The person who has no regrets in life has never really lived actually.
Life throws two directions at us at the same time leaving only two
seconds to make our choice. So what’s left is always “What could have
been if I chose the other way”. There is never a single path to reach
our destination but crossroads that lead us forward but maybe in a more
or less painful way. Would it hurt less if our fate was binding rather
than dependent on our day-to-day decisions? So easy to swallow the grief
if we knew that it was beyond our control. But that is not the case.
Having our options limited by a few leaves us helpless. We may feel the need to have no say but when the time comes we don’t refrain from begging for a chance, a chance to fight, a chance to make it alright. The burden of guilt is easier to carry if we know who to blame it for. A white lie to our conscience destroys our peace but satisfies the mind. Stability is what we seek. The knowledge that someone else is pulling the strings, a masks that disguises our own incompetence, makes our journey smooth. So, we ask for the challenge, lose but can’t bear the blow of the defeat.We are all cowards at the end of the day,if we cannot face the truth and we cannot face our life.
This is the real paradox. On our journey, we forget that we ourselves carve our destiny. A cloak of excuses is at hand to cover up our pain but deep down we realize that we reap only what we sow. If we have the courage to make a choice, why can’t we admit our wrongs and start again instead of shifting responsibility on something abstract. High and lows may throw you off track but at least you’ll know that everything is always in your hands.


Is pain indispensable when it comes to true expression of art? This recent debate on whether talent and creativity is honed by a tortured self, the grief making its way into the soul of the art thereby producing a piece that speaks volumes, or is it just an excuse to mask incompetence, got me thinking. Most of the views I encountered seemed to be bent towards the necessity of failure and sadness as a stepping stone, recounting examples from history. But, in my opinion, they tend to overlook at the basic premise, what pain is – only a feeling, an emotion. The tinge of complexity obscures our view, and we ignore the simple truth – the driving force behind every work of art is feeling.

An artiste needs to feel that he/she is truly alive. The mind only works and the body is only propelled into motion when there is an eruption of caged sentiments, when the heart is allowed to speak and body obeys it in mute submission. We assume that we all feel, but actually we are numb to most of the sensations in our daily life. We live unaffected, indifferent and ignorant. The passion is slowly subdued as we compromise with our fate. The creative mind needs a turbulent wind, pulling it in different directions, and not a tranquil sea. Since this shake is easily provided with a touch of hurt, the mind only realizes the importance of one side of the coin. Happiness can be equally overpowering. But as we are conditioned to take for granted what little joy comes our way, it rarely turns into a force that can cause upheaval within. If we wish for a hundred listeners for our joy, we want a thousand for our grief. The outer hard, unfeeling surface needs to be in touch with its weak, subservient and sentimental soul. This would magnify every hint of emotion which would further find its way into expression. The artistic self doesn’t need to bury itself in grief but needs to feel whatever is around him/her. He/she needs to let in the aura of the surroundings and let it dictate the heart. The shackles of conformity need to be broken if you want to find your way as well as yourself in your art. Your art shouldn’t be what you see; rather it should be what you feel. Life is a rollercoaster and hence there will times of grey as well as sunshine. Even if the greys dictate your mood, don’t fail to appreciate the beauty of the little bouts of sunshine. Your art won’t just end after a season, but would cling to its grandeur through years and years. Remember, the art will never end until the heart stops beating…..or the heart stops feeling…