“Hey Anant, it’s been a long. I am not doing fine. Please give me a call when you’re up.” - Mark’s text popped on the screen.
Mark – one of the dearest friends of mine, since my very
childhood. A seasoned writer, a wonderful poet, and a freelance blogger. Wasn’t a
born-writer, but yeah, very much interested in reading since school time.
The habit of reading gradually shifted him into the ‘writer’s lane’, and since then there’s
no looking back. His writing's ordinary ‘hatchback’ has been converted into a premium ‘sedan’,
and passion's ‘ordinary road’ has converted into an ‘expressway’. He always has been my fire brigade to not just extinguish but, to rehabilitate me after any fire in
my life, just what ‘Mehta sahab’ does for ‘Jethiya’ in TMKOC.
But this time, it was the fire brigade, which itself was
burning. I put the cup of ‘kadha’ (maybe the most consumed beverage in India post
March 2020) on the table, and got me out of the infamous ‘fish market’ by
switching off the TV – yeah, it was 6’ in the evening, the debate show was
going on the 'Best Worst News channel' of India. Detaching myself from the ‘kadha’
and the ‘fish market’, felt so good like another world. But, as I read the ‘peculiar’ text from
the most motivated, lively, and worry-free person I know, I lost into the deep
ocean of worries and 'mishappenings' about Mark.
.
.
.
“Hello Mark, Anant this side…”
After incessantly talking and weeping at times for a couple of hours, I heard a three-beep sound, and the phone hanged. I was so in pain hearing Mark's grave problems that I lost all my psyche and thought ‘these must be the beeps of a bomb and he must have detonated himself and committed suicide'. It took me a few minutes to get myself out of this hysteria. “Goddamn...it’s the phone’s battery which’s dead. Huh…many thanks God”!
 |
| Photo by Gabriel on Unsplash |
I still remember those days when Mark, happened to be my roommate
in college and how he used to complete some thousand-word blog post in just a couple of hours. Today, he keeps on sitting for hours and hours, breaking the backspacing key after every line or two and switching between the thoughts even
faster than the politicians switch their parties during election time (though,
the anti-defection law has shown a little hope in countering the ‘aayaram-gayarams’)
.
What actually went wrong? What hampered his writing practice?
What sat in his head and buried all his focus, concentration, and creative ideas? Why did the one who used to write every single day turn into one
who now grapples to even write a few words in months? Why a ‘champion’ in
all walks of life turned into a ‘toddler’!?
.
.
.
1.
“Why on the earth are you aspiring to become a full-time author! Don’t
you think it demands absolute focus, real hard work, impeccable writing skills
and strong determination”?
2.
“You have miserably failed the ‘JEE Advanced’ right? How come you think
you are a hardworking guy. You couldn't crack JEE Advanced, you'll meet the same fate here also”?
3.
“Being an Engineer, why are you
still opting for an off-the-track career. Didn’t you get a job or aren’t you a
deserving one. I guess the latter one...”?
4.
“The Chetan Bhagat nahi ban jaoge koi, tum ‘Chodu Bhagat’ (fuckin’ Idiot) ho beta”. {You will never be as successful as Chetan Bhagat, such a fuckin' Idiot
you’re}
5.
“Prepare for a govt. job. Leave these ‘nonsense goals’ aside. Become financially-independent
first. How long you gonna remain a liability for your parents!!”
6.
“Better do post-graduation at least for the sake of a paper document
called ‘degree’ which definitely won’t do any good to you but at least will
help you grab a decent job more easily. You definitely will be able to fulfill
the basic necessity of ‘dal roti' with it”.
7.
“No one in our entire lineage has been a full-time author by profession
before. It’s not that none among them tried to pursue their passion, few tried
and tried really hard…but eventually landed up in hospital/penury/coffin. You
know whom I am talking about.”
.
.
.
Upon getting constantly bombarded by such humiliating questions and
bitter advice for about a year by society, Mark somehow tried his best to
not lose his calm and overlook them. Ultimately it was his innocent mind
that was getting affected every passing day with these constant pinches and indirect
taunts. Mark tried his best to not let his head lose cool and get off-the-track
but unfortunately, he couldn’t…
Been in extreme stress for a long past, Mark’s presently
dealing with the worst stage of ‘clinical depression'. He has lost all the vigor, zeal, and
liveliness he once possessed, hasn’t been the same Mark I once knew. Also, he doesn’t
wear a big smile and crack jokes and, doesn’t speak with the same audacity and charm in his voice anymore.
Society indeed won – Mark doesn’t want to become an author
anymore, neither he'll ever become. But, what society doesn’t know is, Mark doesn’t want to become ‘anyone’
anymore - he has no goals, no desires left. Had society supported, or at least not criticized him this badly, the situation must have been different today. Mark lives like a ‘living corpse’ now.
Not only killing someone physically is a crime, but killing someone ‘mentally’ also
is. Once again, society murdered an innocent soul, but will society ever be punished?
I request you all with folded hands…if you ever come (and you
definitely will) across a “Mark”, please lend 'them' a helping hand or a leaning
shoulder, or a listening ear. Maybe you could help 'them' heal fast from the ‘society’s
bullet’ which has pierced their body/soul and save the life of one more ‘innocent’
from the torments of society.
.
.
.
Four months later, I lost Mark forever!
Hail society, slow claps…