by Awais Leghari
We all have those crazy friends and crazy moments, when all rules of rationality are defied. These crazy moments are light, harmless and pleasing. For those brief moments, all the worries in your life are forgotten – they do not exist. While at a friend’s place, I was having one of those crazy moments. Picking up his electric guitar, I imagined myself to be in some sort of a grand concert, and as a part of a world-famous music band. I could not care less that I’m still having exams, and that my parents would fume at me when they would know how I was wasting my time.
But just as that moment had me into it’s arms, I peered out of it for a quiet thought. Why does negative circumstances lose their colors in such moments? Or simply put, what is the significance of ‘going crazy’?
Some people go crazy artificially. They inject drugs into their bloodstreams. However, their conscious decision to drift away into wilderness is not natural, hence the feeling can die away involuntarily. It has no significance.
But once you are having a good time with friends, or you’re just pondering about the future in your bed, life takes you away into the realms of space. While trying to find answers, I stumbled upon a possible explanation. Before that, this all happened here:
So yes – the explanation. The thought was not so complex as I thought it would be, given the question at hand was not so easy. The answer is – connectivity. Yes, It’s simple as that – connectivity. By diving into the madness you create out of rare moment, you release your inner instincts, the drive to discover what you really are. This rare moment, even though comes from mostly the external connection you have fostered with your friends, adds another dimension to your already diversified life. Similarly, the photo you see above is me going all mad about myself, and dreaming about being a rock-star. Now, as I recall, I used to sing songs when I was little, but as I grew up I couldn’t because my mother is way too religious to allow it. Escaping from the folds of my parents does sometime allow me to return to myself, to rediscover who I was.
I have not played a musical instrument since the time I used to be a lot shorter than I am now. But I try to fake playing it sometimes. Or stroking the strings of the guitar now and then, trying to pretend that I create good music. To my friends, my strokes are mad, horrible, and pain for ears but that mad gesture is just another way I dive into myself – just another way of me discovering who I was. My friends won’t understand.
So if you see someone going crazy. Let him be. He might be discovering his purpose in life.