I've had a privileged childhood, yes. Though growing up in an orthodox gujrati joint family makes one pretty strong. You see, there are so many personalities in close quarters at all times, that you learn to allow, adapt and adjust to a number of things that you don't find appealing. Also, rebelling against the older generations of the family from time to time only helped build my spirit. Having a set of parents who welcomed that spirit helped my confidence. Then came the final years of school that gave me a taste of leadership, then came college and all the extra curriculars that gave me the power to explore my mind, body and God alone knows how many possibilities. Then came the preparation for civil services that opened up a world beyond the one we see. This helped give me insight, experience, and finally, dreams.
Then came the part where I got about fulfilling the dreams. The force, its training, and the service itself.
You see. I'm putting in the words like allow, adjust, adapt, rebel, spirit, confidence, leadership, exploration, possibilities, preparation, insight, experience, dreams, training, service all together in one paragraph.
This is not my story alone. Or at least, this is not an epic story. It is a standard one, as the words above come in the story of a large number of people I know. The need to become a strong individual is a normal need. Normal does not mean right or good or accurate or what is needed. It simply means that which is being found in the majority.
The need to be strong is normal. Because it's what most people are. But do we all have to?
My little finger hurts. One of the smallest parts of the body to pain for the longest time. It's been months. The pain is there, it is bad and it is real. And I don't know why it is. A large number of doctors in a very large hospital don't know why it is. We shall soon find out, with all the tests going on. Or we won't. Some things are beyond the purview of empirical diagnosis. But that is not the point of my rant.
The strength of all those years and that which is derived by all those words, is all at the stake of this little finger today. The ideas that come up with regard to the possible diagnosis, if found true could have the power to break me finally. And all those words will remain just words.
I know pain. And I know physical pain is nothing compared to the one we can feel. But this little finger has got the power to become a pain far more unbearable in nature than any I have experienced before.
As one grows up, they have a very definite understanding of what is dear to them. And this little finger has already shown me very vividly, how it could be possible to lose a lot of that which I have come to hold dear.
Today, it is the power of the little finger against the power of me. With all my strength of mind and body, of personality and character, I stand with my eyes full of tears that refuse to roll down in the last and final show of strength looking at that little finger which could be anything.
It is my little finger. So why not make its power mine too. Why not be 'little finger strong'? Won't that help me win this fight?
It will.
And it must.
Because it is normal.
