I attempted to try something different this time. With a job, a new routine and 2 of the most awaited (or pretentious), jolly (or lonely) holidays, I took to social media. Because a well lit Christmas tree doesn’t make any difference in your life until it’s put up on your InstaStory.
Even when there are tears in your eyes as you scroll through your feed, or when you feel alone in a crowd that counts down to 2018, you post a picture of your bubbly that you down on 3, because hell, who has the time to wait for “2…1” and to yell “Happy New Years” when there’s not an ounce of happiness in your system or anything new about the year. So you gulp it down and choke and smile. Sway to the beats of the song you can barely hear with people you can barely recognize, for the alcohol in you doesn’t ease anything anymore, it just makes you see and hear less and my god, if that made things better, wouldn’t the deaf and the blind be the happiest people in the world?
I know what you’re thinking. I should be more positive? Smile more? Here’s my question, my dear loved one, how much can you sell positivity to disguise reality? I wonder if you realize that masking things don’t make it look better. That you want me to fool myself into believing in your bullshit.
Instead of posting my booze, my party, cute guys, the chandelier, I posted my everyday mundane life. Life in which I wake up too early, proceed with the very normal morning routine and leave for work. You’d be astonished to know, if I shared the data with you, the number of people who lead a similar and equally mundane life.
We, the working class, we complain about similar things, we rejoice on Fridays and every other national holiday that falls in the week. We make plans to live only on the weekends and between work, we look forward to lunch, a smoke and chai, every single day. We scroll on facebook and curse all those on the beach or a hilltop and I personally dislike those who post pictures of morning coffee in bed with sunlight falling in through their curtains, mostly because it practically baffles me to see you this relaxed and not going for your job.
Much to my surprise, we’re all lonely together. We all relate the most to the most normal, unsaid things. I cannot stress on this enough, but you don’t need strangers to tell you your worth in your comments because we’re all different but we’re so obnoxiously stuck in very similar lives. So for a week, I led mine highlighting what I will possibly be doing for the whole of next year instead of that that I won’t more than twice a year. A simple everyday life of the working class. While it’s true that the world doesn’t give a fuck if you love or lose, win or fail, I managed to leave some with a smile on their face. As they struggled with their everyday, it gave them a weird, unexpected and unwanted hope that we’re all in the same rut of life. Funnily, even the ones with pictures of coffee mugs in bed. It gave them the motivation to get out of there. That, and not the bubbly, or the drunk dancing or the cute boys, that, of all things, brought a smile on my face. Stuck in the this rut of life together, where we’re all struggling to keep up, on our own, in our own unique, yet very similar ways.