My Crisis of Existence


This article has been submitted by Shreeya Acharya for the CLATGyan Blog Post Writing Competition. If you think it’s a good read, ‘Like’ the article on Facebook (the button is at the bottom of this piece) or post a comment using the ‘Comments’ section below.

Before I start writing about my main topic, I take a minute to think about the time period of CLAT, and its experiences, and how miserable it was. How miserable the reaction was, and maybe, how difficult it was, to handle the pressure (or not). You might even get something very similar to what I’m sending. And, that’s how I get my own share of existential crises and the thought of originality!

I, typically, search for something that is unique, and fragment it into pieces, to find that crux which makes it rare. However, when it comes to writing or any art form, it is not really possible, if you think about it; this has been supported in the beginning of the essay. Now, this little doubt gives me a huge existential crisis, as to “HOW THE HELL I’M SUPPOSED TO WRITE, WHEN THERE ARE SO MANY PEOPLE WRITING THE EXACT SAME THING! WHY!” and makes me want to trash all of my composed stories, my ideas, and my earlier creations, thinking that this might have already been repeated in the history of humanity, and the originality that I’m supposed to possess, seems to fade away. Like Sadness, from the new film, “Inside Out”, I lay down, on the floor, roll, and cry that I have no purpose in life, and whatever I’m doing, is not significant! This quest of being original has driven me mad to such an extent, that I stopped writing, stopped feeling anything and just remained blank for the rest of the time (hence, the horrible CLAT score).
But, wait. I’m certainly missing out on a very important part, that is, I’m just thinking about me, and only me!

Instead of just lying down, I can, nevertheless, write down things, publish them, share them and most of all, learn from them, and from my audience! How to look past it! I can, just not care about this existential crisis, and run my brain to produce something, which I think, can change my life forever. Why should I think on the lines that something like this will happen, and all of my originality will cease to exist! As time runs out really fast, I have to use to the best of my powers, and give this world a piece of me. I really wish that I had realised it earlier than today.

As I conclude my so-called “essay”, I feel lighter. I’m actually looking forward to what life holds for me, because, nobody has seen the future, unless you’re Marty McFly, with a DeLorean, which would seriously creep me out (or excite me, as he is a badass time traveler)! I hope that this life of mine prevents me from having more existential crises, make me more creative, open to diverse things, build me stronger, and increase my love of sugar and spice and everything nice!