Lately, it seems, I am readily and easily embarrassed by depth and sensitivity. Be it my own or someone else’s. Brooding and mulling over life’s many faces, layers and nuances are a thing of the past. Nowadays, soon as I think a thought, I feel I must speak it out loud – else I risk becoming serious, deep and dull.
What is it that frightens me about feeling, being taken over by emotions and thoughts? Why is it that I feel fragile and unable to process anything but the shallowest of sentiments?
I am beginning to realize how bendable one is when really young. Passion could twist and turn my insides, and I’d still regain my original shape like a new piece of memory foam. But now, that twisting and turning leaves lasting marks all over. Not pleasing at all.
Maybe its how we process pain as we grow older. The time it takes to heal from ever strike, is time that could’ve been spent on some mundane chore or performing some unimportant task that suddenly becomes the raison d’etre for your existence.
Maybe its not about being dull and boring. Maybe I’m shallow because I’m too inflexible and old to process pain effortlessly.
(c) VedicVerses (Rucha Gokhale)