Monday, February 27, 2012

So passes Denethor, son of Ecthelion

Disclaimer - any relation between the title and the post is purely coincidental (unless of course the reader gets this author (all 2 of you) in which case it is glaringly obvious)

What is it like for things to fall into one's lap easy? To constantly live on the potential of what-you-could-be?  To have people idolise you through every passing phase of life for a myriad of things - your style, your looks, your brains, your wit, your multi-facetedness, your creativity, your academic achievements, your professional achievements - past, present and likely future? One word - heady. And if I had to think of a second - clueless.
No further explanation of heady is needed. Clueless - needs to be explained. Clueless because you take people and things around you for granted. You don't realise how much of you, exists from their adulation. And you function like you're an island. Like everyone around you will flow to you, and you go on sitting on your self-created pedestal waiting for your loyal subjects to lavish you with their attention and concern. And in a typically ironic fashion, you don't see any of it.
That little sister of yours who grew up wanting to be you, copying your handwriting, your mannerisms, she grew up. She is her own person now. That beautiful friend of yours who would feel insecure every time she hung out with you, because you intimidated her with your knowledge and wit, she too is happy in her little bubble now. You don't count with her anymore. That clueless friend of yours, who you could guide with your logic and understanding, she knows you too well now, she knows the chinks in your armor now. That boy who thought you were the light of his life, a kindred spirit, an angel - he realised it was mere infatuation and went on to find his real kindred spirit.
And as is the way of these things, the little sister, the clueless friend, the beautiful friend , the infatuated boy they never felt the change. It was all part of a natural progression. But you felt it keenly. But there were more where those came from, so life went on. But the insecurities began getting closer to the surface as the adulation grew lesser.
This supply is exhausted now. All things that made u u are on shaky ground. Your knowledge is - shaky and incomplete. Your looks - are less striking and more regular now. Your professional future - rests on a huge gamble.
Level ground never hit so bad. And so passes Denethor, son of Ecthelion

1 comment:

  1. Dear Heart,
    Happy BirthDay... or is it BirthPangs?