Why Am I Alive?

Image courtesy of Marie Dashkova via Scopio

Why Am I Alive? Good question, right? You’d think there’d be some kind of solid answer, wouldn’t ya? But no. I know, I know, again with the impossible philosophical inquiries that I have no intention of answering. It’s morning, so in the mornings I often think the only reason I’m alive is to drink coffee. 

But alas, it’s not the worst thing to contemplate at 7 am.

I’m basically a five-year-old in an adult body—if something new or even remotely exciting happens, I can’t sleep. I did sleep last night, technically, but not enough to qualify as responsible. I got a new toy. By “toy,” I mean a job. I’m excited about it. Not just for the purpose or fulfillment or whatever people are supposed to say—but because it funds my Starbucks habit, which, as we’ve established, is central to my existence.

When I’m listening to music, though, everything shifts. Suddenly, the reason I’m here is to sing. Specifically, to perform full emotional breakdowns disguised as car karaoke. Sometimes I’ll drive out to wooded areas, windows down, playlist on, absolutely committing to songs like I’m headlining a concert no one asked for.

I am not talented. Let’s be clear about that. And I care about that exactly zero percent.

My best friend once described my music taste as “songs that make you want to slit your wrists,” which feels… accurate. I do love a sad song, I’m not gonna lie. Give me something dramatic, something aching, something that feels like it understands me better than I understand myself, or an eighties pop tune. Whatever I’m in the mood for. Newsflash-I’m moody. I know it’s shocking, but I like to blame it on my mood disorder, the Bipolar. Or I like to blame my moody, dramatic nature on my Punjabi roots. Either way, you try to figure out why I’m crazy…

And then, when I’m with my friends, the answer changes again. Suddenly, the whole point of being alive is conversation—the kind that’s fast, sharp, a little unhinged. Witty banter that makes you laugh too hard and think just enough.

In those moments, it feels like that’s it. That’s the meaning.

Image courtesy of Romy Fernandez via Scopio

I’m not sure why I’ve become so fixated on my purpose lately. I’m in this strange in-between place—happy, mostly—but aware there’s something missing. Something just out of reach that feels like it could tip my life from good into something deeply, unmistakably fulfilling.

Or maybe that’s just a fantasy, maybe I’m kidding myself. Maybe this is as good as it gets.

We live in a culture where we can’t get enough, and we feel we are never enough. Maybe I’m being greedy, objectively speaking, I have so much.

And yet, if I’m being honest, I also feel like I don’t have my shit together at all. Like I’m still pretending to be an adult instead of actually being one. Everyone else seems more solid, more certain. Meanwhile, I’m over here improvising, hoping no one notices I’m just making it up as I go. I have an almost comically high level of impostor syndrome when it comes to being human. I don’t feel like an alien exactly—but I also don’t quite feel like everyone else either.

Sometimes it feels like I’m just going through the motions, like this isn’t my real life yet—just the version of it I’m trying on. Like the real thing will begin later, when I’m more put together, more certain, more real. As if all of this is just a rehearsal, and I’m still waiting for the moment the actual story starts.

I think being alone can be enlightening because you learn who you are, but it can also be empty. When am I actually going to live this life—the one I have—instead of the one I imagined? If I’m being honest, I wish I were in a relationship, even though I know plenty of people in relationships are bored or unhappy.

Image courtesy of JP Walton via Scopio

But what if this is it—no dress rehearsal, no later—just this messy, unfinished version of me, already on stage and somehow still waiting for the curtain to rise?

I wrote this poem in high school. It went something like this: 

Cut-

Life is a grand play, 

and it was an idiot who pulled the curtain too fast. 

The theme song had already begun before he realized

that none of us were fully dressed.

Is god the idiot in that poem? The reason I bring up god is that I think the one thing I’m truly in love with is my spirituality.

People come and go, but the part of me that’s never left—the constant, steady presence—has been my own soul. I believe my spirit is connected to something bigger, something threaded through all the love that exists in the world. And when I really sit with it, maybe that’s why I’m here—to experience that love in all its forms. In music, in poetry, in relationships, in friendships, even in food. (And let’s be honest, food deserves its own category. I don’t eat to live—I absolutely live to eat.)

If I’m being real, the love of my life might be… me. And I know how that sounds. It edges dangerously close to narcissism if you don’t look at it closely. But I don’t mean it in a self-absorbed way—I mean that learning to love yourself is what unlocks your ability to love everything else.

Maybe that’s the whole point. Maybe I’m here to love—all of it. The joy, the connection, the laughter, but also the heartbreak, the disappointment, the betrayal. Because if you’re honest, there’s something about the full spectrum of it—the elation and the sorrow, the agony, the ecstasy—that makes us all feel alive, that gives us depth. 

Come on, admit it…you love the drama a little bit too, don’t you?

I like to say I’m passionate, I’m not going to go so far as to call myself a dramatic bitch, but if the shoe fits…

nina

A couple of friends and I started a podcast called 2 Curries and a Ranch. Listen here: https://2curriesandaranch.riverside.com/ or wherever you get your podcasts.

Imagine two loud, dramatic, hilarious Indian women explaining to a white man what it's like to grow up and live in America. Join us for the laughter, deep thoughts, and witty banter about life, love and culture. We tell it like it is, with honest, bold and funny stories, discussions and arguments. We explore boundaries and challenge norms. Join us for a good talk.

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