He had to take therapy. I mean you just can’t sit down on the middle of the road, shouting you are God, blabbering incomprehensible stuff and not take therapy. I can’t even make a straight face and say I did not see that coming. We used to sit for extended periods of time at places; parks, stairways, roadsides and talk about stuff, logical stuff from his perspective, my perspective does not even matter. He did the talking, I did the listening.
I used to come back and wonder, what triggered all this. Why someone so obviously creative and talented (I hate that word, but that’s why I use it) could end up this way. He told me something that his therapist told him. Creativity need not always be a positive thing. Probably it is like tripping, trip bad and you end up being scarred for life. Trip good and you end up being Pink Floyd or Aldous Huxley.
I did my own amateur therapy part. You know it is not always talent or creativity that decides things; it is how you decide to use them. The part about talent being nothing but a genetic gift from your parents, works well till 18. You top schools, ace competitive exams, get praises and accolades. That’s about it. After 18 it is all about hard work. I bet he knew all this. I mean who doesn’t.
He used to tell me that he doesn’t see things the way I do. He described what an approaching car with the light cone made by the headlights meant to him. I ended up telling him something way weirder; just to prove that others may think on the same lines too, just that it is not worth the imagination. I mean why on earth would you unleash your creative line of thought on something so insignificant. I was a being a victim of my own explanation.
What triggered this bad tripping is a totally different matter. I thought it was the pride, the huge ego, the putting up to great expectations compounded by a slightly enhanced imaginative mind. A mild setback (again a debatable word), and a whole world would come crashing down. Part truth.
I wouldn’t complete the rest of the story. Partly because it is not complete. Let it be.
But sometimes, when things get blue, I ponder about what the therapist said about creativity and imagination always not being a good thing.
There is thing that troubles me often. How long do you stay what people think is you? What if I’m tired of joking, making fun, trying to be witty and sarcastic and want to stay silent? A wrong time to think all this but just about half the friends who called me up ended up asking if everything is okay. Everything is okay.
I am just getting tired of being what people think I am. And playing along is getting difficult all the time.
And so I get older. Happy birthday.