For being there, and for caring

I struggle. Everyday. I struggle to rise from my bed.  I struggle walking under the monsoon’s scorching sun. I struggle to manage my salary and clear monthly bills. I struggle to keep my promises to my beloved ones. I struggle even meeting deadlines of my official works. Also, I struggle to forget my dreadful past.  

But sometimes I struggle entirely for no precise reasons. And this time, I struggle with an overwhelming sense of confusion. This confusion results from as my mind locks into irregular flow of varying emotions. Fear. Anxiety. Sad. Weariness. Ambiguity.  

To some extent, the naïve philosopher in me delivers to me that we live in a continuous stream of confusion, exploitation, uncertainty and struggling. Or perhaps living also meant struggling, confused and uncertain. I don’t know. But I can tell you how easily we, humans, are knocked off by the swirling rapids of time, reality. And we give into alarm, exploitation, to suffering and loss, accept it as a fact of life. 

And almost everyday I ask myself these questions: why am I here on earth? What exactly God trying to teach me? What’s good? What’s bad? Why we fear? Am I really living my life? Am I a good human being? Is there a next life? What’s the purpose of life? 

Pondering over these questions would crunch core emotions inside of me. And it leaves me excessively vulnerable; I sink into the feeling of being unsafe. I feel fragile and quiet, bruised and wary, sensitive and sad.

Last month, I was bedridden. I was suffering from toothache, in an unrelenting pain. After a few days, I caught high fever. I shivered, sweated a lot. My cheek was swollen. Oh, it was exquisitely painful! I started groaning, crying.

My little sister heard me crying in pain. She entered my room, came to me. She leaned towards, grasping my hands, and said, “Brother, don’t cry. I’ll take care of you and take you for hospital. You’ll be all right!” 

I held her hands tight, crying fresh tears and trying to control it brimming in my eyes. Her attentions, kind words, holding me up not only did fix my pain, but also helps me understand. The little sister of mine helps me understand that there’s turmoil everyday, in one form or another. But there’s also loved ones in our lives who stand with us willing to hold our hands and support us. Each time there’s a stumble, there’s someone willing to hold your hands to ensure you’re not in misery.