He sits there on the park bench as people go jogging by. There is no mild calming breeze, no colourful birds chirping glorious songs , no fragrant flowers dancing in all their bloom; it’s normal. In Beckett’s words, the sun shone, having no alternative, over nothing new. He wonders why there were so few songs or poems on these moments. The moments of no glamour. The silent melancholic rut called life…
As he walked home alone that day, quietly away from the clinic, his own thoughts confused him. This was supposed to be the best news he could possibly get, yet somehow he wasn’t happy. Two weeks ago he had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and given less than a year to live.Today his doctor had told him that it was a misdiagnosis and that with a prescribed dose he would be better, live a full life… You’re perfectly normal, were his exact words.
Normal is a strange word. All our childhood, we are taught and molded to be normal- bribed with toys, threatened with a few beatings , instructed how to fit into the crowd. Yet, there comes a point in every life , where we crave to be something beyond normal. Most often it is love. You fall in love with an art, a job, a person- anything. And then, this loves makes you crave to be something beyond normal, to be- special.
The irony of his life was that he had started living the moment he started dying. All his life he hadn’t fallen for anything. The things that made him feel special were not the paintings he drew or the woman he loved, but the impending sense of doom brought by death. He had gone on mountain treks,tried ice skating,had tons of street food, even booked a ticket to Ladakh… tried to fill as much life as possible into the days that remained. Now that he was living, now that he was normal, he could go back to what normal people do.
He sits there on the park bench as people go jogging by. Moments of a normal life, silently just passing by.
If you could live an eternity and not change a thing or exist for the blink of an eye and alter everything, what would you choose?