Celebrating the mundaneness of existence

Sitting in my office while the entire country is under lockdown is pretty strange.  When I say I am off to work, even my parents are a little wary.  "Should you really go?", my mom asks.  I have to, I say and leave.  My dad doesn't show the same sentiment.  His questions invariably are, "Why aren't you yet at work?", "Is S..... coming with you?", "Why haven’t you yet left after lunch?" Underneath all that I still know he is concerned.  I know because his eyes are otherwise glued to the TV news updates on corona virus.  Or nCovid 19.

But, then this post is not about Covid 19.  Or the trying times we are all living under.  It's something else.  I was reading a book.  I got immersed in it.  Hung on to every word.  Once it was over I even wished I could write as well.  Those who have known me also know how I cherish to write.  Some do believe I can.  And, some jeer at my writing (thanks to this blog that I have shared). I also am jealous of people who can sing and dance.  People who have other artistic talents - draw, paint, act, direct, write, edit, and the list goes on.  I can't do any of that.  I could have possibly pursued singing/music.  But I didn't.  Instead I am an armchair critic whenever a music show/competition is on the TV.  I could have learnt gardening from my parents.  No, I didn't want to soil my hands.  I am good at finding faults instead.  Or just think that a garden is neglected by others - even when it's in my house!

Even though I wield a camera I know I am an ordinary lensman.  Most times I don't know why I am clicking whatever that's there in front of me.  My mom even chides me.  'First learn to appreciate, admire the beauty.  You're just busy clicking and losing the moment'.  True!

Coming back to my thoughts this morning.  The book also got me thinking. Essentially we appreciate people with talent.  The artist, the scientist - however mad they are.  Once they've achieved recognition and/or success, we do make a beeline in praising them, asking others to emulate them. And, we do not celebrate those that appreciate them.  We do not celebrate ourselves - the readers, the listeners, the viewers, the aficionados, the gourmets.

True, there might be a hidden talent in each of us.  But not all of us realise.  Nor all of us are courageous enough to pursue our passion.  We may lack conviction - even if not means and resources.  So, many of us remain just ordinary souls that admire achievements of others.  And, many times remain sad that we do not have the same talent.

Here is what I thought at the end of all that rumination: we are talented to appreciate others.  We are talented to admire achievements.  We are talented enough to read.  To see.  To smile.  Isn't that enough? If the talented us did not exist to appreciate that movie, admire that art, adore that book, aspire for that new designer wear, would there be any worth of the authors or the musicians? Think about it! Time to celebrate ourselves too.  For not just what we do.  But, what we are.  However little we are.