drifting along...
Just some musings of mine, which, of course, means endless rambling.
Public post.
Nothing much to update about my life. I'm in a bit of a rut.
You always hear those quotes that say, “Be a leader, not a follower,” but how can that be? Who is that directed to? Because it can’t be to everyone, it just can’t. This world, the systems we follow would not exist if there were no followers; and without them, leaders would be of no importance.
Then they say, “Be an individual, be unique, be your own person.” I fail to grasp that, as I am losing the notion of anything being unique in the first place. Whatever you choose to do with your life, someone has done it before, and someone will do it again. Someone will always do what you’ve done, maybe a little better or a little worse, but essentially it’s the same: the same photo, the same song, the same goal and the same dream.
I suppose, in a way, I am lucky. I’ve spent most of my life living in a “white world,” so I stand out. There are of course always other races (including mine) sprinkled around the places I’ve been to or traveled, but I always am stared at. Many times people have stopped me to question what ethnicity I am and others will look in my direction, forgetting to be discreet altogether.
People remember my name. In elementary school, we’d have subs, and they’d sit us in a circle and we’d go around saying our names. At the end the sub would try to recite the names back. Mine was always remembered (for some reason I was disappointed). It’s a simple name, ridiculously simple, and yet it seems to be so uncommon, so unfamiliar to everyone, so it appears to be unique.
Sometimes, someone I won’t recognize will come up to me, wherever, whenever, and say, “Is that you?? It’s been so long!” and when I stare blankly (and do my best to act polite), they introduce themselves and will share stories about me when I was 10+ years younger. While I can barely remember their name or their role in my life, they blabber on and on about the littlest memories or interactions. They remember me.
If I were back in India, it would be different. I would be a part of the crowd; no one would glance up. It is what it is. We are naturally curious and inquisitive creatures-we always want to know about the unknown. Besides my looks (in this country), however, I don’t stand a chance. I am no leader. I have nothing to prove to the world, nothing to claim as my own.
Someday I’ll be long gone-ashes in the dust-and I’ll be forgotten. It is inevitable. Even those famous individuals we admire, that we praise and name holidays after will slowly lose their importance. Why hail the past when you can glorify the present? No one cares anymore about who invented the telephone, all they care about is having the actual device. You focus on the now, and possibly the future, but the past is over and has lost its importance. But I digress. A soul, whatever that means precisely, has a time span. An expiration date, if you will.
There is a reason people define people in groups: because every single person fits in one. No one is an “outcast,” no one has their own story. Athletes, gangsters, politicians, artists, mentally challenged, abused, whatever-you will always be offering something that’s been used and you will always be apart of something that’s shared.
So, there is no way I can be an individual. In the literal sense of the word, well of course I am, but in the more important, figurative way, I find it hard to see how it could be possible. In a world of 6 billion people (and heading towards 7 billion soon), I’m just a number. I fill up a chair in a classroom, the population of a city. I may have thoughts and ideas, but again, they are worn.
Public post.
Nothing much to update about my life. I'm in a bit of a rut.
You always hear those quotes that say, “Be a leader, not a follower,” but how can that be? Who is that directed to? Because it can’t be to everyone, it just can’t. This world, the systems we follow would not exist if there were no followers; and without them, leaders would be of no importance.
Then they say, “Be an individual, be unique, be your own person.” I fail to grasp that, as I am losing the notion of anything being unique in the first place. Whatever you choose to do with your life, someone has done it before, and someone will do it again. Someone will always do what you’ve done, maybe a little better or a little worse, but essentially it’s the same: the same photo, the same song, the same goal and the same dream.
I suppose, in a way, I am lucky. I’ve spent most of my life living in a “white world,” so I stand out. There are of course always other races (including mine) sprinkled around the places I’ve been to or traveled, but I always am stared at. Many times people have stopped me to question what ethnicity I am and others will look in my direction, forgetting to be discreet altogether.
People remember my name. In elementary school, we’d have subs, and they’d sit us in a circle and we’d go around saying our names. At the end the sub would try to recite the names back. Mine was always remembered (for some reason I was disappointed). It’s a simple name, ridiculously simple, and yet it seems to be so uncommon, so unfamiliar to everyone, so it appears to be unique.
Sometimes, someone I won’t recognize will come up to me, wherever, whenever, and say, “Is that you?? It’s been so long!” and when I stare blankly (and do my best to act polite), they introduce themselves and will share stories about me when I was 10+ years younger. While I can barely remember their name or their role in my life, they blabber on and on about the littlest memories or interactions. They remember me.
If I were back in India, it would be different. I would be a part of the crowd; no one would glance up. It is what it is. We are naturally curious and inquisitive creatures-we always want to know about the unknown. Besides my looks (in this country), however, I don’t stand a chance. I am no leader. I have nothing to prove to the world, nothing to claim as my own.
Someday I’ll be long gone-ashes in the dust-and I’ll be forgotten. It is inevitable. Even those famous individuals we admire, that we praise and name holidays after will slowly lose their importance. Why hail the past when you can glorify the present? No one cares anymore about who invented the telephone, all they care about is having the actual device. You focus on the now, and possibly the future, but the past is over and has lost its importance. But I digress. A soul, whatever that means precisely, has a time span. An expiration date, if you will.
There is a reason people define people in groups: because every single person fits in one. No one is an “outcast,” no one has their own story. Athletes, gangsters, politicians, artists, mentally challenged, abused, whatever-you will always be offering something that’s been used and you will always be apart of something that’s shared.
So, there is no way I can be an individual. In the literal sense of the word, well of course I am, but in the more important, figurative way, I find it hard to see how it could be possible. In a world of 6 billion people (and heading towards 7 billion soon), I’m just a number. I fill up a chair in a classroom, the population of a city. I may have thoughts and ideas, but again, they are worn.