The future and its gods

I never really thought about what my purpose was. It never occurred to me that it was a pretty important question to answer in the first place. I had always had a goal to meet and a task to complete, but I never knew what it was all about. Some of you may recognise this; it tends to afflict those of us who came first more than those who followed, though it is by no means a cross that we bear alone.

I am my father's first born, the one he and my mother didn't prepare for, the one who upended their cozy lives, or so I comfort myself for the topsy-turvy nature of my childhood. Until the others came, I was their pride and joy, their hope for the family, the repository of all their dreams. I was an utter disappointment and they couldn't hide that disappointment from me. They did a pretty good job of keeping it from everyone else, but even small boys know when they have failed to live up to expectations, whatever those might be for a boy of two, and the boy too adopts a wait-and-see attitude towards his aptitude. Let it all come as a surprise for him too!

It was pretty clear that my purpose would be served if those who followed did not end up like me, surpassed my accomplishments, survived my failures, satisfied my parents' hopes and dreams, became the apple of their eyes that they had always wanted. To that end, I served my purpose, and I served it well. Then I infected the new one with my malevolent and fatalistic wait-and-see anomie and they had to wait for the other one to see whether I would finally serve my purpose. Needless to say, third time was definitely the charm. The icing on the cake is that the second one finally grew weary of the anomie and hitched his wagon to the third one and I have been looking for a purpose ever since.

I am my brothers' keeper, but I don't think that is my purpose either; they are both capable,  whip-smart and strong—of mind, of spirit and of body. You cannot bend their wills and you cannot turn them from their path. You can try—many have and come out the poorer. So, I am not their keeper; that is not my true purpose. They indulge my sense of big brotherness from time to time, as do their wives, but I am no more the boss of them as the moon and the sun will shine in the same sky.

I don't think it is my purpose to make the world smile—or burn. The years spent in the company of the world tells me this is true—it was then and it is now. Boarding school, university, post-grad school, work—I made them all smile, but it was tedious and, quite frankly, terrifying. Some of the hard lessons from making the world smile is that when it stops smiling, rather than burn down its own universe, the world will turn on you, forget that you made it smile, and burn down yours. Remorselessly and pitilessly. So, never mind the crudity of it all, so far as I am concerned, the world can kiss my ass.

How I ended up reading law at Shivaji University is a mystery I cannot solve. I think it had something to do with why I am here, what my purpose is, but I don't think I was ever meant to be a lawyer, advocating for a client or acting for a government. All that seems quite unlike me. I do have a sense of justice and fairness, right and wrong, but I don't care enough about those things to make them my mission, my purpose—me. I have worked out what my purpose is not; when I find out what my purpose is—after being a son, a grandson, a nephew, a brother, a friend, a lawyer, a colleague, a lover, a partner, a loyal employee, an employer—I'll let you know. Perhaps I am meant to champion truth, justice and fairness and maybe I am not; I just haven't found the music to my song yet. Maybe She is a part of the music. Only the future and its gods know.