One of the simplest things we can do in our life is to sell our soul. To turn away from what our heart desires and allow everybody else in the world to dictate the terms of our life. From what we wear to how we greet to what we can laugh at to what we must jeer at – we let people control our lives, by forfeiting all rights of exercising our own mind. The society demands and demands, all the time veiling its true motives, and in order to belong, one by one we slowly give away bits of our soul. Years later we have not even reason enough left to understand that nothing of our soul is still with us, and we slowly join the same machinery in raping more youth of their confidence, their originality – with which they are meant to take us forward – and their spirit – the only weapon with which they can fight this battle.

For long I didn’t entirely understand the language my soul spoke. I complied with everything well-meaning adults demanded of me. I took up business studies because that’s what every ambitious person was doing, and because I was expected to take it up –
I went about it like a machine. From attending classes to submitting projects – I made no mistakes anywhere. And for happiness, I sought friends. Most of the friends let me down in the long run. But that’s another story. And then one fine day I was offered a job to write. It was the first time I didn’t turn to anyone to ask for advise, or to wonder if it was a respectable job (I have had to write one gossip too many), it was as if I truly heard the voice of my soul for the very first time. I withdrew from the second round of interviews of an HR firm, for which I’d qualified for, and took up the job. Ever since I have found my happiness in typing down words, giving shape to thoughts, attending world music concerts and art exhibitions and then in attempting to recapture the magic of the evening in time for my deadlines…. I am happiest when I am at work. Maybe my colleagues feel I don’t open up my soul to them, for I don’t gossip with them and curse old employees who’d subjected us to much pain because of their power games. And so they think I’m a little weird, am not one of them, for I don’t bend even when they reveal the insults that some had hurled at my integrity. That’s just it, they don’t understand that if join them in blaspheming the older colleagues, I would be proving them right. I would rather go chasing a new story and drown myself for hours in thoughts and feelings… I won’t barter my soul for becoming one of them. I don’t hate them, don’t intend to disrespect them, but would prefer if they let me be.

The problem is that you either join them, or they will join hands and crucify you. If you are not one of them, then you’re not fit to share the same earth with them. I love Aman for many reasons, one of which is for him having the courage to stand alone, for following reason, his mind, and keeping away from religious jazz which fail to ignite any faith in him. For refusing to do anything which fails to make sense to him. But now, in order to live my life with him, the world is dictating the terms and conditions to me. Conditions that I must meet, or else forego my claim to their Aman. They need me to be one of them. To lose my ideals, adopt theirs and become one of them. And this is where I hang today.

Nobody understands what I am fighting for. What gives me nightmares is if they will make me bend and kiss their feet… if they will make me sell my soul.