A late night existential crisis or just acidity?
At 2 AM, it's hard to say what's hitting harder, life or the spicy chhole you had for dinner. As I lay tossing and turning on the bed last night, I began to introspect. Have I been living an authentic life? Have I been true to myself? Throughout my life, I have mostly done what was expected of me. Yet, a quiet voice inside me asked if I had traded small parts of my authentic self to gain all this.
A sharp pain in my lower back pulled me back to the present. It was an old injury, returning once more. I carefully turned to my left to ease the discomfort. The bright LED display of the air conditioner made my eyes uncomfortable and added to my irritation and anxiety. I sighed in frustration. Another night felt ruined, and tomorrow's meeting now seemed uncertain. That thought only made me more anxious.
Eventually, I found a somewhat comfortable position, free from pain. My mind drifted to my college days when I was uncertain, broke but filled with energy. Now, although I live a disciplined and productive life, I feel disconnected from that version of me. I easily get exhausted. Probably, this is the path to becoming a mature adult, along with the joint pains. Or probably not.
Existential philosopher and Nobel laureate Albert Camus said, 'Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.' I wish I could do things that give me more energy and happiness. But it is easier said than done. It can be quite challenging to reinvigorate spontaneity in your late 30s. Maybe there is just a lot to lose. With that comes lower appetite for taking risks.
Suddenly, a bulb lit in my mind. A voice, perhaps quiet for many years, said with clarity: life is too short to live only by what others expect of you. I do not want to be that old man sitting alone with a list of regrets. I only have half of my life left, that too if I am lucky. I decided that I must reclaim some of that old energy. First, I would finally go on that 7-day trek to the Himalayas, the one I have kept postponing for years. I would also spend more time writing, especially working on my second book. I would also play basketball more often. I decided to do more of what makes me feel alive.
Just as I was having a profound inner moment, my stomach decided to join the conversation. I realised that if you stay awake late at night, your body begins to speak in strange and uncomfortable ways. I tried to ignore it, hoping it would settle on its own.
What is the real purpose of life? I have always found this question difficult to answer. For many people, it confuses more than it helps. Do we really need an overarching fixed purpose when our beliefs and goals keep changing every few years if not every day? How can anyone commit to one clear aim when everything around and inside us is constantly shifting? In Hindu thought, life's purpose is often described as moksha, or freedom from the cycle of birth and death. But there is a strange irony here. The purpose of life lies outside life itself.
In real life, it feels difficult to choose just one fixed aim and run towards it. Maybe purpose is not a final goal but a direction we move in. As Douglas Adams humorously wrote, 'I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.' I believe the direction must come from within us, but only if we are willing to listen. And that requires honesty and an open heart.
As I got deeper into this trail of thought, I saw how tricky these reflections are. They rarely give us direct answers or practical steps. That makes them hard to comprehend in a world where everything is measured by digestible bullet points. Yet, these questions return to us, again and again. As Jean-Paul Sartre once said, 'Everything has been figured out, except how to live.' Perhaps these sleepless nights are our mind's way of reminding us to pay attention.
My stomach started growling. I gave up and got out of bed. With half-closed eyes, I looked at my phone. It was 3 AM. I walked to the kitchen, opened the cabinet and took out a sachet of ENO. As the fizz bubbled up in the glass, I stared at it like it was part of a strange ritual. I drank it quickly. A wave of calm passed through my body. Maybe it really was just acidity and not an existential crisis.
I woke up late the next morning and rushed to the office. I felt dull and slow during the day. I reflected briefly on the thoughts from the night before, but quickly turned my attention to the meeting. I sipped a strong cup of black coffee. The meeting went fine, the coffee kicked in and I still don't know the purpose of life. But at least I know ENO works.
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