[This is one big horrid rant. The last
few weeks and the months preceding that have probably been the toughest in my
20 year old life and the end is nowhere in sight. Crippled by a completely
inability to right, I have not posted anything on this blog for months. Today,
even though all I have managed is a rant, I am eternally thankful for the
universe for allowing me to put together more than two sentences.]
One of the most common adages about
happiness is that it is a choice. And maybe it is. Why, then, do we so often
make decisions which seem right but do not end in happiness? Decisions are
supposed to be an end in themselves-you evaluate available options and opt for
the one that seems the most suitable, right? Why then does dealing with
decisions taken often becomes more difficult than the decision itself? To make
things worse, the age in which one needs to take big life altering decisions
seems to be becoming younger and younger. My parents made that choice at 24, I
am making it at 20. Same difference? Not really. Imagine how you were at 16 as
compared to 20. Vastly different, right?
Psychologists say that my generation is
about as unhappy as one can be. Extremely high expectations of oneself as well
as of the world coupled with the belief that all of us are special and hence
deserve special things to happen to us are supposedly to blame. The new
parenting hack seems to be the ability to convey to one's child that while they
made be great and capable and should aspire for good things in life, they are NOT special. Good things are not going to happen to
them always. Heck, good things happening in life is probably a rarity. Life is
not meant to be easy and will never be. But must it be always so hard?
The ability to take tough decisions in
life is something that has been venerated by society since times immemorial.
But taking a decision is only the tip of the iceberg, and that is where I am
standing right now. Decisions. Decisions. A decision that I have taken to
supposedly prevent unhappiness later in life is making me about as miserable as
I can be in the present thus begging the question, is it really worth it? Is it
worth pledging the present to stave of unhappiness in the future? As kids, we
are often taught that the future is more important than the present, that the
future is something that one needs to continuously plan for. But is it worth
sacrificing the present for?
I am not a big fan of the concept of
living everyday like it is the last day of one's life, myself, for the simple
reason that I don't think it is possible if you reasonably belief that the
prospect of existence of tomorrow is a certainty. But the thought that haunts
me day and night these days is that one day the promise of a future might be
taken away from me and then I will have nothing to show for myself.
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