‘Existential confusion’, this bomb struck me for the first time from an Amartya Sen’s book (ah, sounds so good to quote such names, although you know absolutely nothing about that book or that person and you just managed to complete it). He was explaining it in a very different sense, discussing about identity and violence and misunderstanding and the illusion of destiny (that was the title). The motive was to analyse how the world narrows its thinking while talking identities. You say the word farmer, and clap; you have that image in your head. You just tell someone about your profession or your geographical roots and in a couple of minutes a whole set up preconceived notions will be drawn around you ( arguably, which are correct seven on ten).
I’ve seen this term with a different understanding, perhaps as something which relates more to what I feel and what I see. We all live with this eternal dilemma that what is it that we are here for? This may sound futile and desolate to talk about the questions (time and time again) of the lazy, the questions of denial and disapproval, the whys and not the hows, and the sole how in the list would be ‘how does it matter at all?’. I have had the conflict within at times which entices me to disbelieve all that’s being said and all that’s being performed. If everyone is so unaware of the ultimate consequence, what is it that drives us towards everything that’s being done. The brain is a perpetual master, controlling the existence, making it all happen in such a subtle manner that all these bloody complexities dipped in the whys look so obvious and ordinary to us. Only if one can tame it, the questions would all be answered, i have a lot of self belief, and I truly know that I can’t tame it.
These days I’ve been bold, so I would pen another manuscript, ahh, it was 1200 A.D or something, don’t actually remember, but certainly nothing new or fresh, nothing as new as, ummm, what, don’t know!!!
In this world where objects move at the speed of sound,
Its surprising to see the entities swapping roles,
the human life ticks and the clock yawns,
I get confused just to verify my brain’s functioning,
and its ironical that it never disappoints me, I think,
may be I am confused, but I am not sure,
confused about myself,
my presence and my requirement,
5 cups of coffee, semi pressed formals with non-matching socks
and a pushover life,
did you ever come across such an existential confusion?