Saturday, June 03, 2006

Deep Blue Sea

Ok, so my post has nothing to do with the movie about modified sharks, or even anything to do with the wonders of a beautiful sea. And I must warn you right now that it will probably be one of those posts where I just go blabbering to myself, trying to figure out stuff, not really thinking about making it interesting.

There are many kinds of people in this world. Okay, let me narrow the sample space (!!!)… there are many ‘kinds’ of kids. The popular fake kids, the fake kids, the popular kids, geeks, geniuses, simple normal kids, simple weirdoes (me!), the intellectuals and many more. It will take me the whole night to categorise them all. Now that I think about it, I can just make this post about whether we are individuals or actually fall into categories.. but that’s not what I wanted to write about. Maybe I’ll bore you with that later.

Till now, I have never really been bothered by others, I’ve always been satisfied with who I am, even though I have never been exceptionally brainy or intellectual or popular. No, I’m not complaining about not being popular enough, I’m perfectly happy with the number of friends I have. But recently, I have started doubting my way of thinking. I am an extremely self obsessed person, and am not really that bothered by the ills of the world. I’m not happy with the way things are, and definitely try my best to be part of the solution, yet, I don’t waste sleepless nights pondering over them. I have always admired those people who feel passionately about something, and then have full knowledge of it. Talking to them, you can see that they have spent time thinking about it, trying to figure out a solution. And of course, they have this vast amount of knowledge about everything, something I’m extremely jealous of! But then, what’s the difference between me and them?

It shows in everything I write as well. All my stories are simple. Actually, they’re shallow. They’re almost like a run of the mill bollywood flick. What you see is what you get. There is no inner meaning to what I write, there is no deep thinking involved. When I feel about something, do I actually think about the deep rooted cause of the problem? No. my thoughts proceed in the following way: What is it? Why has it affected me? Why are things so unfair?

That’s it. That is simply it.

All this time I went about laughing at these girls who were only concerned with the way they looked and the latest gossip, and I called them shallow. And it just never occurred to me.

I am shallow.

But then I ask, what’s wrong with being shallow? Why should I not be concerned with myself? Why should I look for deeper meanings everywhere? Why can I not write simple things that just entertain readers. Will I be considered good only after I write things in which you need to read between the lines? Articles and stories that I haven’t given a lot of thought to. Stuff that people don’t really have to think about.

So I ask, whats wrong with being shallow?