What happens when dreams die young? Feat. Sushant Singh Rajput

    I always wonder what happens to that dream; that person; that moment when the soul decides to go after something but couldn’t achieve it. A dream; a passion to go after something is one of the most charming things a human can do. Especially in this junky modern society where everything is cheap except for unadulterated realizations. Amid this, to gather a source of contentment, hope, a passion for something, is feasibly the only way one can maintain their sanity. But what happens when that dream dies young? What happens to that passion which dies halfway on the finishing line? What becomes of that young jubilation which could have been achieved?

    Maybe you know by now, this piece can be relevantly dedicated to one man who died on the way to achieve his dreams. He had prepared a to-do list before he reached to his last breath. But the latter breath arrived soon and took him away, while on the course to achieve that young jubilation. Dear Sushant Singh Rajput, I wish the few dreams that you were contented with, gave you the warmth which almost felt like your late mother’s hug. I wish your passion burned so hard that toxic people around you couldn’t fight that fire. I wish the reveries, to which you lived through were as magical as one feels deep in the state of euphoria. Before your light died, I hope your brighter as sunbeam's passion scattered all over the barren field. A field only you knew existed. A field of loneliness, a field of betrayal, a field of toxicity, a field of resentments. You shined so bright that something cast an eclipse on you.  

Sushant ticked 12 out of his 50 wishes

     But what of your unachieved whims? What of the innocent ideas that kept you up at night? What about your passion for astronomy? What about songs you loved? What about spreading some light and smile in this crappy milieu of ours? What about Sushant? What about…? What about…?

    I am not going to say “I miss you,” or “please come back,” I see such comments everywhere on social media and I find that rather cringy. Following his account now and liking his posts now and wishing he wouldn’t have killed himself is just whack. Because you wouldn’t have given a shit if he was living and suffering. Had he came out with his depression, you would have told him “just another celebrity craving for attention,” So don’t give me all that crap. As Anne Frank said, “Dead people receive more flowers than living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude,”

    What happens of the person who has so much life left in them, dies? What happens of the life inside of them waiting to be lived? It dies with them. The dream dies with the person. Sushant didn’t just sacrifice his breath, he sacrificed his dreams because somehow this vile world grips your neck so hard that not even your dreams can pull you back.        

Are you the center of the universe?

     

    Our mind plays tricks on us all the time. It convinces us that we are the centre of the universe. It tells us that every move of ours is being watched. It tells us that no matter what we do, we can never do enough. 

    It somehow brings us under the shadowy gaze of insignificant bystanders. Yes, insignificant is the right word for it. People know nothing about your journey. They have zero ideas about what goes inside of you. So, why let them affect you? 

    Be your own architect. F**K them. Let their opinion go to garbage. This is your life. You are the sole traveler on this path. Those bystanders you feel watched by are just passing through. They're not here to stay. 

    So, do what your core desires. Do what you want man! Don't you see the power of your will and desires? All the adventures are waiting to be discovered. All the designs are waiting to be made by you, the architect. Don't live for the bystanders. Live for yourself. 

    Players on the ground don't play for the audience. They play for themselves. 

    Be the player.

    Play for yourself. 

    Take the reward. 

    Good luck amigo! 

Chapter 1

Part 8 

    

     

Life is a first and last experience

So many things are first and last experiences. Like birth and death.

Birth happens once.

And so does death.

On paper, birth and death look familiar. Given the fact, both occur once.

But there is a huge, contrasting disparity between these two.

At birth, the birth giver smiles (in peace), but the one born cries in surprise (sadly)

At death, the birth giver cries (sadly), but the dead lays there lifeless (in peace)

So, how does this even work?

Both are similar and at contrast at the same time.

     Makes my head spin, when I think about this. Life, as it is, in a way given to us, which cannot be used further to any logical means. Beyond what we have and what we've been given, we cannot alter it any other fashion. It is a first and last experience, and yet it is not so fulfilling at times. But what can we say, it's just an experience. And we cannot guarantee whether any given experience will be up to our expectations. But is life a fulfilling experience? Or is it not?

     Do we meet death, and say to ourselves, 'Wow, what an experience' or do we simply lie in peace. Sometimes, I don't know what to make of it.

Are we simply to accept it?

The house, the people, music, clothes, politics, intimacy, money, and other materials.

Do these sustain our life? Or do we really need them?

Do we really need anything though?

What are the pieces of baggage to be held and left alone in this first and last experience?

Chapter 1

Part 4 

The little things (Take care of them)

     

    Sometimes the means to obtain contentment or joy seems like a lot of ask. But as I have come to known, it doesn’t take a lot to be happy. Possessions, pleasure, and forgetting of the sorrow may not exactly be the way to go about it. I have been down that road a lot of times, trying to escape the melancholy and indulging in pleasures. That does not help, believe me, if not, it will only drag you further down. The only way to achieve contentment for me is in little things. One of the main is, if I know we will be having chicken for lunch/dinner that gets me in the right mood. Or when the rain pours down, as you’re in your room, and you grab a book, or play some games, or listen to the music when rain hits your window.

A couple of days ago I rode about 70 kilometers, and I felt so much joy, it made me forget about almost everything that holds me back. Today, I was coming back from Koteshwor, and the rain just poured out of nowhere. I put on my visor to shield myself from the rain. As I did, I screamed in joy, because I was just happy as the rain crashed into my body and made my existence a bit praisable. And my scream was concealed by the visor, but my entire body felt its vibration. My mind received the signal that today was a good day. My mental health probably thought, “Unlike other days, today was a good day at work,”

I guess what I am trying to say is that joy may not be in the most superficial things. It may be in the catching of breath after an intense run, or at the laugh of your favorite person (who did you think about when I said favorite person? Leave in the comments re kya. Just kidding) you don’t have to search for contentment. Most likely you won’t find it if you have to look for it.

I won’t post this link on Facebook, so if you read it on your own. I wish you all the happiness in this world.

Chapter 1

Part 3 

Thoughts of a closed door

 

Welcome to this new series. Even though I rarely have the audience for my blogs, I am confident or stupid enough to start a new series called Scribble Sunday.

            IN this series, I basically upload a blog every Sunday about the most random stuff. There will be chapters, and per chapter, there will be ten parts. And once the ten parts are done, the other chapter begins. Yes, like I said, I am either too confident or stupid. Anyways, let’s get started. Sometimes I wish I could shit post here on blogger. Like people do on Facebook and Twitter, and then I thought what are notebooks for? I will just shit write in my notebook.

            Lately, it feels as if my life is passing me by as I sit on my ass 24/7. I can’t go out and can’t do “getting off the ass” stuff, so I am stuck here like most teenagers in the room. Sometimes my confidence skyrockets, as it is right now and sometimes I am the most insecure person I have ever known. Different traits of mine are exposed as I have a lot of time for myself. There’s the angry me, smart me, fearful me, confident me, read-a-lot me, or too much screen time me. Sometimes I get this ridiculous urge to hit people up and connect with them, and then minutes later after I have started a conversation with them, I am in an absolute hurry to get out of it. So, that feels like a waste of time. And also, you shouldn’t talk with people just for the sake of talking. If you don’t have any other motive except that then it’s a waste of time. Plus, I am getting used to being by myself.

            It’s good to feel that in desperate times, your company is all you ever needed. Like I said, I have different traits, so it’s fun to explore myself.   

Chapter 1 

Part 1