why this?

This whole ‘lost in the wilderness of Mumbai’ thing. I see no joy in this. I feel frustrated. I feel like I am some china doll kept on a window display. Every idiot who walks by can stare at me.

I don’t understand why did I pick Mumbai? Why not Musorrie, or Mohanagar or Mangalapuram? Why am I torturing myself in this crowded city? Why am I living in this 10’ x 8’ room with nine other people? Why did I travel 1500 kilometers from home to stay in some cramped up room with truck drivers and not have a clue what my next step would be?

I experientially know that pain is very instructive. The mental trauma involved in confronting problems is very educative. It’s all towards the higher purpose of making me stronger, wiser and more experienced to handle life. Borrowed this entire philosophy from The Road Less Traveled. And yet, on some days when I wake up, all this seems like such senseless self torture. There is no direction that I am going in. There is nothing that I am driven towards. This existence of mine is as meaningless as the one before. This is some kind of watch-myself-walk-over-hot-coals syndrome.

Climbing up hill is no fun if there is no down hill to roll down on. One can’t always swim against the tide. I need my down hills too. I need easy times too. I need some rewards stacked up against my ‘risks taken’ column.

Today I am confused, disappointed and perhaps even somewhat disillusioned.