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Ordinary! The word sends a apprehensiveness downbound one’s spine, especially if it’s utilised to exposit a mortal or his ability. Well, if not a apprehensiveness downbound the spine, sure a opinion of worthlessness, of existence a loser.

Loser! Throw this word at a mortal and his self-esteem module be broken in inferior than no time. And, a unfortunate is not that assorted from existence ordinary, is he?

So, what differentiates the mediocre from the, well, extraordinary?

Ability?

If that is so, I staleness listen backwards to Van painter and his unfortunate patch he lived and his ensuant though posthumous success. If he had no ability, how become his paintings delude for jillions apiece now…no, not millions, I’m sorry, but hundereds of millions. Yet, Van painter died poor - for, patch he lived no digit bought his paintings.

Was he mediocre patch he lived and exceptional after he died?

What was it that denaturized after his death?

The answer, simply, is perceptions.

He was both mediocre and extraordinary. Or, if you like, neither mediocre nor extraordinary. He, just, was! And, he did what he idolized doing - painting.

So, ground this motion after the exceptional now? I conceive we hit every forfeited our minds. We hit forfeited our minds to others who hit forfeited their possess minds.

In some case, what is this newborn exceptional or is this newborn exceptional the aforementioned as the older digit - the aforementioned as the digit in Van Gogh’s time? Is it not meet others’ representation most what digit is? Is it not most letting others determine one’s worth, justifiedly or wrongly?

If I am ordinary, it is so, because others conceive me to be mediocre and if I am exceptional that is also because others conceive it to be so. It doesn’t stingy that I am genuinely mediocre or extraordinary.

Why, then, should I stop myself, my happiness, my being, captive to what others think?

Is it not sufficiency that I am bright existence what I am? Others haw conceive what they poverty but my healthiness module not be mitt on the shelves of their pawn-brokerages.

I would kinda be an mediocre but a bright Negro than an exceptional and sorry one.

Rajesh Kanoi (Jack) is a publicised writer, today experience and employed in China. Many of his short-stories, poems and articles hit been published, including a aggregation of short-stories, ‘From China With Love’ (Lipstick Publishing).

http://www.writingup.com/blog/oneinabillion

http://o3.indiatimes.com/kjack

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