“Jack of all trades, Master of none.”
If there is a catchphrase that could capsule my 23 years of existence then this is it.
Being a Jack in a world ruled by masters means to be constantly reminded of not being the best. No matter how good you are in your fields of interest, it’s just never good enough for there is always a better one out there for each of them. But what if Jack wanted to be just a jack and not some celebrated master?
Ever since I can remember, I’ve been immersing myself in many sorts of activities mostly out of passion and almost never by any kind of coercion. How I loved being the centre of the stage even at the age of 4-5 that would later find a steady decline over the years as I gradually grow into the comfort of my cocoon and seldom find the need to display it before others. It’s no surprise that people from different phases of my life would pick different sets of skills to describe me. Often I’d find this sudden overwhelming urge to try out every single thing appealing to my senses at the time. Over the years, I felt my interests swinging back and forth from something to many things all the time leaving no other choice but to embrace them all.
To crave a vast multitude of simpler pleasures all at once is not for many, I guess. For people like us, the sheer ecstasy splashing out of messy acrylic strokes or vibrant ghungroo beats flowering katakamukha and alapadma* blooms in Alta dyed hands gives much more delight than the conceived idea of gratification arising from perfect craftsmanship. The primary reason to indulge in a variety of chosen pursuits is none other than the absolute bliss it leaves upon us even if we don’t excel in it. You don’t necessarily need to be good at something for it to be good for you.
Mastering a work requires patience, perseverance and more than anything else, time. So many things, so little time. It’s a shame that we only get a lifetime to tick off the ultimate bucket list, the same wherein we are also supposed to live up to societal expectations. No wonder when life gives me choices, I can’t help but choose them all which makes me a muggle version of Miss. Granger from Prisoner of Azkaban who turns up for three classes at once but sadly, in this case, no time-turner to the rescue. However, being a jack has always been quite comforting and satisfying even with the shortfalls. At the end of the day, it is up to the person to decide what’s best for them.
If two roads diverge in a wood, I would probably make a third one to add to the confusion.
Much love to all the jacks out there. ❤
*Katakamukha and Alapadma – Hand gestures (Mudra) in Bharatanatyam.