Shorts
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Lesson From My Life
I haven’t read a book in a while. I used to be someone who used to read at least 5-6 books a year (each book about the size of the Lord Of The Rings), but now I don’t. A book a year for me is a good year for literature. In this age of blogs and Twitter, I somehow don’t seem to have the patience to sit and read 400+ pages worth of words that say the same thing in a thousand different ways, even if I split it up into multiple sittings. I like to sit through a good story book though, but those are so rare. My mind automatically gets drawn to things that satisfy faster. If I do happen to start a book, I stop reading the moment I understand where the story is going. And so I began thinking about the reason we might read a book. Is it the story, or the way that story is written? As I kept thinking about it, I posted a tweet.
If your life was turned into a book, why do you think anyone would read it? What does that say about you?
It wasn’t a serious question, but the more I thought about it (I was asked to), the more I realised that the answer would basically have to be a summary of my life in 1000 words or so which could fit in a blog post1.
Even though I’m 23, I believe there’s quite a bit people can learn from my life. I won’t go into everything, but if there’s one thing that I will, it’s fear.
What Are You Afraid Of?
I spent a good part of my life in fear. As a child, I was scared of my parents and teachers. Most children are, I suppose, but not like me. Children might be afraid, but it usually doesn’t stop them from doing their thing. Children usually don’t think of the consequences of their actions, which is the gripe we as adults have with them, and do what they want to anyway. My fear made me not do things. Things, on retrospection, that seem rather harmless, like bunking a class to go play cricket in the field. In my head, that equated to murdering someone.
I was afraid of my teachers. If I could go back about 12-13 years, I would walk up to each and every one of my middle-school teachers and slap them—especially the female ones. Maybe it was just my school, I don’t know, but teachers were people who ruled with an iron fist. They were the people your parents believed over you, and you were not supposed to complain against no matter what they did. Of course, by the time I changed my school in the 11th grade, I was too old to be afraid of teachers, but the fear of authority was always there somewhere.
Then, as an adolescent, came the fear of friends and being “accepted”. I was too sensible for something like peer-pressure to get to me, but one of the larger points of conflict was if doing something that I wasn’t would result in me having more friends. It’s a type of fear I suppose, the fear of being left out. It makes you do things you wouldn’t if you were more secure. But life has a way of making unimportant things seem important. Like friends. Or a relationship. Or a reputation. None of them are important, but when you’re afraid, you look to them for reassurance.
As an adult, I was afraid of my career, and how I would fair if I didn’t graduate with good marks. I’ve never been a good student; I lack the discipline to sit and study something I am not interested in. Sure, I was told that everybody does it, but to me I wasn’t “everybody”. The more I wanted to rebel, the more I realised that nobody was going to lose anything from my rebellion except me. And I was afraid that I might struggle to find a good job, fail in life and disappoint my parents.
Prematurely Old
Although I’m just 23, it does feel like I’ve been through and seen a lot (things I’ve not even hinted at in this essay). And after everything is said and done, if there’s one moral of the story that you should take away from reading about my life, it is that don’t be afraid. Things have a way of sorting themselves out if your head is in the right place, your intentions are proper. Fear makes you lose out on a lot of experiences, and experience is one of those things that can never be bad. There is no such thing as a “bad experience”, because every one of them teaches you something. It is better to make mistakes when you’re younger and have people watching over you than when you’re older, and you shouldn’t be afraid to make those mistakes—don’t let your head get in the way.
What does all this say about me? I don’t know. My mother always says that I’ve grown prematurely old. And in some strange philosophical way, I guess it’s true that worrying too much makes your hair turn grey faster. And that’s all I have to say about that.
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Ironically, you might never read such a book because you’ve already read this post, and I’ll get vindicated while not really gaining anything. ↩
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