I was born on this ship and I know I will die on it too.

I had no say in my birth; a certain sperm met a certain ovum determining my constitution, my very soul.

I know I am not invincible and deep down I know I have no control over my own death but I live my life as if I do.

The ship has no direction. The force of the ocean determines where I go and when the waters are still, the ship remains still for several days, months, and years, by a piece of land.

People sometimes disembark and explore the piece of land if they are allowed to by the guarding sentries.

Interestingly, babies are born only while the ship is still by some piece of land. I was born when the ship passed by the Indian subcontinent. That is why I am known as an “Indian,” and, miraculously, I adopted all the traditions and cultures of that land.

That is why I grew up with certain sensibilities typical to India.

Some sneak in, past the sentries, thinking there is more happiness to be found there than on the ship.

It is a risky thing because they are then deemed illegal and have to remain on that land for months, years, their whole lifetimes, even, because the sentries that guard the door won’t let them back on the land if they choose to leave and get back on the ship.

I am told this is often a sad thing because most don’t find happiness inhabiting a particular piece of land as the ship sails on.

And it is true. Happiness doesn’t lie in the physical things you own on any piece of land.  It lies in the thoughts you disown because they are not conducive to utopia.

So I stay on the ship and wait for the waters to take me wherever they want to take me. It isn’t because I am controlled by a wooden ship that could drown in a minute. It is for the ideas that fly out of my chest and find a home in a culture completely alien to me,

Because, you see, that is acceptance. Acceptance of being illegal from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. From the veins around my heart to those that drain my brains.

When we speak of illegal, does anyone think about the “permission” we sought to enter this world?

In the end, I have decided to stay on the ship where I need no permission to stay and no intermission to leave.