By Neeraja Hariharan
Claustrophobia. Most of you must be familiar with this word, meaning ‘fear of enclosed spaces’.
For someone who stayed crumpled up inside a dark womb ten months straight, for someone who spent the first 17 years of life staring at a wall, both black and white and the next 6 years staring at written pieces, both letters on a book, and the anxiety-writ -faces of people (again within four walls), claustrophobia is too frivolous a word to describe the state of affairs.
Yeah, but, does this ‘space’ always have to be an actual three dimensional space? Does it always have to be an elevator? A cramped up attic? A dingy public restroom? No, it can very well be a supposition. Every person holds a concept of ‘personal space’. It’s this small invisible bubble around them that they never let anyone else burst. Some hold this bubble like a second skin. Some like me, hold this bubble miles away from their self. Contrary to most, I love enclosed spaces. Not just actual spaces, but also enclosed thought frames. I think out of the box, but I love the rusty walls of the box. So, can you call me narrow-minded? No you can’t, for you don’t know the confines of my box.
Ugh, thought block, excuse me.
When does someone step out of their comfort zone? That’s maybe when they think the grass is greener on the other side. But have you ever thought, maybe on the other side, the grass looks greener because it’s fake? Actually , no one would have, no one could be such a cynical person.
Well, I drifted I guess. We were talking about enclosed spaces and suddenly we are talking about comfort zones. Wait a minute, are we subconsciously drawing comparisons between the two? You want to escape enclosed spaces, but not comfort zones? Bro, both of them are prisons in themselves!
For all I know, life’s not about stepping out of your comfort zone, it’s about conquering every place and making it all your comfort zone. Life is full of infinities. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities, like a bestseller book said. But in order to conquer these infinities, split them up into multiple infinitesimal portions and live them up to the fullest.
Okay, am I claustrophobic? Yeah I am, but not of the actual spaces. I’m afraid of being confined within the clutches of my own mind. Of being emotionally dependent on someone. Of being in a job where you are under constant scrutiny. Of this dark nothing that surrounds you when close your eyes. Maybe I want to break free of my widespread comfort zone and fly into the sky. Maybe this is a cry for help, maybe it’s not. You never know.
By Neeraja Hariharan
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