​Okay Being Average

Right now a guy is all cuddled up in his blanket watching a movie on his laptop. Today was like any otherday for him. He got up in the morning, made himself a cup of coffee, had cereals in breakfast, took a shower in the afternoon, wrote “n” numbers of emails, attended calls, walked his dog, ate dinner.

When you would see him, you would call him average. The world would say he is just another guy. Well, indeed he is average. There isn’t anything amazing that he does, or in anything that he does. He wakes up and goes to bed just like every other person in this damn world. His coffee brand for once might get changed but the way he beats his coffee never changes.

Right now he is watching a show just like an average human. He doesn’t approach a film or tries to analyze it like an artist. He enjoys it just like he enjoys writing and singing songs in between the busy moments of his life. The world only knows about the 100 unread work emails, but it does not know about 30 drafts – stored with some beautiful poems, some unfinished piece of writing, idea starters for a song, random words waiting to turn into something.

He is one of your average folks who has his own average struggles, bathroom speeches, and dreams. He is okay being average. He is okay being called average. He knows that being average does not mean being ordinary. He knows it well when he sees his dog catching the same frisbee every day like he is doing it for the first time.

Kritika Vashist


​What do you want to do next?

I have been on this vacation with you for the last few months. It might seem like one of those long vacations one would dream of, but we know that this hasn’t been quite like that. When one falls in love with a place, they only wish to stay there and never want to leave. I guess, it happened with me after we saw that sunset behind the mountains together. It was the same sunset, but what the blue did to me, the orange glow of the dusk couldn’t do for you. Perhaps, it wasn’t  enough to make you stay even for one more sunset. 

Did we plan what our last destination would be? I do not remember us deciding where and when do we stop, or how do we go back from where we started. Maybe we are acting like kids, but it feels good to know that the happiness of being foolish is real.

There is a playlist of memories that I have unknowingly created with you on this journey, and whenever I close my eyes to listen even while I am living a few of them, my heart tells me that this vacation is going to be the longest one that it will carry. I do not know if I like to hear that, but I don’t mind believing that it’s true. I am not afraid of forgetting. I’m afraid of not remembering them enough.

I have been on this vacation with you for the last few months, and I believe you enough to know that we are only going to visit good places. I do not ask you where you want to go next, but I want to ask what you want to do next. It’s getting a bit chilly today, so before we begin would you help me light the fire? 

Kritika Vashist