All problems exist in the absence of a good conversation.
-Thomas Leonard
It was more than two years since I talked to him. This time, I was on a low that was way low even for my standards. If I had to dig a hole to show you the measure of my lowliness, I would have probably touched iron and nickel present in earth’s core.
This low was not sadness, but a mere emptiness that has been part of me for quite a while now. I needed someone to talk to, someone who knew me like no-one else does. And he was that someone.
The dim-lit room was small and well furnished. It was late in the night, and I could hear dogs barking from somewhere far. I went near the grilled open window to see if I could see the dogs, but there was nothing there than chillingly cold breeze and emptiness of space. I brooded over my emptiness, and the cold breeze was making it worse. I closed the window and latched it. There was no disturbance to bother me now. Only absolute silence. The only sound I could hear was the mechanically synchronized tick of the clock telling me it was time to meet him. We were now only separated by a seemingly ordinary wooden door.
The thing about a conversation is that if you don’t have it on a regular basis you may lose the touch. I wondered if we could talk in the same way, or would the chemistry change? The only way to know was to go in. There was no turning back. I needed this conversation. I opened the door and turned on the lights.
Him- Hello.
He was there, waiting for me.
Me- Hi.
I looked at him, and found him looking straight into my eyes. He did not blink. Seemed like he could see my soul through my eyes.
Me- Stop staring at me like that!
I looked down. I could never look into his eyes when I spoke to him. That was the kind of conversation we had. I would look into his eyes when he spoke, but gazed away when I responded.
Him- Haha.
I knew him. I knew he would laugh. Like I know he will say that he would never stop doing that.
Him- I will not stop doing that. You should know that by now.
I was silent, he was silent, and there was silence for a long time. The thing I liked about him was that he knew when to keep quiet. I was with myself, and he knew that. Those awkward silent moments are the moments when one does not know what to speak, and usually ends up saying something that is generally unnecessary or unsubstantial. But we tend to do that, because silence is awkward for us. But not for him.
I was the one who wanted to speak. He was the one who was there to listen. He knew the rules of this conversation. He knew I will take my time, and he gave that to me.
Me- I am feeling low.
Him- I can see that.
Me- I don’t know why!
There was helplessness in my voice. Somehow he could gauge that. Or did he see that in my eyes? I don’t know. But when I looked at his face I could see that he saw the emotionally naked me. I was bare in front of him. There was no mask on my face. The mask that I wear on my face for different reasons. For work, for family, for friends, and for those everlasting reasons that did not matter to me now. For now I was not judged.
Him- And?
Me- I don’t know why I don’t know.
It was his time to talk.
Him- Well feeling low is OK, is it because of the weekend? You had so much time in your hands and nothing to do. So I suppose you were thinking. Were you?
Me- Yes, I was. I am.
I knew he won’t laugh at me for that. Well that’s the point of talking to him. With others I am sure they would have laughed, advising me not to think. Branding and judging me that thinking was the reason for me to get low. Though they could be right, but I didn’t need those so called advice based on their conclusions. I wanted to know the reason for myself.
Him- Well, so you are low because you were thinking? Or is it something else?
Me- I was thinking that I am not making an impact for myself. The goals that I have set for myself. The targets that I have to achieve. I don’t see it happening. Infact, I think I have not even started.
Him- What makes you think that?
Me- You know when I was small, I was thought of as the next big thing in my class. My teachers thought that I would do great one day. I was the best in studies, sports and the co-curricular activities. I was the leader of my school. I was designed for greatness. Or that’s what I thought of then.
I looked up at him. He was still looking at me. I don’t think he moved his eyes away from me ever.
Him- Thought of then? So what happened now?
The philosophical me took charge, and I responded with the most cliché response that any amateur philosopher could come up with.
Me- Life happened.
I was sinking in my own thoughts of what I had perceived myself to be and where I was now. That had brought a tear to my eyes. And I did not care to wipe it.
I am thought of as a very strong person. Well, that’s one of my many masks for the outer world. With him, I am me. Every time we meet, I have cried. Tears of sadness or joy, irrespective of what they were meant for, they flowed out. I could cry my heart out in front of him and he would not console. Forget consoling, he would not even offer a tissue. Then how could today be any different?
I cried for a while. I don’t know how much time, because neither did I wear a watch, nor did he have clock in his room. Most importantly, it made me feel better.
Me- You could have offered a tissue atleast.
He did not respond to that. I knew he would not, as I knew the precise reason of why he was like that.
Him- Doesn’t life happen to everyone?
Me- Yes. But if it is going into a routine, I don’t want to have that life.
I looked into his eyes. He looked confused. Was it something I said?
Him- Well I am a bit confused here. Who pulls the thread of your life?
Me- Me
Him- Then whom are you complaining to?
I was quiet. I had no answer to that. So here I was talking to him about my life, and essentially reaching a point in discussion where I was complaining to him about the quality of my life, which was under my control. Or was it?
Me- Is my life under my control?
What a dumb question to ask. But then that’s what questioning is all about. That’s what reasoning is all about. There are no dumb questions. There are no intelligent questions. We should leave them only as questions, and should not add adjectives to it. Adding adjectives could demotivate the person asking that question. It could potentially stop that point of view from ever being shared.
Me and Him. We shared the same views on this. So I was in a safe zone.
Him- Well, I cannot answer that. All I can say is one’s life should be under one’s control. If it’s not, then what’s the point having all this intelligence? There is a possibility that one’s life is controlled by something else. But to let that happen or not is again one’s choice.
Me- I want to control my life.
Him- That answers your first question. You want to control it means you are not yet in control.
It was that eureka moment for me. Something inside me realized what I had just said. The whirlwind of thoughts in my head had found its calm.
He could feel this too. There was a smile on his face. There was a smile on my face too.
Me- Will that make me feel happy? Will that fill this void that I am feeling?
This was a deep question. This was a curious question. And I was looking right at him.
Him- I wish I could answer that. Why don’t we start by you taking charge of your life back again? One step at a time,sounds good?
He was right. My mind was at peace. I could think things through now, and anyways he was always there for me. I was in no hurry to seek answers for all my questions.
Me- Yes. Let’s take one step at a time.
Him- Ok, let’s make it our resolve. Say it with me. I am in charge of my life.
I looked at him. Straight into his eyes this time.
Him and Me- I am in charge of my life!
We kept saying this again and again and again, till we burst into laughter.
I was feeling way better. We were all smiles. We kept looking at each other for a long time after that. And something inside me made my resolve stronger.
We did not bid farewell to each other. We did not thank each other.
Ok, I never thanked him.
He was always there. But I never reached out to him. Why?
Him- Don’t forget to turn off those lights boy.
I looked at him. And we smiled together. I turned off the lights, and he was gone.
The mirror had blacked out.
I closed the wooden door of my bathroom behind me, and saw the clock hanging above my bed. It was very late. But I had nothing to worry. I had decided on things that I wanted to do the next morning.
I unlatched and opened my grilled window, and sat on my study table next to it. The next half hour I enjoyed the cold wind caressing my face. Oh! How our perspectives and feelings change. Just sometime before my mind was filled and I was brooding over the cold wind and empty night, and now I was enjoying the same company. This time I found those barking dogs too.