Sometimes I hope...

"It’s the seeming impossibility of it all that makes it even prettier, makes people want it all the more. Seeing others “hustle” and work 25 hours a day, where do they find that drive? I wonder if they feel happy."

I grab a cup of coffee, look out my window as the sunlight peeps through it. I decide to take a break from the work I was procrastinating on and go sit outside to bathe myself under the winter sun. It’s a rare occasion, a sunny day, especially when you live in a place where winter is not beautiful, it’s just bitterly cold and the skies are painted with apocalyptic hues of blue and grey.

As I begin to feel the warmth of the sun on my face and sip on my hot cappuccino, I let myself wander away with the thoughts, questions I usually keep running in the back of my mind…

“We are in 2020, no, 2021, NO, 2022! Yeah, surprise surprise, you’re in the third year of this dreadful decade, the “pandemic era”. Your life seems to have come to a halt, but time hasn’t. How? I am still processing 2019, and writing the wrong date in my notebook. Where did it all go? What have I achieved in these 3 years? Getting into a good college doesn’t mean my life has found its right track. Wait, I should update my LinkedIn right? Ah, she got an internship with THEM? She’s doing something really good with her life, being productive. I wish I could be more productive. That stupid planner doesn’t work. All I do is sleep, eat, and attend classes. That is not going to get me anywhere. I should work on a new routine, find some videos to help me figure this out, and I’ll get started. But wait, why? Why do I want to be productive? Why do people want to feel productive? What’s this inexplicable urge to be successful by 25? You know, it’s the seeming impossibility of it all that makes it even prettier, makes people want it all the more. Seeing others “hustle” and work 25 hours a day, where do they find that drive? I wonder if they feel happy. I mean if they’re working so hard, getting drunk on coffee day and night, burning the midnight oil, it must be to feel that scintilla of joy and satisfaction right? I hope they feel that. I hope they’re happy. I really do. 

Speaking of time, it reminds me of this one instance where a friend of mine posted a reasonably long article about something that genuinely affected her. Surely people, especially the ones on her close network, would take out the time to read what she poured out her heart for, right? That’s when my eyes find this acronym in small print right at the bottom of the article saying “TLDR”. Not being a huge fan of this contraction lingo, I ask my friend what it means. “Too Long, Didn’t Read” is what she said. An abstract of sorts, it’s something people add these days to even 100-200 word long articles or proses for those who don’t have the time to read it all! Do people need a summary for art, poetry, prose as well now?! If you can rack your brain while reading those lengthy annual reports or course readings, why can’t you feed something to your heart once in a while too? And what I call art? It has now been reduced to being called “content”, and its artists, “content creators”. It’s so depressing to see what makes people feel alive is now used in the same sentence as “niche” or “algorithms”, and is trying to tout itself by catering to what the general audience wants! What fueled life into people is now getting its life sucked out of it.

What’s the problem? The problem is that we’ve stopped living for ourselves. Our avaricious minds, the need to see our names in the “30 under 30” or “25 under 25” lists, it’s made us commercialize even art now. And the worst part is that we’re not even selling anything, we’ve become the products ourselves. Letting a bunch of strangers decide what we’ll sing, wear, dance to, eat, etc…we’ve sold our individuality, and our sense of true freedom because of the “validation” we always seek, and now receive through all these screens. We’ve lost sight of who we really are, and what WE really desire. Really, it’s true. We’re all drunk on something to keep pushing ourselves. Some on money, some on power, and some on success. Probably why we feel so bitter all the time is because we keep wanting more of THIS, something that never truly remains, and not enjoy the simpler, more available, more PRESENT joys of life- family, love, friends, and yes, ART. I hope we all find our way back to ourselves because I don’t know if I’m ready for a future, for a generation that has slaved itself to money, power, lust, to each other, but not its kindness, its happiness, its wants, its love, its own self. I hope it happens soon. I really do.

I don’t want to sound like an 80-year old saint who has solved the mystery of life, but your whole life doesn’t have to pass by for you to realize that the mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve, it’s a reality to experience. I hope we don’t waste this beautiful life working for someone or something we don’t even know if we want, becau-”

Just when I was about to put the final notes on this almost overdrawn epiphany of mine, I hear my phone ping. I open my eyes and see it’s a notification. It’s my CR (class representative) saying, “Here’s the link to join the next class”. I take a sip of my coffee, it’s cold now, I stare at the cup as I let a sigh come out of me. I no longer know what this sigh means.

Thank you, and stay tuned for more. Until then, if not before.

-Vidushi Sinha