A heavy heart

My heart feels heavy. I keep getting back to my limits. It feels like this world is a marathon, to be free from it, I must run it. Complete it. I must run it like nobody has ever run it before, because the way I function nobody does.

This sense of individuality has caused such motivation, such joy and industry- it is no wonder that it can cause me so much pain too. I ignore my pain. I do my best to remain clear, to remain positive. Yet sometimes in the process I begin to think the opposite of positive is negative, but it can also be emptiness.

There is only emptiness. There is only a cup. Sometimes it has milk in it, sometimes water. It is painful when I begin to call it a milk-cup. Then when there is water, I have conflict.

My breathing feels heavy. It feels a kind of sadness that immobilises me. I am grateful for this, else I would have mobilised into avoiding this. I cannot run away from you, can I? Even if I may feel running away would be better for you, it is false. You only wish to be heard. So let me sit with you and feel this.

It is pain. My past relationship hurts me. It is not that someone broke my heart. I broke my heart. As I always have. Out of ignorance. Do I wish I knew these lessons before? It is impossible. It is like after discovering fire, man had to get burnt to know fire is hot. How can you learn these things? People tell you, books give you ideas but ultimately, only experience teaches.

I have experienced a lot. It has not been a simple road. The places, people and my outlooks have all changed. This sadness and pain, they feel like the one experienced after a long journey. It hurts even though the eyes have seen so much, the ears have heard so much, the mind has learnt so much, the heart has felt so much. The heart, it feels tired in this moment. It feels alone and heavy.

This is not the first time. Each time, my methods of responding to it have changed. This time, I try something new. Breathe through it. Let the heart speak. Let myself listen. Such a lovely heart.

I feel alone, even though today was the day I interacted with people the most in long. I wish to get familiar with this. I like this. I like anything that clears my mind, and this is not anxiety. This is just heaviness, and it clears my mind.

I cannot remember much of the relationship. It feels like a different person did it. It was someone else who has lived these past few years. I wonder where I lost myself:

Was it when we transferred from Nashik?

Was it when I got put into boarding school?

Was it when I left for Finland?

Was it when I did not pursue United World College, or another exchange year as I had wished?

Was it when I came back?

Was it when I left home?

Was it when I went to the US and dropped out?

Was it when I did not go to Europe?

Was it when I came to Bangalore?

When was it? I know boarding school shattered you, that was the first experience of anxiety. That was the first experience of stress. Why was I put into it? So that I could toughen up? Why do we ask our children to toughen up? When must we deliberately put them under pressure in the fear of them being weak? I came back home. A buffer. Then toward the end of 10th grade, I began to feel once more this anxiety.

I have seldom understood myself. This anxiety was a call I did not know to recognize. Should I have known better? Can I blame those around me if they too did not know what this was? I cannot. At least I do not wish to.

I left for Finland, this was a period of stress. Next months too were novel, but stressful. I became stronger. But before I reached the breaking point my family changed. Another buffer. They were a great help.

Then I came back. No novelty to be a buffer this time. No people who understood me this time. No buffers. I reached the point, where I suspect we think a boy has toughened up. I became strong. And all I wished to do with this strength was abandon the people who thought me weak, myself included. I wished to burn this world down and wreak havoc unto myself. The world told me my entire life that I was special, and I wished to destroy myself. I wished to take away something it thought special. But it did not seem to care. What does one do in such a situation?

How much can a child cry to deaf ears? How much can he survive? The guilt of privilege was strong, but do I not bleed the same? Why should our minds be different? Yes, I was sensitive but look at me now numbed into oblivion. It feels like I am Wall-E. This world of mine has gone into ruin. But I have found a tiny plant. This is my soul. This is me. This is all of my essence. Everything else is trash.

This plant must be protected each moment, because too much of the world is trying to destroy it. Looking at the world, I learnt its ideals at the cost of my own. My innocence, goodness and compassion all feel lost. Yes, I think I lost myself after Finland. I let go of myself. I am sorry for that. None of the if I did not lose it I would not have found it crap. I am sorry. So much of my years I spent apologizing to the world and never myself.

Now, my heart confronts me with the pain I have caused. It confronts me with the fact I abandoned it. All I hope is to earn forgiveness. All I think each day is how can I make my way back to it. I look and look for ways to not fail this time. I will not fail this time. It feels like if I fail this time I will lose myself forever.

What is the right way? How can I learn the lesson that fire is hot in the fastest manner? There seems to be no method. There is nothing to do, except wait for opportunities to come to reclaim myself. Each day I wish to be alert, and not miss a single chance to serve myself like Hanuman for Ram. I envy Hanuman’s love for Ram. I envy it because it is not something that can be learnt, only felt by my heart. I wait. One day, I will catch up. Then I wish to compete with Hanuman in his love, strength and humility.

The heart is heavy and the mind is empty. Not even tears to distract. Sit with my pain. Befriend it. Become comfortable with it, love it even. When else should one be the most loving, if not when confronted with pain? This world is in pain. I wish to pull it out.

The argument of people need to go through pain will no more stand. It is laziness. How arrogant can one be to assume their effort will succeed in alleviating pain? It may not. All that matters is the thought- and when I had myself, this thought is all that I had. To love the world.

And the same world had made me question it until a point I let it go. It was like an alcoholic friend resisting effort not only to a point where I gave up on him, but also became an alcoholic. Beware of logic and reason, they can twist anything. Trust only love. Because that is all that I had.

I read my old poems. All about love. I sneered at them until yesterday. I sneered at them because I took up the world’s values. But yesterday, in a moment where I was lost, it felt like those words were destined. They were simple and plain. They acknowledged the pain of the world but did not give up on it. It was the most sincerest thing I have ever seen. After everything that has happened, I come back to this. Nothing is more important. No achievement, no relationship and no thought. Except that of love and a desire to help the world.

Please open the door. I am sorry. Please let me in once more and never leave.