Why Am I?

Why Am I? Being driven by my surroundings and complaining about the same. I am not taking charge of my life, my desires, my aspirations; I am being directed by my surroundings, reacting, time and again to situations/events/happenings all around me. I am playing the game, the rules of which are being set by someone else. I am one of the herd: a herd out on a mad rush.

Why Am I? Littering the streets and complaining about all pervasive filth. Why do I crib about the results of my doing and of those of my ilk? What makes me think that it is OK for me to litter but not so for the others. What is so special about me that renders me damn well above board.

Why Am I? Seeking perpetual attention and confirmation of my being. Why do I have to get a nod of approval from those around me - to feel alive, to feel wanted, to feel myself. I am conferring the power of my BEING, the authority of justifying my ‘Self’/my ‘Existence’ to someone else, someone that either has no clue about who or what I am or one that doesn’t care; worse still, one who is neither aware nor gives a damn.

Why am I? Defining my sense of being by my “achievements” and “success”. Who defines success for me? Is it me or someone else? Should I even be bothered about my ‘relative’ well-being amongst my peers: measuring myself against my lot with the kind of car that I drive, the size of the house that I live in, the clubs that I attend or the quantum of frequent flyer miles I have accumulated?

Why Am I? Losing myself to the crowd. Losing the larger picture of LIFE; pushing myself on the road when 20 years hence I would like to undo whatever I am doing right now, yearning for a fresh start when I could make one, right now. Who would set the parameters for my happiness if not me?