Sana Jalil Mela With so much madness going on around you, its hard to define space for yourself sometime. We all know that, we know times are hard. We know things are not easy in this society or any society, and in that case there is an endless pressure factor that keeps pressing our subconscious. What happens to the real substance? Often the real person, the real wish factor, the real need of the hour is ignored. Maybe ignored is not the right word, but the time factor and the way life runs, there, perhaps, is no space for it. Slowly it starts killing the respiratory system of the soul. More often giving you headaches, shoulder aches, suppressed anger, anxiety, etc, etc. The dictionary defines brain dead to be not responding to stimuli, not responsive at all. This is not a doctors note either. Its just a way to speak to you. Arent we affected in that case, with so much happening around us? Only because I realised that every other person whom I run into is tired, irritated, in no mood to share his real self and mostly brain dead. Its not just the people in our country, its a virus that has affected everyone on this planet. Its actually funny that before penning this down I was trying to speak to a couple of people about work, even friends for a good time out conversation. Its amazing how I had to wait for a better time. Perhaps, I myself could be a victim of unappreciated boredom. But all said and done, what is the need to highlight it? I think most of us do not sleep well, do not have conversations like they want to have. Sometimes we become escapists, sometimes just random people who just have random conversations that wouldnt add much to the living. It surprises me the way life is. But I am afraid we are forgetting to realise the small little secrets that life has to offer. A common persons life is mostly dominated by ways of making more money to make ends meet or political discussions that are highly uncreative and boring. There is little intellectual curiosity, all other conversations with each other mostly end up in arguments. Since we dont make much effort to redo much, there is little charm and challenge with whatever task we take up. Now how uninteresting does that sound? Exactly There must be ways to fix it. There, perhaps, always is a solution to our boring, dull, unproductive life. There is always a way to reach to our ownself. The reason we have said all is just to make you understand or at least question once, when was the last time you spoke to yourself? People often tell me sleeping helps, good music helps, driving helps, working out helps, making love helps, but in real these are all ways to reach yourself. Your body gets food, still has some oxygen to breathe and is one way or the other happy and unhappy with your monetary condition. So it has its alarms, it has its organs set to define when trouble arises. But when every other day, life just means trouble and ends at a note for redefining ideologies not knowing where to begin. Thats an alarm we all need to watch out for, thats your entire system on red alert. We know our troubles, we know our solutions. Its just as simple. We know what creates the problem inside us, we even know what aggravates it. Like I have mentioned earlier, we all have our ways to treat our problems. But these are short-term solutions. The bigger the ailment, the more time it needs for recovery. Maybe if not more time a better concrete solution. Even that we can do on our own, define remedies for our own system for it to live better. All it needs is a breath of fresh air, not the way it sounds but in a way that it actually reaches you. Redefining self with new colour palette and a big white canvas. This is not about hope, this is about choosing your colours.Redefine your design, kill that boredom in you. If today you read this, I hope you redefine your purpose, redefine the ways to be a great human being, and redefine the ways to overcome your misery. Eventually, you will never be brain dead, if only we realise there is more than one canvas, that each has its own colour redefined with age. We will never be brain dead, if life for us is just not our palette, but a canvas for rest, who have their own spot fixed. There is always another chance, thinking beyond yourself and refreshing impetus for boredom that kills. The canvas is out there, The notes for new songs, The colours have their language for you, The dreams can so come true, The canvas is out there, Singing a new song, I painted mine purple today, It brought me back to you. The writer is a freelance columnist.