Overreaching Into a World Beyond Ourselves

A plant in my apartment has suddenly outgrown its pot by a wide margin. Its stems have made almost a truss bridge to ensure the leaves closest to the window and its light stay upright. Yes, I plan to move it to a larger pot soon, but something in witnessing something become exceptional has me putting off this mundane task. There is beauty in overreaching, so for now, there it is, partially suspended in midair, and here I am, watching it. Perhaps, my love for this irrelevant moment comes from the fact that I, too, have overreached for a little bit, and for a little while, I was glorious, too. Now, I try what I can try and do not go beyond my bounds so much. The plant reminds me of some parts of my life. It is a photograph that was never clicked. It is a chronicle that was never written. I plan to savour the visual for as long as I feasibly can, but then, I will give it support, change the pot, and tie some of its branches with some twine. I will not let it fall freely under the weight of its own accolades; no, I will allow a graceful regression for it—one that I did not get when I did fly for a second or two.

It baffles me that if you look closely, there are journeys all around. Lately, finally, I have found myself looking outside of myself once again. I have looked at the world like I did until some months ago. People are often too preoccupied with themselves, and if not themselves, then others, or the general idea of a person, of society, but we ought to see more. The world warrants we look more and talk less. Some things continue to happen despite our meddlesome nature. A whole world exists outside the world of people; if any joy truly exists, it exists in that world. Not in this make-believe, this stage play we conduct every day of relationships, of little scuffles and trysts with paperwork and government offices, of delayed parcels and broken hearts and unsent letters, of clients and projects and appraisals, of all the shenanigans we have created to keep ourselves busy. There is little value in all of that. The flower growing spontaneously on the sidewalk has more to say than any one of us can ever fathom.

// if you want to support this walk to nowhere, you can pitch in here