At 28, you have barely lived enough to feel old. But now, you can read the shit people are trying to put on you, and you won’t remain blind and passive to it.
No man’s land of time - this phase of life when, perhaps, you become someone.
When your self-imagination fatigues from popping around, trying to be this, trying to be that. You sit down and gather all the cumulative lessons of experience, to find the one central thread that is worth the actual plunging.
Where was I 10 years ago ? A provincial high school student from France, cross-fertilised between the country-side traditional life-worlds of my family, and the transversal impatience of my global pop-curiosity. A few steps into an equally unpretentious undergrad programme, I realised the scale of redemption my adventure could ensure, if only I decided to look at life opportunities with ambition and confidence.
Propelled by an exchange programme in the USA (Truman State University, whoop whoop), I could spot my next target. In an early morning of August 2009, I found myself in the cramming hot dust of a strange city : New Delhi.
And here you go, a couple moons down the line : seven years in India. And I contemplate the road. A few degrees to foray into intuitively-picked disciplines. A bunch of lessons on local politics and education. The organic sprouting of a rewarding practice of photography. Maturation of my musical identity, not ready to come out yet. A couple professional attempts. And many ripples to this one epiphany: that without a solid and harmonious self-knowledge, even the grandest of ideas will fail to the ground, delusive.
Shake it all energetically, and let it rest for a while.
Writing - here is the condensed product of this adventure. You can now find me somewhere in the sub-continent, energised between the inspiring determination of my girlfriend, and the infinitely kind playfulness of our young cat, Pani Poori. Laying the grounds and bricks of that which I am now focused on leaving to the world : my oeuvre. Slowly, imperceptibly : one day at a time.
Imperceptible. And yet, in just 10 years, my worlds have crossed.
Let imagination feed ambition.
Where were you 10 years ago ?
You can read my philosophical essays on samvriti dot com, where my life stories meet your favourite thinker.