Impatiently Ignoring
- Kruthika Kamath
- 6 days ago
- 2 min read
As the clock ticks, so does the enhanced feeling of every heartbeat.
No one knows the art of waiting better than someone on the precipice of a significant life change. Unfortunately, today’s world has made every day and every moment feel like a significant life change.
I constantly feel my heart racing at the ping of a new message, email, or social media notification. Is it that career decision that I was desperately waiting for? Is it that person I have been slowly opening up to? Is it that old friend whose message I’ve been waiting for months? Is it my family sitting thousands of miles away from me? Is it the news telling me that the world is no longer crumbling but collapsing at a rate no one can fathom? Or is it my fate telling me to just hold on a little longer?
As the clock ticks, so does that ever-present feeling of “pausing”.
I think of myself as part of a generation zealous about pushing back, using my brain, embracing my emotions, and making some “changes.” But I also think of myself as part of a generation that now asks, “What is change, and why bother?”
It makes me wonder whether we want to change things or simply show that “change” is needed. We talk about accountability from others when we are unwilling to be accountable for our words and actions. We talk about embracing our emotions, but mock others who are choosing to be vulnerable publicly. We talk about giving everyone agency, yet remain silent when someone questions our own privilege. We talk about being educated, but choose to blindly follow what is told to us without actually educating ourselves. We crave slow, thoughtful, and peaceful lives. Yet we live breakneck fast, rash, and violent decisions!
So, I also ask, in this digital age, does the clock really tick anymore? In the middle of the night, with the room not so dark, I obsessively light up the room further with a tap on the wrist or a click of the phone. As a child, I remember the ticking of my clock. Today, all I can hear is the thump of my heartbeat, the slow blades of my ceiling fan, and the silence of grey cells being discarded.
So, is it truly the art of waiting? Or is it the art of impatience and ignorance?
