They come less frequently now, these fits. I remember listening to endless hours of ENIGMA under their spell when in school, but these days work usually keeps them away. There is this ever present feeling of breathlessness, anxiety, ticking of the clock, dripping of the sand in the hour glass, that there isn’t enough time to do all that must be done. What is to be done, though, I haven’t the slightest clue. Mine is already a life driven not by goals or even desires but by what others are doing. I don’t not know what I want to do, and therefore must do everything that everyone else is doing to stay in the race to dozen unseen finish lines.
The fear of being left behind is too much to bear, even when I realize that the race is one in which ai don’t care to run. The prospect of losing, hidden behind the excuse of keeping my options open, is too grim to contemplate. All of them are my compatriots aren’t they? Then why should I not do all that they are doing? If they are reading 3 books at the same time, I can do it. If they are getting papers published and going abroad for higher studies, I can too. If they have IIM calls, I must obtain those. And beneath all this, an ever-present tiredness, a panting whisper which acknowledges the impossibility but still wants more time.
I wonder if I will still feel these things in the future. Will I have the occasion to remember these remembrances when the bustle of a mundane life has overtaken me? If I don’t, then will some part of me have died, for if there are only two halves of my personality, then what is it that stands apart and observes both of them in my moments of sanity?
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