3 Minutes Read
Sitting in the toilet, holding The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck in one hand and scratching the mosquito bites with another(see, literally not giving a fuck to mosquitoes or the scenario I am writing here) when suddenly an idea pops into my head. You see, I have always been fascinated by the idea of death. I often think about the death of my closed ones, how that would affect me and how much loving I should be towards that person. No matter my anger or my bitter emotions towards them, they vaporise as soon as I think about it. The chapter I was reading was Mark talking about Death. He wanted to make a point that it's necessary to think about your own death to bring your life into perspective. These Self Help books tend to talk about these things to you. Stephen Covey in his 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, asks the reader to literally imagine the reader's funeral and picturize what his family, friends and people who knew him say about him. I instantly thought of that. My mind quietened down a little as I tried to do the same. I couldn't picture my own death. My legacy or any value I could ever leave in this world. But something else did come up. I imagined myself, sitting in a theatre, looking at myself on the big screen(yes, shitting, at that point). The events of the day rolled. How I have lived my past few days rolled. I wondered ,"Is this the kind of movie you like, Aastikya?" Days are the same. Nothing is changing. Have you ever seen those scenes in movies where the main character suddenly goes into Hyperlapse and everything is moving so fast around him that you can't fathom, but he is still, in expressions, while his body changes rapidly. A twenties something boy, just sitting and growing; wrinkles growing on his forehead, beard grows exponentially, then it turns white and he grows balder and balder. By the end of it all, his expressions still the same, his appearance changes so much that he looks like a meek old man, on his last breaths. That's how I imagined myself, yes, while still in the toilet. We Indians called it Shauchalaya, and jokingly say, it's a place where people think. Not incorrect apparently.
What if you, just sitting or standing where you are right now, could imagine yourself the same way. Comfortably sitting, alone in a theater. A projector projecting the white light on the screen and your entire life flashes in front of you. Which events would you cherish? What regrets would you have? What stories would you have you created? Is this how you wanted it? Is this the movie you wished for yourself? Believe it or not, I have the script ready in my mind, consciously and mostly unconsciously and it's playing that way, for the good or for the bad. Call it what you may, Vision, Spiritual Pathway, The Divine Road, Luck, whatever, it plays out exactly how you believe it to be.
Now, let me stop trying to sound like a smartass here, because I am not, and mostly because I am not sure what point I am trying to make in the entire post other than that, once in a while, you should imagine yourself as a movie and question if the movie is any good.
Well, that's all for my musing right now.
Until next time.