My search for questions

We are constantly hunting for answers; from the beginning of our life to its very end. In school we are forced to seek formulas that can solve perplexing math equations, skip to adulthood and we look to demystify love, passion and ambition.

Unfortunately, in my case, I haven’t yet come across the solutions. I still don’t know why the girl of my dreams left. I don’t understand where exactly my tennis career crashed and burned. I don’t even know why I can’t get along with my own family when I am at ease with sinners and saints alike.

So it occurred to me let’s stop looking for answers (just for a brief moment). They are evasive. Instead, I decided to ask myself a million questions; questions that define my values, ideals, leanings; my very being. And I came across some interesting facts that were right in front of me but unseen like the trapdoor from which a magician vanishes. Perhaps we need to focus on the right questions and the answers will present themselves.


I asked myself what I wanted to do with my life. The answer was staring at me. I always wanted to write a book that was sincere, heartfelt and moved the readers to tears and laughter.

Why was that important? Writing is sacred to me. I don’t scribble to please anyone, for monetary gains, fame or need for survival. I do it because it gives me joy. Lessons 1# always do something that gives you joy.

What kind of a person am I and how different is it from what I aspire to become? I reminded me of Yogi Uncle’s devotion to becoming a better human, Shikha’s sincerity, Kazi’s kindness, Abhinaya’s zest and Gursheen’s simplicity. I realized I didn’t want to be the brooding, moody person that I had become.

The most difficult of all the questions was love. With the best of intentions, I have tried and failed repeatedly and I have absolutely no clue where I went wrong. I draw a blank. Perhaps this was an invalid question. Things didn’t work out because they were not supposed to work out. There is no answer, no explanation to it.

It reminded me of a quote from Ruskin Bond, “I loved someone. Someone loved me. Both loves were unrequited. Life moved on.

The only thing to do when someone leaves is to ask them to leave the door open behind them, turn of the music, listen to the quiet whisper and say thank you for stopping by.

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