A skewed sense of being…

Myriad experiences, nuanced and glaring, soothing and jarring, sprinkle our lives the moment we are born. In fact, some theories have proven that even before we set foot, actually head into this world, (as not too many cases are breach births, hence pun intended), we are sequestered by layered experiences; each of which bring along their fair set of added, minuscule particle sized, sub-experiences, as I choose to call them.

These, once out in the open then start working their magic or sinking their poisonous darts into the hosts, as the case maybe and slowly, but very surely, people start building on these blocks of experiences and start perceiving the world around as good, bad or ugly and apply perhaps the same contextual, see-through glasses to perceive themselves.

The results can be alarming, annoying and/or assuaging. Depending on the degree to which the mixture of life pouring through the sieve that one puts it through or sometimes prism that one shines it through: the conclusive aftermath can be equally, if not completely astounding, aggravating and/or appealing, though not necessarily in the same order.     

Depending thus on the kiln that one is fired in, the clay that goes into sculpting one’s being, the temperature at which one is tempered; finally comes into being a creature-sculpture that either cracks on being exposed, gets better with time, has an air bubble stuck somewhere just waiting to pierce through like a time capsule that has lost the count of time.

Which one of these beings are we? Do all of the factors akin to being fired in a kiln apply to us? Or is it again some more mumbo-jumbo to confound and disguise and deceive?

But more often than not, what one observes and the incidence of such observations and corresponding results seem to have long back pushed through the glass ceiling, revealing a reasonably decent piece of art or balanced looking exceptional creation.

A closer, deeper look reveals a skewed, incomplete being: One who is looking for pinning all of those voids, those inconsistencies on the kiln or the clay or the temperature or the moisture or even the sun’s rays.

What almost everyone seems to miss out or fail to notice, is that the complete entity of the being, is an amalgamation of not just a few factors, but a bombardment of sorts from a constant moving dynamic world, punctuated with insights, glaring gaping chasms and sometimes extremely mutational chinks.

So what does this creature-sculpture do? Wherein is its reprieve? Who or what does it assign blame or credit to?   Is there a one-size-fits-all solution to the painful refrain emanating from somewhere deep within? Is there a tailor made remedy that hits the target spot on, relieving the sculpture-creature: transferring the sense of discomfort to another plane, planet or being?

Or is it just a puzzle, an enmeshed, embroiled conundrum that needs to be juggled, toggled, jigged or even maybe, sometime just rigged to position each piece in place to achieve a harmonious state of being? Is that the only way to set right the one constant discordant note, or can it be achieved by tweaking a little of each? Is the journey more of looking within or is it somewhere without? How does one really ease the skewed ratio of this intriguingly enigmatic being existing in an equally perplexing stream of ever-changing checks and balances, designs and unrequited dreams?

© Copyright Suverchala Kashyap