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What is Missing?

The unpredictability of life ironically guarantees that the universe often delivers to you what you need in the most surreptitious of ways and then sneakily watches you go about your day, none the wiser, all the while laughing at you for not realising that what you have been asking for has just been dropped into your lap.

This seems to have happened to me, more than once, on a recent trip to Mumbai. While I was pleasantly surprised at some of the things I did manifest, I feel rather grateful to have found something I didn’t even know I was missing - inspiration. It arrived in the unlikely form of reconnecting with an old acquaintance from college, one I never thought I would be friends with, largely because of a mutual indifference caused by misunderstandings.

So it came as a surprise when we randomly started connecting over each other's somewhat controversial posts on social media, and having conversations on topics that would mostly invite not only the opposing points of view from mine, but also the suggestion to stop discussing the subject altogether so as to not engage in a heated and potentially friendship-altering debate. In this day and age of cancel culture with people getting offended at the drop of a hat, I was able to have a real discussion with him and get real insights in to opposing points of view, without either party taking offence to the other's perspective. I had missed having an intellectual sparring partner, and being able to discuss things logically without merely participating in the outrage that surrounded a topic of interest was refreshing.

And so while in Mumbai, this person and I caught up over a pleasant lunch, and discussed things I actually cared about for a change, peppered with college gossip of course. Among the many subjects visited that afternoon, we talked about our shared love for writing, and how we wanted to write more and frequently. The lunch also served as a healthy dose of how people perceived me as a conversationalist, because for the first time in my life, I was conversing with someone who did not shut up long enough for me to actually get a word in!

Not long after I returned to Bangalore, he shared with me some of the pieces he had written. Upon reading them, to say I was blown away, would be an understatement. Although prose, his sentences flowed poetically; there was imagery, despondency and romanticism in the carefully chosen words. It was like Robert Frost writing prose.

That is when I realised that The Passengers knew a thing or two about yearning. You only know you're missing something when you experience the absence of it. It struck me that I had been reading mediocre writing, unnoticed, until I read good writing again. Worse, as a result of consumption of mediocre literature, my own writing had taken a tremendous hit. On re-reading some of my previous pieces, I was disappointed, though not altogether shocked, to find that my "creative" writing was creative no more and instead had degraded to glorified journal writing.

It should come as no surprise that I struggle with over-achiever perfection anxiety, and therefore lack motivation when I do not immediately excel at something. It was even more soul-crushing to admit that my writing skills were not all that I imagined them to be. Considering my obsession with perfection and the ridiculously lofty standards I set for myself, this epiphany was a truly destabilizing moment, and it took tremendous self-restraint to not immediately delete every post I had published on my blog to wipe away the embarrassment of such sub-par writing. But embarrassment and failure are the building blocks of success, so instead of obliterating the entirety of my blog, I chose to retain the drivel as a reminder of what comes out when shit goes in.

I often wonder how long it would have taken me to realise that my writing had been steadily deteriorating if I had not met this man or read his work. My interactions with him have served as reminders that I am capable of more, of better. In fact, writing is not the only facet of my life that I have been forced to reassess because of him. I have since had other rather eye-opening conversations with this person. Each time, these talks ended up busting a belief I held or giving me a new perspective on something I thought I had resolved; each time, I think about the life lessons I would have missed if I hadn't taken the opportunity to reconnect with this person because of a decade old misplaced and misjudged prejudice.

 

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