Today I was thinking about passion in my life. Or rather the lack of it.
My gender is so horrendously outnumbered, that we have very less exposure to everything. We kinda shrink into our own worlds, where there is more of monotony than anything else. Fostering a passion is generally considered abnormal. Being abnormal is considered insane. But you know what? I love being abnormal, because I know I am. I am insane according to healthy human standards. I am frustrated about life in my own kinda way. I am gratified about it in my own ways. Happiness for me a momentary state of mind. Long-term goals are an obvious no-no.
Basically, I am an observer, of things happening around me. Of these co-inhabitant homo sapiens. Yeah! I love to drown myself, observing these people. Whenever I see a new face on the street, all I want myself to be doing is to run to that person and ask him, “ will you tell me your story, your history?” I know that could mean being beaten up. I would also wanna ask, “ will you pose for my camera?, I wanna capture this moment, when I became a witness to the happenings of your life?” I would never get bored/impatient waiting for someone or something at a busstop/cinema/café’ shop etc etc. all I do is sit/stand quietly and merge myself with the background, and dissolve myself observing…
So we conclude that “observing” is one of the passions of my life. And I do have other passions like grabbing hold of any readable material. And writing. Off late, blogging. Biting my nails is another. And staring into the dark is next. Plus who doesn’t die to go for long walks (preferably alone)?