When We Forget The Simplicity

We are in a jungle; a jungle of calamity, a jungle of hurdles, a jungle of murmurs; a jungle of light & fame; a jungle of laughter; a jungle of joy; a jungle of competition; a jungle of you & me; a jungle of who-is-going-to-do-what; and a jungle of us. And every now and then, it overburdens the idea of us. It makes us forget some repeated inspiring words.

Once we realize it, we go through some internet blogs (you are here, aren’t you?). We read books. We hear the ted-talk. We listen to some motivational speaker on YouTube. Now, we finally feel uplifted; we don’t do anything but feel like doing something. In fact, we start something. Since we want to keep ourselves motivated, we start following those channels, reading those kinds of self-help books and clicking on notifications to read new fresh content.

Before we understand, it becomes our addiction. We started looking at the patterns on those videos, books and blogs and it seems that they feed us the same thing over and over with different packaging. We get sick of the idea that they made us their business. We stop following and reading all the channels, blogs and books. Adding to the repercussions of the unmotivated time, we stop doing the new thing we started because that initial excitement and enthusiasm are lost; we are lost. We cease ourselves to exist from all the online platforms. We do not want to be bothered by anyone. We like to remain unwanted.

After a few seasons of sadness, we get tired of living in the ‘igloo’. We become bored and are in real need of a saviour or a guide. We think of socializing. We call our friends or family to have a get together after a long time. The marvellous rendezvous is going well for us when we are amidst the laughter, nostalgic talks, sad stories and surprising acts.

Suddenly, we toss our memory to go back and analyse the entire episodes. While looking at some familiar and unfamiliar faces, we feel estranged. At this very moment, a strange kind of detachment hits us and the sentiment starts pouring on us like a rain but we can’t show it. So, we leave the party, go to bed, put our face on the warm pillow and cry. We cry like a baby for the first time in years. In a few minutes, the weeping drains us out. With the wet eyes and cheeks, we still wonder why we are crying in the first place. While delving into this puzzling quest, we become exhausted. We close our eyes.

We sleep, sleep like a child. We are finally in peace, probably.

We are human.

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