To being humans

Isn’t it beautiful how irresistible it is to say ‘I’m good, what about you?’ as soon as someone asks, no matter how hurt and unhappy you are? We secretly consume ourselves rethinking about that moment and wishing to have said that our parents are no longer in love, our friends aren’t real and over lives were granted to us just so that we could pay off family loans.

At the age of growing up, society told me to be a ‘man’ following the famous quote “men don’t cry”. “Well maybe they didn’t when the world was in war dad!” I tell my biological father. But then, I was too stupid to think about anything but becoming accepted by society. When I finally realized that crying will ease my temper built enough to get me thrown out of school, I decided to follow that very quote I hated. And so did you. Think about the time when your father was put in a casket, your mom hung herself fearing that she’ll have to see you and your brother starve to death if she would have to have a share of the ration. But you’ve thought of it about a billion times haven’t you? So many times your uncle and aunts came up to you and asked you to be a ‘man’ that you can’t take your parent’s death seriously anymore. Amen!

Remember how you used to think that your mother was a bitch for killing herself knowing that you’d wake up to see her hanging from the ceiling of the other room? But do you also remember how your thoughts about her completely changed after all that money she’d transferred to your bank 3 hours before dying? I don’t want you to feel bad or anything but money does pay for life. We both are drunk anyways so….Let me buy you another beer.

At this point, you must’ve realized that we all are falling apart. Well, some are yet to fall and some have convinced themselves not to fall again. Those small threads of hope that keeps us together. You’re right, I’m so drunk! Ain’t no other time my brain thinks of more stupid things. Or maybe it does. You know what? I think human lives are like pots that are for some reason, placed at the farthest corner of a dining table. Guess where this dining table is! In a playboy’s house in LA. You know what’s more interesting? The playboy has a kitchen kink so he brings girls every night. In the process of smashing each other, we get smashed too. Sure enough, the playboy doesn’t care so we have to pick ourselves up and mend ourselves again. Enough bullshit, what human and clay pots both do that is not out of ordinary is that we both shatter. Again and Again until finally, the pieces turn into dust. We call it death. Sadly, we learn from it and pots don’t.

Oh here comes another shot. Careful! You’re about to shatter again…literally. I hope you return back to your apartment and cry a little buddy. But hey! It’s amazing how we can enjoy these shots and how these shots can enjoy us. I bet any other animal would be willing to see their lives fall apart just so that they can have an excuse to stumble across a bar. Here’s a toast. To the beauty of falling apart! To being humans!

-Sanskar Dhakal

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