It has nearly been a month yet I feel the discomfort of decades for not being able to pen-down the million and more that I have achingly felt in the days that I haven’t been able to write for myself.
I have come to realize – what a privilege it is to be able to write, to be able to put your thoughts into words; to be able to comprehend your thoughts enough to generate an ideology – a perception, a notion, a theory; to be able to think, to have a mind that can think; to have a working brain that stimulates that mind; to have a heart that can feel the vibes of the mind; to simply have a heart; to have a heart that is beating; TO BE !! …TO LIVE!!
We often tend to associate the word “Privilege” with a fancy job, a high status in a society or, a stable and growing savings account – and a lot of things that tip – toe around these lines. Anything that is above an average style of living is termed a “privilege”. Anything beyond basic needs and necessities is a “privilege”.
All that is remote and unreachable equivalently to every individual is a “privilege” – Until you are forced to understand that privilege is the very fact that distinguishes you from an individual who eats out of the garbage to stay alive; from a mother who lost her child due to no fault of her own; from a wife who doesn’t see a reason to live anymore after witnessing her husband’s death that occurred whilst he was trying to keep her alive and safe and most importantly, from a corpse.
Perhaps it is because most of us are under- “privileged” when it comes to truly understanding the quintessence of life !
I had the “privilege” of watching a video earlier this morning that portrayed a research, carried out by a few young boys – At first, one of them randomly enters a food court and pleads very gracefully expressing his need for food. Not one person responded positively – for obvious reasons of human awkwardness, creepiness and simply the inability to be concerned about another’s plight. At the other end of this story, two homeless individuals were offered food and money as a gesture of kindness and were told it was part of a charity program, which they very happily accepted, after perhaps starving for days and living miserably without any financial assistance for God alone knows how long. When the young boy from the former scene of the food court approaches them, expressing his hunger as he did earlier with those indulging in various varieties of food – he is most enthusiastically and generously offered both the food, and the money by those homeless individuals.
Is it not a privilege then, for a poor homeless man, that he can perceive misfortune way more than a man who has it all, and in turn go out of his way to help someone knowing the pains and plights of being in the similar situation? Who is truly at privilege here?
A few days back my son was trying to explain to me in his half-words and still-developing language skills about a scene in the animated movie The Lion King. He went on mumbling with fierce eyes and remarkable expressions while I watched and understood the privilege I shared in that moment. A privilege because tomorrow he would be a day older, a few words better and a mind wiser – that would be another kind of privilege of course, but still not replacing what I experienced in that moment with him. The privilege was mine.
I’ve known my husband for a little over 10 years now. We’ve been married for the past 4 years. The privilege has been mine to be able to grow with him and look back at the fact that I’ve seen him turn from boy to man to the amazing father of my children.
The roof on the top of my head, irrespective of its nature and kind is my privilege; the food on the table irrespective of the variety, is my privilege; My family is my privilege; the five essential senses that are healthy and working in my body, is my privilege; each and every cell in my body, each and every fraction of a second in my life, is my privilege and the list of privileges I endure are slowly going beyond my comprehension, now that I’ve sat down to count.
Someone else having it better or bigger does not take away my privilege. The privilege is mine.
There is privilege in some of the biggest things in life but the unbelievable & inconceivable privileges are most found in the tiny unnoticed details which move on quicker than our realization of them.
If you’re able to move around physically, you are privileged – If you aren’t able to do the same but can breathe and have your heart beating with life – it is still a privilege!
As Billie Jean King once stated, even something as negative as “Pressure is a Privilege – it only comes to those who earn it.”