IT IS WHEN I AM NOT
Letting go of the noise, embracing the self.
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The drive is over.
I have lost interest in the Internet of Things.
Like a child abandoning a toy after dissecting every bit and pieces.
This is the new comfort zone. Uninterestedness.
I don’t feel like making up to present myself in front of the people online.
I have left the station on my corporate blog and joined in here.
To be more informal. To be more like me.
Home.
I am not particularly interested in telling and selling.
So, I am deliberately attempting to stop sugar-coating things.
To present something like this, I am surprised and excited. About anything in life anymore.
I am happy, and that is enough.
You can read this blog, which means you are an adult.
I am not interested in handing out ideas on how to live life.
Then why am I here? Why am I writing this?
There is something that is not giving up in me.
Like a beginning waiting for an end of current occurrence.
Since childhood, I felt like I would bring myself up to the excellence.
I was aspirational. But my idols were broken.
Every famous person I admired was broken inside.
Frida, Freddie, and so many.
But not everyone is privileged for their pain and suffering to be acknowledged.
I am too old to ask for it anyway. It’s not about the age. Everyone deserves love.
It’s about the maturity in understanding that you might have or not have audience and attention.
And that’s okay.
I want to look away from the broken idols of misery and victimhood.
A creative expression does not have to be a decoration of fear, anxiety and sadness.
It can be about nothing in particular. Not even nothingness.
You might be thinking, what is the point in writing this post I don’t care for the attention.
And you are right about it. I don’t care anymore.
The phenomenon of life humbles me.
I write and read daily and sell Vada Pav in the market by dusk.
I meet many people online and offline throughout the day.
The only thing I am sure about is that every person pursues life from a unique perspective.
Not everyone will have the same feeling about what I write online.
My Vada Pav tastes different for every person.
It has the same content but a different perception.
That is why I am not hopeful about the audience.
I don’t demand attention with flashy headlines like “Do this now, get this instantly”
If there is anything I have to say to anybody, it would be do nothing.
If I had a choice, I would have done nothing all day.
I sleep like a baby and enjoy my tea in the garden.
But I wake to write so that I can do nothing the rest of the day.
It happens.
I don’t have concepts about the grim reality of life and structures to stand my stature on.
I write what I feel at the very moment.
Sometimes, it comes out to be about simple things in life and sometimes about seemingly significant subject.
Like the cosmos and our place in it.
And I adapt to these tides of life. Sometimes, I am high on life, deep in spirit.
Sometimes, I am as silent as the depths of the ocean, and sometimes, I am shouting my guts out to sell Vada Pav.
It’s called life. It encourages and discourages.
What matters is that you face it with courage.
Thinking about the multidimensional life adds to the confusion.
I understand that to write about something, I write to understand something.
This will keep on changing.
The idea of being complete in the materialistic realm is idiotic.
That is an immature expectation from life.
I am not the best blogger in the world because there is none.
The only reality is that the words I am typing are ending up in your palms.
And that is what matters.
I fiddle and search for myself in these words. But I also find you.
And that is the reason I write the blog and not a private journal.
Camaraderie.
It seems to be a life-negative thought.
But exceptions are the root of disappointment, and acceptance of this thought can be depressing for a while.
I might lose you here. I might find you.
I might or might not is what I accept.
I gives me zest to write honestly.
To tear apart pages of my innermost being and present them in front of you.
It leaves me wounded. The wound will heal.
It leaves me vulnerable. It leaves indeed, never to come back.
What comes back is more profound. It has a thousand faces and a thousand voices.
Your voice, and I love the sound of it.
I live for that sound, and I strive not for greatness but assimilation.
So the drive is over.
I don’t want to please you anymore. I want to win you.
I don’t need attention. I need you, audience.
I don’t invite you to the party, I welcome you.
There are 700,000,000 blogs on the internet,t and I cannot dare for this to be the best of all.
But I can dare to be myself. I can be brave to save myself from drowning in the flood of pretentiousness.
I am enough without the thoughts. Clear.
Nothing steers the water of my mind anymore, you can see the floor of my lake.
I have nothing to tell, nothing to sell and just want to be.
We have been trained to garner validation since our infancy.
Yes, baby, you did it! No bad baby!
But one has to look beyond those boundaries of what is acceptable and conventional.
You will have to spend money to get validation.
You will have to spare the validation to gain simplicity in life.
Life has a function, and it takes care of itself.
If you get busy interfering in it, it gets messy.
So, how about worrying less about where life is going? How can I be more productive?
And being more content about being.
Aware of something constant within us.
That is what makes you and me one.
Because the source of the limpid expressions of mind is nothing.
It is when I am not.
Meet me there.
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Originally published at https://satyajett.blog on March 3, 2025.