A Little Wednesday Existentialism

A policeman’s daughter, my designation plate at the moment being RD green gets my father smiling. He’d always wanted me to be in Civils.

I travel in a beat-up old Gypsy with the license plate MZ 01 F 6377 which is younger than my dad’s Maruti 800 which is MZ 01 E, but is in much worse shape than the latter. Public vehicles. There’s a lot to be said about this. But probably for another day. 

In any case, I see people reading my designation plate sometimes. Some of them look up and read my face. I don’t know if they can see my face, and I don't know what they think. What I know is how different we all are. Sometimes I see recognition in their eyes but I don’t know what to make of it. What is a BDO? When I was little, I certainly didn’t know who a BDO was, much less what a BDO did. I am a policeman’s daughter. All I knew was what policemen did. Different people, different lives, I guess.

If we make it work, we make it work. And we should be thankful for it. A lot of people don’t. A lot of times, we don’t. People are fighting battles we know nothing about. I think the only real thing we can take away from any situation is to be kind. Very difficult to do, of course. I know for a fact that sometimes I make up my mind to make things as difficult as I possibly can for some people. And I have, too. Because when you meet with rude disrespect, all the little metaphorical warrior cells get activated in your system and they strike hard. I am happy that this impulse is lessening with age. But some days… ya.

Some days it is hard to accept where I am in life. Is this what was always going to happen? Could things have gone a different way? 

Most days, it is hard to guess what goes on in people’s lives. Sometimes I meet people I’d met once in some duty or event and spent time with. I smile or wave if they seem to recognise me too. It feels nice. Like an acknowledgment that I’m alive in someone else’s lives. Because some dark existential days, it feels like I am the centre of the universe and people solely exist because I do.

Of course, this narcissism is fueled up by the prevalence of social media these days. We all have our platforms that boost up our perceived importance. We feel important. We feel seen and observed. It is like an IV feed right into our vanity. And unfortunately, our self-worth. 

It is becoming so hard to differentiate between what is real and what is not, AI not making anything easier at all. It is harder and harder to tell who is fake and who is not. We collect receipts like memories will fail us if we don’t; pics or it didn’t happen!

And to think, if I were in Arthur Dent’s world, I could hitchhike my way to Betelgeuse! For now, I’ll wait for December to watch for it in the night sky.