determined to take on the world!

Life looks rosy and I have this inkling that great things are going to happen to me. In anticipation I start "living" the life that I crave for (a la The Secret). And I open my arms wide and strong, ready to recieve the goodness that the world would apprantly shower on m. 

I reach wherever I want to (coffee shop, clients office, borrowed desk) and by the time I arrive, I start falling into this mild, for want of better word, depression. I start questioning the very meaning of what I am upto. Things that I am doing - they dont matter no more. Where I start thinking about the reason of doing things. Where I wonder about the whole damn point of being in a world where life is unfair. Someone like me, who thinks he works harder than anyone else that he knows of, is poor and gets a raw deal all the time. Of course there are great things that has happened to him but overall, in grand scheme of things, he's got the raw deal. There is no sex or cash, no friends, no future and nothing else to look upto. Everything feels like a futile attempt. Its like staring down the abyss.

The worst part of this feeling is that I am not alone. I know so so many people just like me. The ones who keep trying and keep going on without any hope or any possibility.

But then the selfish fuck in me pushes the pathos for others on a back seat. I concentrate on myself. And I realize that I am unhappy and I am discontent.

There are quite a few reasons for the feeling. The first and foremost is the fact that I did not get lucky with the Ovarian Lottery. Like the poor kid on the left, in the image on the left, I have had to climb really steep ladders while I see very average people doing better because they had things served to them on a platter.

The other thing is that I have had to work really hard for every rupee that I've earned while the word around me seems to get it easy!

And then my money does not word hard. For every rupee I spend, I do not get its equivalent worth.

First bit (losing out on Ovarian Lottery) is a random luck. The second is something that I can control and yet I cant because of the value system that I have been ingrained with. I wish I could unlearn em. Once a middle class, always a middle class!

When this bout of self-pity gets too much, I stagger to YouTube and fire up the latest Kamal R Khan video and world starts looking bright all over again. Side note: Do see his collection on Youtube if you have time. Here is the link.

I wish I could love myself the way KRK does. In a world where self-love could be so, selfless, nothing can touch you!

But then, moment the video is over, I am back to the gloom of diminishing bank balance, lost opportunities and comparison with friends who are dollar millionaires and yet make a stupid show about their poverty - wish they accepted that they are doing well and stopped pulling legs of people like me who barely get by.

At this point, I try to count my blessings - amazing parents that are so selfless that I dont believe them at times (while I continue to cry about Ovarian Lottery), opportunity to have traveled the world, option to work for myself (and make enough to pay my rent and earn my bread, while sending nothing home), ability to choose the kind of work I want to do (not that what I do has changed the world) and so on and do forth. Side note: Did you notice all the disclaimers?

But then I realize that I am not alone. And I havent done it all. I have a fucking Jack of all trades at best and Jacks often end up as JackAsses. See that lame attempt at pun? And I claim to be an author!

I think I'd end this post with this lame attempt at poetry...
P.S.: In fact, as I finish writing this piece, I am even wondering about the reason of this blog. I dont think anyone reads what I write (apart from people who land on this page via Google). And I definitiely dont go back to read how I was feeling at some point in the past. May be its just a way to vent? But to what end? Pointless. Like life!

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The Nidhi Kapoor Story

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