The Men Who Were Living It

Politely, he asked one of the many voices inside his head that seemed hell bent on making decisions for his conscious self, to quieten down, before taking a couple of deep breaths to quell all the other voices blaring their cacophony of images, thoughts and shapes shaped by all the external stimuli he had witnessed over the course of his life and on that particular day. It was a herculean task considering the constant itch to grab his smartphone to consume all the bits and pieces of information meandering a trail out ‘there’ in the cyber world, just plain manifestations and remains of their real selves glossed over through the digital lens. He meant the people, the people’s selves.

He took the deep breaths again, intent to focus all his energies into thinking about the great abilities that he held within himself, while repeating over and over again that greatness was imminent provided he stuck with the habits he desired so, over the next couple of weeks till they became hardwired inside his head. Suddenly, out of nowhere, without any link whatsoever, he felt an intense desire to bite his nails, a habit that he had nursed since he had been a child, and deserted only four days back, reminding and distracting his mind over and over again, the moment he felt like staring at his nails. He needed to buy a nail-cutter, only then would his head realise he was serious about it.

He knew exactly what needed to done. For the umpteenth time, he swore he would begin living his new life from the next morning and then realized his folly. It was a folly. He had to start living his new life now, right now, put all his skin in the game, that was. A game, that’s probably what life was, a survival game, where the invisible hand of natural selection, jogged into its own life through habitual, evolutionary competition between billions of males and females worldwide, their combined riveting stories, thoughts and actions propelling the achievers into the imagined hall of fame, a hall of fame that was the doing of the hall of fame themselves so that they could act as role models for their adoring fans across the world. Credit deserved, no doubt. This was the way of the free market economy.

As soon as these thoughts reverberated across his head, he began living it. He knew what thoughts to think. He knew what actions needed to be taken. He would no longer be a slave to the inertia caused by rest and comfort. Everything that he desired would be his. Desires of his mind that is, shaped by the external stimuli and his genetic make-up. Was his free will of any use? Was he even free? Or a virtual simulation controlled in another realm? Was he overthinking? He was not. He was debating the cause of his existence, and if thoughts like these weren’t in the annals of the mainstream public, so be it. He knew what needed to be done, and he would do it.

He was living it.

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