I have been trying to write to you for a while now. But there were a couple of problems. First, I did not know your name (or address); and second, I did not know what to write. But, the thought of writing to you has been there.
You may not realise, but you have been here, with me, all the time. You are a witness to the tragedies of this world, along with me. The world is fucked, as you would know. The ones at the top, have done nothing for appreciation, and the ones at the bottom, have got nothing for celebration. And the ones who call themselves “the common men and women” – their lives are only limited to noise generation. Which makes me wonder – What good amid these, O me, O life?
Then I hear the answer. You.
Stranger, this life is strange. One may get lonely, even in large crowds. It happens with me. And I am sure, it happens with you too. When no one understands you. No one. Not even your best of friends, or your own self. During such unbearable moments of pain and hopelessness, the thought of you always consoles me. The thought, that somewhere in this world, you are going through the same emotion – it heals me.
Talking about emotions, I have experienced many shades of them; some vivid, some plain. That’s because, I am an imperfect, vulnerable human being. And it does not bother me anymore. I am tired of presenting my perfect self to everyone I meet. The same kinds of frustration I get when others try to hide their imperfections. Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth – I say, and no one listens. One of these days, I might give up. But then… I think of you. That you are going through the same. That if I give up, you may do that too. And I don’t want that to happen.
I don’t know how wise, intelligent, or smart you are. But I know, you are little crazy, just like me. You too dance like an idiot when it rains; you too stroll around the mountains until your feet suggest otherwise; you too speak with strangers and laugh with them; you too cry when everyone expects you to be strong. But you know you are you and you stay that way, despite all the objections. You don’t change just because others expect you to, and that, in my opinion, makes you pretty special.
Who are you? A man, a woman, a kid, an oldie? Someone from the future? I don’t know, and, to be honest, I don’t want to. None of these things concern me. I don’t want to be your lover, friend, acquaintance etc. You are my Stranger. And you are special that way. Although, the curiosity still remains – who are you? Maybe you exist, somewhere, far away. Maybe, you are someone close, a friend, a lover, or an acquaintance. Or maybe, the parts of you are divided among all these people. I am not certain about the form of your existence. But, does it matter? To me, it does not. All I know (and all I care about) is that – you exist. And the thought completes me.
Stranger, I don’t measure my life with the work (or profession) I get involved in, yet, I feel, writing remains very close to me. Now, let me tell you a secret. A lot of people ask me, why do I write? And I say, it’s a path towards self discovery. I never tell them that it’s more about discovering you. Are the two really different? At this point, I don’t think so.
I am a dreamer (I know you are one too). And I have this eerie feeling that one day our paths shall cross. Not for long though. Maybe a conversation over coffee, or a quick discussion at an event, or a long chat during a short journey. We will talk about everything. History, mythology, poetry, music, religion, politics, economics… Or maybe, we won’t talk. You will look at me, and I will look at you, and we will smile. We will know that we have met. And that’s just about it.
On the other hand, we may never meet. But as you know very well, our words never die. Which is why, I am leaving them here for you. If I don’t ever find you, then no-problem, my words will. And just for a moment, you will find yourself smiling. I hope. And I hope you read this while I am still alive. I don’t expect you to write back to me, but if you do, it will definitely make me smile.