why me?

Why me? It was the question that always rained down my veins each time I thought of making sense of everything around me. Perhaps chaos had gotten the better of me, and just like everyone else, I too could not find a way out.

But now that I reflect, I was asking the question which so many before me have already asked, but to no satisfaction. I too ask, because just like you, I want to know why some of us get to feel more pain than others. I also want to know why some of us give up on life early while others continue to battle through the darkest of the days.

To understand better, I will take you on a short journey: one which is overshadowed mostly by tragedy, at least that’s what I think. While growing up, I used to think that all my problems would just disappear if I just had some extra coins. What else could I have thought? After all, I was just so hungry.

And then I cried abundantly when papa left us. I wished that God would just bring him back somehow; I dreamed of that every day but it never happened. My heart wept endlessly as if locked in the perpetual dust of our neighboring galaxy.

And after a few years (during my high school days) the crying games continued. And the longer I cried, the shorter it took for me to recover. And in that recovery, all I ever thought of was crying again. And so I did. That cycle of the soaked pillows continued. It was as if I was trapped in a loop and there was no escape.

After a while, I used to think that everything would be perfect in life if I could just be loved back. Such naïve of me to think that.

And while at university, I just had one meal per day (and the same each day, all year long) because that’s what I could only afford; perhaps all that I could think of was to graduate and start earning. And when I did graduate, all I could think of was getting a job because I had been unemployed for quite a long time.

As all of these events unfolded, and no matter how much I tried not to have myself scarred, I was already sinking in the pool of my tears. I had forgotten that fulfillment was just a fairy tale and that misery was the only true calling in life.

I had forgotten that no amount of happiness could ever be a substitute for all the tragedy that has to inevitably unfold at some point in our lives. After all, the ‘good days’ only teach us so little; it was the ‘bad day’ that taught us everything else we needed to know about life.

I have always imagined a life without grief, but the plain thought of it somehow doesn't feel right; it feels as if the very fabric that defines life would be taken away from us if that were to happen.

Some find comfort in the idea that tomorrow would be better, while others have been used to the pain that so convincingly persists. As for me, I will take each day as a blessing regardless of the tragedies that it presents. Me asking the ‘why me?’ question perhaps has no meaning to this universe.

-Yogesh Chandra