There must have been a time where you asked yourself the following -
“What am I here to do?”
Just like a diamond, life and us human beings are multifaceted. So are our questions. And recently, I found one facet to the question above.
We are here to be a Bartender at the club called Life.
Imagine yourself standing behind the bar. It’s one of those busy nights. Girls and boys of every shape, size, age and colour are present. Some are dancing. Some are chilling. Some, in the corner, are crying. Some are, somehow in all this madness, sleeping. This is Life — right here, right now.
You see a person walk up to you. They sit down on the stool and order a drink. You sense that they might want someone to hear them talk. So, while you make their drink, you start up a conversation. Now this conversation could go either way — good or bad. But it eventually ends, and the person leaves.
This is what you’re here to do in this life.
People will come into your life.
Some will come before you — like your parents and elders.
Some will come after — like your friends, siblings, acquaintances, strangers.
Some will leave as soon as they come — like your sixth-grade crush.
Some will stay with you till the closing time — like your best friend.
Some will leave suddenly, unannounced — like the loved one you lost before you could wish them goodbye.
Some will give you that chance — like your cute but old and ailing grandparent.
Some will break your heart — like the one you thought loved you.
And some will help you pick up your broken pieces — like the person you didn’t know but turned out to be your soulmate.
Some are there just to use you, abuse you — leaving a sour taste in your mouth.
Some are there to help you heal and grow — and share their drink with you.
Some are just passing by.
Some you will never meet.
And then there’ll be some who become your regulars.
All this while, what you are actually doing is having conversations. You are exchanging stories. You are learning lessons and sharing some of your own. You are giving wisdom and receiving some. You have debates and arguments. You share a laugh. Sometimes you are the shoulder they cry on. And sometimes they return the favour.
And then the closing time comes. You are able to serve a few last drinks and finish some conversations, but there will be some things that will be left unsaid. Some don’t want you to go. Some will be happy. You, too, might want to stick around a little longer, but you know your time is up.
So you close the bar, you pack all the love and lessons you’ve got here, and you leave.
That is what, I think, I am here to do — be the Bartender at the club called Life.