I often wonder how happy and chirpy I used to be as a child. I would write statements like ‘I am the best’ and used words like joyous, playful, and merry-girl, to portray myself in the slam books I filled. How difficult it use to be for me to get rid of some old clothes even when they no longer fitted me. There use to be fun, family, drama, chaos and me.
And now, there are nights that don’t pass, and days that don’t come. There’s sadness and sorrow hovering all around. Has anyone I know died? No. Did something awful happen over? Not really.
Yet, and yet I have lost the energy to leave my house, the passion to work towards my goal, the enthusiasm to look forward for a new day. What is it that has changed? Why are we all consistently suffering, always stressed and forever unhappy? I think, deep down we all know the answer. Isn’t it daunting to think how social media absolutely transformed our lives? It bought miles of distances to an extend that you bedroom and even your washroom is no left longer private. Privacy is dead. And who killed it? Well we all know.
With clatter of applications, notifications, and friend request it’s become harder to differentiate between a human versus a phone. Our emotions too have become slaves to technology.
As I scroll down my Facebook newsfeed at frequent intervals, I see people going abroad to study or work; I see humans getting married to other humans and posing at exotic locations; I see #SaturdayNights and #FridayFun; I see poems, photographs, art, videos, paintings, articles, achievements, success and triumph – all of it staring at me, laughing at me, making me feel insignificant and inconsequential.
Don’t get me wrong. I am not a evil person in general nor an anti-social one.
As much happy as I am for everyone else’s feats, it all comes down to that one question – What am ‘I’ doing in life?
Am I good enough for this world? Am I strong enough to survive this competition? Have I wasted 21 years of my life? Am I missing out on all things important? Did I choose the right field? Have I made my parents proud? What is my real dream? Will I ever be able to achieve it? Do I even have an ambition? Can I make it to another day? Well, the questions never seem to end.
I visited an old friend today, the corner of her home still had that broken clock reading 4:12 am, just like it did years ago.
Now I know. What is that has changed.