Imperfections

Posted on October 1, 2019
Last Edited on October 2, 2019
7 mins read
Tags: writing life

Gradients
Gradients


Imperfections shape us. Imperfections follow us around wherever we roam. And it is always entailed by the struggles in our lives. Struggles shape us too, how we are brought up, how we coped up with troubles in terms of finance, education or other needs. I guess life’s always in a loop for me and my family. There are a lot of issues with each and every family, as an individual or collectives as a whole. You have your own set of issues. But tonight, once again, I am feeling like crying out.

I know life is synonymous to miseries and struggles that are shaping us constantly, like a rock in the middle of the wild stream. But why is it that these struggles aren’t pacified by the constant hard work we are doing? That’s the question me and my family keep on asking ourselves, unheard by the world around. And it’s these times that really question if this keeps on going indefinitely.

Yesterday. All my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay.
The lyrics are echoing in my headphone right now. I feel like crying. I am crying. We have always struggled financially, and among these struggles that surmount to ever-increasing grief and sadness, I want to find temporary happiness and smile. We want to smile without any deception. But that’s not going to happen anytime soon. I wish I could express my emotions and feelings to my parents and my siblings. Today me and my mother recalled our past, and how it still hasn’t improved. I could see tears running down. I wish I could do anything. I know she has struggled a lot. We have been through a lot. As an elder child, I feel helpless right now.

We have always ran short of money. I know my father did few mistakes in the past, but right now I can see him doing tremendous of hard-works. He doesn’t stay with us. He’s working outside this city, all alone. And I can imagine a man in his late 40s, working alone the whole day to earn money, because he knows “money” is the only thing that can contribute to the majority of his happiness, for him and his family. I can imagine my father coming to his room late at night, making dinner for himself and getting tucked away to bed all alone. I know he misses us, the little things we can do to make him smile. My mother speaks sometimes that he is alone. A heart patient all stressed up just to sustain the whole family. The candle can get blown anytime. That’s the reason my primarily goal in my life is to earn enough money to sustain all of us, to end all the loans we have. At least for now. I might have my own set of other goal, which I will try to do it myself for me.

I saw tears in my mother’s face after a long time because she knows she’s struggling hard to earn from her side, yet there isn’t enough money to cope up. And I feel so helpless, as I watch my parents struggle. But I had made a promise to myself a year back that I would earn enough money within 5 years. That’s the very reason people seem to judge me as a greedy person in terms of money. People say I am frugal. That’s very correct. I feel so reluctant to even spend money on minor things. That’s how I was grown, where our family could only afford a one time meal the whole day. But, people don’t really care about these shit.

Materialistic people in materialistic world.
People aren’t willing to have a sharing to this ever-increasing sadness in my life, in our lives. Nobody cares. I know. We know. We are all on our own. That’s the very reason I had stopped going out to people from my college days. I think twice before going out on date. The insecurity of money I have while going out on dates is insurmountable. Only I know the pain and misery of this shit. On the outside people surmise that having a house in Kathmandu, with parents earning, make me rich type of guy with lavish lifestyle. But that’s just a deception and I can get it. We have never shown our miseries and sadness to anyone. Sometimes I wish I can have a very very Deep Meaningful Conversation (DMC) to someone around without having to judge me. But it’s always that people become more judgemental and reluctant to keep on the connection in later times. Maybe that’s the reason I overthink everything. And maybe that’s why I am needy in terms of another girl loving me. Maybe love can cure this depressing life. Maybe not. But it’s not going anywhere.

It’s not guaranteed that a tiger in the forest will kill you, but it’s definitely the tiger in your heart that can kill you.
The sentiment is true to itself. Few people around keep on suggesting me “tell your parents to buy a bike for you, so you don’t have to walk every fucking where”. Dear people, I can I really tell you, if we had the courage to buy that thing, we wouldn’t even have to worry about minor issues in life. That’s that. I just let it be.

It’s been a very long time (most probably 4+ months) I have been without a job, and as an elder child, an elder sibling, and as an individual, I am becoming more unstable mentally. Different aspects of life are running in parallel — in my personal life, in my family, and vaguely my love life. And I don’t want anyone to have a common sharing to this saddening life. That’s why I want to get out of this country as soon as possible to really earn something for the whole.

Life’s harsh.
I know. We all know. And among these struggles in my own life, existential crises don’t do justice either. It’s like stabbing me in my back, when I am already hanging on a noose around my neck. How I wish I had someone close to share these things. There are few and they are all busy in their own struggles. I know I am crying. I had a very serious conversation with my sister today about these shit — how we are all having troubles. And how we have to be miser for sometime now. I know she is in her early 20s (a little younger than me), and I get it that she has her own set of desires in her personal life. But that’s that. We just have to keep on holding onto this invisible ladder, just barely climbing up from the pit. Someday, we will get out of the pit and will realize that there is a whole universe of pits that surround us. And among those, we have to keep on moving on. Maybe that’s the reason I will be going under isolation again, not meeting any people now. I have to let go of my romantic shit too (that’s a whole another story for later time).

I guess these are the things that shaping my habits too. I have started smoking sometimes when I get mentally unstable. Once a week. Or once few weeks. I know it’s not good. But what can be done? I haven’t really got the kind of love I deserve from the people around. And it renders me so helpless that sometimes I have this sudden impulse of thinking about suicide. That’s depressing. I am planning to go to a therapist in a week or two. Maybe these are the very reasons, I want to be loved romantically by another girl. That’s not going to happen I know. Not in this life. I have been a late-bloomer — a guy full of insecurities on every aspect of life. People seem to, again, judge me on this too. Guys, girls. Everyone. And sometimes thinking about these judgemental aspects, I feel sad. I know I don’t really care about judgments most of the time. But when I am very very low, I feel sad even on minor things. Maybe that’s human nature. Most of the time I act with maturity with every situation. But, sometimes this late-bloomer part of my life backfires and people back off from the connection, find my behavior unattractive. I have been told that the world isn’t some magic place, a fairy tale. I know that. And I don’t have to get reminded of it time and again, especially from the people I value the most. Moreover, I don’t want love to be another salt on these wounds. But I guess, that has also backfired. I let it be.

I tend to take everything as an inspiration. The urge to do more in life, than just be a piece of small stone in the middle of the street. And these thoughts might be dry later, but it’s really wet right now. Truest of feelings from an introvert guy whose default facial expression doesn’t do justice to ever-increasing thought processes in his mind-cave. How I wish time would heal these things. If only…

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