Running in the Wrong Direction

 I recently realized I was running in the wrong direction. I kept running, ignoring the mockery and stares of those around me, and their ridiculous questions: Why are you running? Why in the wrong direction? I stopped for a moment to look around and saw no one. After sitting on a rock, I wondered, "Where are the others? Am I running alone? Who am I racing with? Is this the right direction? I've been running for so long, but what have I achieved? Would I have been deprived of what I have if I hadn't run? Have those sitting around achieved their goals in life without running? Will I continue running alone? Or will I return to the starting point? Or will I stop? What is the measure of victory or defeat?"

And the answers screamed from within me: You were running against the current. You thought you were special, but you weren't. Others abandoned you because what you were chasing wasn't logical or rational. Your supporters fell away one by one, and you were left alone. You were racing against yourself because you set an impossible goal in the wrong place, time, and circumstances. You didn't run fast enough, and you couldn't exert more effort. You achieved nothing; you wasted your time and energy for nothing. What you achieved, many others achieved without the slightest effort. And what did you stand to lose? Your job, which was given to those less qualified than you, and which you had secured before even starting the race. Ironically, that job, which came to you without your seeking it, is all you've gained in life, and it came without any struggle.

You wasted years of your life among books and in taxis, traveling between governorates in search of knowledge in a country where knowledge is not valued and people are divided between the worried and the charlatans. You postponed marriage and having children, and you caught up with the end of the marriage train. Your advantage that attracted the groom was that you were studying, and you discovered that you were living the cold, lifeless life of intellectuals. You enter the homes of your relatives, and your heart is filled with joy and happiness due to the children's shouts, noise, laughter, and the wives' complaints about husbands who are jealous or concerned. If you return to your home, you find it cold and devoid of the reasons for life. You ask yourself, should I return? This option is no longer available, as returning is impossible. Whether you stop or continue makes no difference after all these years. Nothing will happen that hasn't already.

And after all that, you still wonder if you've gained or lost? How foolish of you! You kept mocking those around you for mocking you and your choices, while they moved on with life together, laughing and crying together, comforting each other, sharing their pain, melting the coldness of the days with the warmth of their gatherings, and lightening the heat with their laughter and their mockery of everything. But you kept racing against yourself, thinking you would succeed in achieving what others couldn't, while you ran and ran alone in the wrong direction.