Friday 31 August 2012

On Being Nobody


It seems I am having a prose streak that which is rather personal. For this is the second consecutive prose piece I’m writing and the last good poem I wrote was nearly four months ago.

Anyway, onto the topic. On Being Nobody.

First off, it's not easy. Everybody -- well, almost everybody -- tends to be somebody. Somebody with some uniqueness. With some sort of individuality. It is very difficult to shed the shell of your self. But believe it or not, being nobody comes to me as easily and naturally as breathing.

I am a regular guy. To be frank, I am so regular that I tend to belong to to the lowest possible rungs of mediocrity. I follow a routine that is as monotonous as it can be. And by doing so, I miss out the variety that life has in store for me everyday. True to my self description in this blog, all I do is "I read, I listen, I think and I write." Nothing more, and most certainly, nothing less.

I suck at the art of making friends. In fact, I suck so much so that at times I wonder if I produce a pheromone of some sort which repels people. Just as how I have written in one of my earlier poems, Reflection, people befriend me fast but then, soon, they drift away. Or maybe it's me, I am not entirely sure. In the 18 years I have been alive and thriving, I've made a pathetic three relationships which I can say with some certainty, are friendships. It has been over a month for me here at EFL-U and still I haven't found someone to call a friend.

Which brings me to my next point.

I don't dream. It seems that I don't have the ability. The reason why I decided to join BA(Hons) English is really laughable. English was the one and the only subject that I thought I could study after +2. In deciding so, I never thought of what I would do after the degree. I lack a strong, hard-core passion in one particular area. I'm more of a surface guy. A jack of all trades, but a master of none. A cynic who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing. A layer of dust. Flimsy.

This is another reason why I alienate people fast. I don't have any common interest to share. And thus am I left, forever alone.

I don't live. I exist. But sadly, my existence doesn't matter to anyone or anything but me. Remove the entity labelled Vysakh from the paradigm of this universe, and nothing, not a single thing, would alter. I'm like a sheet of glass, held against the Sun.

It often makes me wonder, that who will cry when I die???

8 comments:

  1. Thats too sad a poem, mate :/ Well-written..make no mistake about that..but it does generate an air of negativity, doesnt it?

    Smile! :)

    If you are reading this, chances are you are alive. There's no better reason to smile about! ;)

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  2. oops not poem....*post

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  3. Its not that I don't smile. But at times, it feels god to brood :)

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  4. I find it hard to believe that you are a 'nobody' :)

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  6. Everyone: I admit that I wrote this post when I was thoroughly depressed due to some reason and posted it in a haste. Even I don't think that I am a nobody.. :) :)

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  7. It takes a lot of guts to write down what exactly u feel AND to post it. I liked it :)

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  8. @Sharon: Thank you. Although I must repeat that this post came in the spur of a moment. :)

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