Being ‘Extra’ Ordinary
Back in the days of good ol’ MTV, I came across a piece of music that was fundamental in creating this everlong disposition that defines me as a person and a professional. It is also probably the first thing you’ll read on my Instagram bio:
In case the guitar riffs haven’t yet entered your subconscious, I am precisely talking about this band called Beck and their iconic song ‘Loser’. Going by the name of the song, a lot of people mistake it for being a depressing song about being born a ‘loser’. But a loser is what a hardworking, averagely introverted person feels when he gets his job done and doesn’t throw a frantic party about his or her deeds. We deem ourselves to be perfectly normal, or ordinary.
Beck was a fairly average guy, one of your iconic self-acclaimed losers, who spent a big chunk of his life as a homeless musician who would seldom play at pubs to uninterested crowds and do two jobs.
Being born ordinary or getting to fly below the radar is a gift that a lot of us mistake for being a curse. I have seen ordinary beings, with their eyes set on a few morally exhilarating aims, getting past their 50s and 60s just fine. Instead of running at blinding speed, damaging a few really crucial relationships, ignoring a few really important phases of life, and then finally hitting the inevitable normalcy of life. Accepting one to be absolutely normal has no stain of failure, no regret of missing out on one’s child’s birth, no chance of sulking in the corner of your office for a mere pay jump while your favourite band is in town. Ambition comes with its own payload, one that generates a culture of working under pressure and accepting a million defeats before succeeding. If you could just skip all that line, perhaps you’ll find real vigor in who you are and what keeps you alive.
Once a great man said,
“What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the endAnd you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt.”
That man tore through my consciousness when I was still a youngster, pillaged of my youth by debts my father left behind, and still struggling to make my supervisors happy and show faith towards my work. That man was Trent Reznor, and the teaching was called ‘Hurt’. It spoke in volumes of this crash that is inevitable to the blinding speed that ambition grips us with.
I might sound existential and lack of flavours and directions as a person, but trust me, I am perfectly ordinary. A little extra at it. Because I know what drives me, not accolades, not how many views and claps make up for an honest read, and definitely not how much money defines my spending capacity. The way to live and die as a complete individual in this lifetime is by being happy about who you are and counting how many times you were blessed.
There are so many examples that I want to share to support this conversation. We all have heard of the Seattle Grunge Rock era, and how it was always weaponised as anti-establishment music, with detuned guitar riffs and band members with unkempt hair. But the true rock lesson from that era would be the rise and fall of one Kurt Cobain. He does not make it to my Top 3 Grunge Rock Voices for sure, that’s for Staley, Vedder and Cornell, respectively. However, his rise and fall, coupled with his problems with fame and needless attachment to the celebrity life and constant ambition led to the ultimate rockstar’s curse; one that has manifested again and again with the likes of Chris Cornell, Liam Howlett and Chester Bennington. Most of the rockstars have a tough fight to keep it close to their heart, as they share more and more stories from their heart, and a constant pressure to be on top of fame’s food chain.
Since I am speaking of the Seattle scene, I would like you to spend a few more moments and listen to this song, penned by the supergroup Mad Season, and finessed by the late Layne Staley, of Alice in Chains. The lyrics of the song hang on a tight rope of this versus that, and the very inner conflict amongst individuals is foreshadowed with this masterpiece.
“I could either burn
Or cut off my pride and buy some time
A head full of lies is the weight, tied to my waist.”“I could either drown
Or pull off my skin and swim to shore
Now I can grow a beautiful shell for all to see.”
I haven’t even attained 1% of the fame and success of these prestigious rock stars (and thank my lucky stars for that!), but somewhere down the line, I feel and resonate with their dilemmas as a human being. After all, music is a way of letting the world know how you feel and what you went through. Unfortunately, unlike these musicians and their form of writing, my industry and my kind of writing don’t allow me to express myself, my feelings, my darkness. Each new day, I got to be a new brand, a new situation, talking to a new audience. So, no matter how misconstrued our stories would’ve been, we barely get a screen to act and present.
Mental peace and coming to terms with your own flaws and perfections is the purpose of life, and somehow, in this rut that we celebrate as a successful life, we forget to appreciate the little things we take for granted. That’s why when there’s a major crisis outdoors and the only thing that can save us is a dose of oxygen, we realise how far we’ve transgressed as a society and individuals in this never-ending war to get better. Even the sky, which gives us sunshine, rain, and snow, doesn’t have limits. I don’t think we can ever draw a limitation to our criticism and success rate. We must return to our originality, fall back on our humility.
Not all celebrated stories are artificial, but a lot of loud ones are, the ones you felt were screaming right at you, as you scroll down hundreds of cacophonies on a professional social media platform, that tell you the same hacks that made some salamanders turn into vipers, overnight. In those moments, you have a constant fear, that you lack something, maybe the confidence to shout back. Someone’s motivation becomes your poison. Refrain, you’re overthinking of the what could be’s.
Be proud of how far you’ve come on your own and how many lives you’ve touched. Be thankful for the opportunities that have knocked on your door, the times you’ve spent with your family instead of pouring spirits on your celebratory miseries and reflect on your physical and mental health, those two are your best buds. Don’t mimic what seems right, listen to your heart and mind and see what they tell you to do. We’ve spent 2019 years trying to fit in, but the pandemic really showed what these rosy milestones were made of.
Keep your ambitions really realistic and often emblazed with something that gives your life and days some meaning. It’s good and meaningful to have some real poison in that blood, but too much of of it is a cesspool for yourself and your close ones and admirers. Normal life is absolutely critical in these times that are extremely diabolical and enigmatic. Take your ambitions with a pinch of salt, drive yourself to attain your guilty pleasures and take some time to get lost within, while navigating mess and leading others out of it. Unless you’re doing extremely important jobs, such as saving the planet or running a mission to reduce poverty in the world, consider your job to be just another job, and you’ll be fine. There’s no one burning out or dying except yourself and the friends and families you have.
And once when all of this is over, come rinse off that fear and emotional baggage to be stronger, faster, sharper and learn to be a thankless soul in the system who will be missed for being fearlessly, undauntedly normal.
