Monday, May 14, 2012

Care to get on a rollercoaster?




The easiest response to a question around how you are doing is to mention that you are on a rollercoaster. Most people either smile knowingly or sympathetically, and sometimes nod their heads in commiseration or make gentle clucking sounds. A few of them will clutch your arm and lean in for more information. That’s because everyone believes their life is a rollercoaster, even the ones who are seated comfortably on rides that might appear grandmotherly to you. The theory of relativity applies here too.

Relative or not, I do liken my life to a rollercoaster quite often, as any perusal of my blog posts reveals. This is not because I have any love for them. In fact, my oft-repeated desire is also to lead a quiet, stable life. I do suspect though that within me lives a little gene who disagrees vehemently and plots marvelously to ensure that as I am making my way to the pink candy stand in the corner, I suddenly find myself about to embark on a rollercoaster. And once you are at the gate, and the gatekeeper looks at you with an expectant gaze, you cant help but shrug and board the damn thing.

And considering that I have boarded the damn thing all too often, I may as well give something back to the world, my own mini-tutorial for boys and girls who have embarked, or are thinking of embarking, on a journey on a rollercoaster.

So here it is, my “Top 10 things to remember when riding a rollercoaster” –

  1. The rollercoaster will always start with a jerk, pun unintended. Don’t expect a smooth take-off, this will be sudden, it will be quick, and it will leave you breathless. What it will not be is out of your control, you did take the decision to sit on it in the first place.
  2. The dread that you feel as it starts is not a figment of your over-active imagination, but your well oiled instincts kicking in. And they are right. You are in for a “ride”. And it’s too late to get off, so you may as well sit back and grin. Weakly or otherwise.
  3. The ride will gain pace at a rate that will leave you questioning your judgment and looking longingly at those happy-looking people sitting on those rides far, far below you. Just don’t blame the gatekeeper for ushering you in.
  4. While your terror is yours and absolutely yours, it is also shared by many others who are around you. They can’t help you, they can’t even give you a hug, but they feel the same way and that should count. After all, misery loves company.
  5. As you reach the peak, and feel the burst of exhilaration that comes with it, keep in mind the sharp drop and sinking feeling that will surely follow it. Not that knowing it will help you prevent it or even be prepared for it. Its just that knowledge is armor. Of a kind.
  6. The good news that is the corollary also holds true. As you hit rock bottom and want your life to end (or your brains to blow themselves out), a little part of you will provide that much needed silver lined thought that an upswing will follow soon.
  7. When the rollercoaster turns to the left, you will need to swing a little to the right to balance it out. And the reverse too. If you want to bring some stability into the ride, and into your veins, follow this little trick.
  8. However tough your seatbelts are, however tightly you hold on to the sides, you will still feel as if you are falling in space and there’s nothing, and no one, to hold you together. Which is not altogether untrue. Remember, you are alone in your terror and the knot you have in your stomach. But yes, if you were sensible enough to put some seatbelts in the first place, you are inherently safe.
  9. There will the screams of your fellow passengers, the twisting & turning blur of the surrounding landscape, the screech of the ride’s wheels and assorted other forms of sensory overload during the ride. To retain sanity, shut it all out and focus on your heart, even if its beating at an inhuman rate. The steady beats and what they tell you will even you out.
  10. And finally, your heartbeat will slow to a normal pace as the ride slows and comes to a halt. Even as normalcy returns and you feel that you might live again, don’t be surprised if you find yourself questioning if that life is worth living at all. Especially if the halt is sudden, which it usually is. You will get off, and totter and twist and maybe even fall down in a heap.

But later, once a suitable distance has asserted itself, you will talk to someone about the ride and say “it was worth it”. And it is. 

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