A Spoilt, Rich, Unhappy Child

One of the more fortunate one's, with whom life has been rather generous. A duplex sea-facing house filled with the best Italian marble, loving parents, adorable grandparents, studying in central London and spending without a second thought about "budgets". Yes, you can call me a spoilt rich kid. I have everything most people dream of, and yet here I am in my bedroom which is way too big for one person, sitting and throwing around all my shoes out of the drawer and laundered clothes off the table because things aren't the way I want them to be. And crying. I stare out of my window which takes up one entire wall, and I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me. People out on the road with no clothes to shelter them from the rain and the scorching Mumbai heat, and no shoes to keep their feet from the oh-so-disgusting puddles, should be crying. Not me, not the rich, spoilt kid. And then I feel "Hey, hold it."

Everyone has a right to feelings. Justified feelings or not. Because in their heads they're justified. How many times have we dealt with a problem, and at the time felt that this is the biggest deal in the world, that nothing could be worse? And how many times, a couple of years later, have we looked back at that time and laughed at ourselves? I know I have. Whether its boy issues or financial situations, we humans have a tendency of turning a molehill into a mountain (any aliens reading this? suggestions?). We're suckers for sorrow, for pity, sympathy and all the synonyms that go with it.

Sometimes, I actually enjoy it. People talk about basking in the glory of their joy. I like basking in the depression of my sorrow. It gives me a weird sort of pleasure. Makes me feel... Complete. Makes me feel that, 'Yes, Im a human, I feel all the spectrum's of mood'. When there's so much corruption around me, in the form of gossiping, bribing, bitching, backstabbing, theft, destruction, war and death, the simple feelings of joy & sorrow take me back to the good-human part of me. I feel a connection with the ancestors we evolved from. We might be able to fly to the moon and back, and be able to create cars that run on water, things our ancestors could never dream of (read: mobile phones! My grandmom still revels in that invention), but we're linked to them because of the way we feel - they felt the same things 100s of 1000s of years ago. The things that we feel today. The feeling that our problem is the biggest deal in the world.

So the next time Im crying and someone tells me to "Stop crying and see how blessed you are", Im going to tell them to shove it, because I like basking in the depression of my sorrow. And no, that does not make me a spoilt, rich, unhappy child; it makes me human.