Aren't We All Delusional?

It is 11:13 pm and I have setup my bed to sleep. I am half asleep. My eyes are watery (as they usually are in the cold) and my eyelids, my eyelids are tired; tired of not work or study, but of something else I don't know about; they are tired of wondering maybe. Is that a thing? Something strikes and I wake up, switch on the light and open my laptop, to write.

I had watched a movie today. 

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I have this long list of awesomely superb movies that my very close friends have suggested me to watch, keeping in mind who I am as a person. When they ask me if I have watched any of those, I never answer in the affirmative. Today when I wanted to watch a movie, I did open that long list of movies. But then instead I Google the following, 'movies like Masaan'. Movies like Masaan fascinate me. An article pops up about Indian movies which are internationally credited but less acclaimed in India. My mind passes a sarcastic comment, "Ah! the usual!" Among the list of movies that this article very beautifully describes, my eyes fall upon '15 Park Avenue' by Aparna Sen. I type the same on Youtube and start watching it. Now that I carry the luxury of having a decent phone, I lie on my bed, put the phone comfortably on a book beside my pillow against the wall, switch off the lights, put on the clothes I am most comfortable in, take on my warmest blanket and start watching. 

15 Park Avenue is about a girl who has schizophrenia. I have no clue why watching or reading about women and knowing their various psychological beings amazes me. Maybe because it is in these diverse beings, I feel closest to myself than I could ever be anywhere or with any person. In fact, all the books and movies and songs which I vividly remember are about women and men from 'unusual' backgrounds; mentally, physically, sexually and psychologically. 

A while ago, a friend asked me, "Have you seen Kung-Fu Panda?" I remarked a bit shyly, "No". My mind wondering, "So many people have told me that it is amazing. Why haven't I watched it yet? What is wrong with me?" I wonder why I have no clue of the finest award winning most liked movies and books and songs. You will never see me participating in discussions about movies and books and songs which are like the ones I should have seen or read or heard. I wonder why. Instead I sometimes watch 'Life, Lafde aur Bandiyan' on Bindass when I am not watching or reading or listening to "my genre" of movies or books or songs. I wonder why. I am sure I am not the only one. May be some day I will know what this genre is called and may be that day I will find more lost souls like me.

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I admire so many people in my life. As I wonder more, I realise that all of them have one trait in common - they have a very simple zest for knowing life; a very ordinary one. The world may see them as extraordinaries, but they aren't. They are as one should be, just being. In contrast, to me, all other people seem extraordinary. May be that is why I relate more to the ordinary ones. My favourite is Natasha Badhwar - a woman of simple, graceful and powerful thoughts.  Today I read her  article, Simple is Harder than Complex. You should read this.

I am making very little sense I know. And I am so not penning down my thoughts chronologically. I don't really care. This is my blog. These are my thoughts. I am not forcing anyone to read these. But I am not writing this blog post just because I have watched a movie and I have these diverse dancing thoughts in my head ("as usual", my heart remarks amusingly). I want to convey a very crucial point here. Yes, a very crucial one.

Every person we meet or every situation we are in, which may be as simple as watching a movie,  has this powerful capacity to teach us something and sometimes even alter the course of our lives by leaving everlasting impressions, only if we give all of ourselves to that moment or to that person. My friends say I am amazing at multi-tasking. But I know that even though when I may appear to be multi-tasking, I am doing only one thing at a time. So for instance, I switch off the mobile data while walking to college because I want to listen, yes listen to the world around me. People say you can instead talk to your family or friends, I don't know what to answer to them. No, I am not being sarcastic here. I really don't know. But I do feel bad when people can't give all their selves to a moment or a person which or who forms an important part of their lives. We lose a big bit of life each time we do this under the impression that we are 'living life' and that 'those moments, those tiny moments of life' will come again. They won't. Sad. The movie taught me this.

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The movie ends on a very curious note. After watching it, I surfed for the discussion about the movie on online forums and found a very interesting comment at one of the forums - When Meethi found her home, we seemed to have lost it. This clicks something! We live in our own world of beliefs. Sometimes, when the popular belief is contrary to the one what we believe in, we tend to take that as real. Why? I wonder ("lots of wonderings lately, you need to stop", my heart remarks again, with a little bit of force this time).

I am delusional. I want to stop human trafficking when the majority says that it is unachievable. It may be. I respect your beliefs. But I can't take that as my belief. I am delusional. To the extent we live our everyday lives, we all are delusional in some sense. Some people believe that the one they love loves them back, some people believe that earning more money will buy them happiness, some people believe that there exists Santa Claus. It is okay to be delusional. We don't have to shy away from it. Think about it!

For me, being delusional also means having full control and freedom over my mind and soul; the kind that is limitless. I know I can never make anything, any work or any person the centre of my universe. This is because there is nothing or no one in this entire big world where or with whom I feel to be 'found', completely. 'Being found completely' is the key here. Sometimes I think that I have but no, I haven't. This is because there are these tiny moments, those tiny lapses of time when only I am there for myself, when I close myself to the entire universe and no one sees through that closed me under the veil of who I pretend to be (I am sorry to all those I let believe that they can see through me completely). It is in those moments I realise the existence of a powerful force that resides inside me, the force which flows flawlessly without any expectations or hope or beliefs. The one which moulds itself as per my delusions ("you are extremely weird. I don't think you are making any sense even to yourself", my heart jumps again in the middle of this conversation). As I have no control over the rising and setting sun, so do I have no control whatsoever on this force that resides inside me.  

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Sometimes we discard people believing that they are unusual or unique or weird, especially the ones with any mental disability. Aren't we all weird and unusual and unique? This reminds me of a short yet the most beautiful stint at a psychological ward of a Government shelter home in India. I met some of the most lively souls there. One girl always wore a red dupatta for some reason and she never said anything, another one could not hear or speak but she always carried a divine smile that I am never forgetting my entire life, and yet another one just told her stories to everyone with some addresses and contact details which did not even exist. 

Sometimes my heart would burn like fire when I saw some of the shelter home staff making fun of them. As time passed by, I realised that all these "weird and unusual" women needed is someone to listen to them. As I sat with them listening to their "delusional" stories, watching their divine smiles, I knew they are having the hardest time dealing with not just the world outside them, but also the one that resides inside them. It would be a gross overstatement to state that I understood them. No, I didn't. I cannot. Yet, now when I think about them, I just smile because they were delusional. And this made them more free than I could ever be.

I know that not much of this will make any sense. So, I will now just slip into the oblivion of the sky through my window and leave you all to reflect and think - how are you going to find yourself when you don't want to be found?

Until next time,

Dont stop wondering!

Love, 

Pankhuri :-)

(Taking one step every day to be a little more honest with myself about who I am to me.)