“Why me?” We all ask this question at some point in life. Through the constant trials and tribulations thrown at us, the fragile heart yearns for the answer. Rich. Poor. All men pose this question to the universe in some manner. This question approaching the meaning of the suffering we all endure is also explored in different branches of Philosophy. Existentialism. Nihilism. Absurdism. Determinism — you get it. Billions of people are all stuck around finding the question of this WHY…including me of course.

Sitting in a green room with a wooden desk on which I have another green journal containing the blank pages on one side and the other side with the lines drawn to help us write our thoughts in all sorts of the scripts— Roman script for me which is English’s script. As I roam my eyes down the writing worthy of qualifying me for that Doctorate degree, the one question stares at me with the dozens of goals written dozens of times at the midnight hour…”Why me?”

Let me cease my ostentatious rambling for now and actually introduce myself on the record. Zan-Von. Zan for Justice. Von for Hope. It’s in the pen name. Hope and Justice — the two morals I deconstruct and analyse in my tales….in my mind for now.

I am a Bachelor of Arts student who is pursuing Psychology and English. To make this exposition interesting for you fellow readers let’s morph this talk in a form similar to a story, shall we? My backstory consists of being diagnosed with Moderate Autism on the Autism Spectrum, the main problems were related to speech development, motor skills and sensory experiences. Resulting in delayed speech and walking on toes alongside many food allergies. With god’s grace I had the best parents who helped me in my journey of learning to live with my Autism and helping me develop my speech, walking and reducing allergies.

I went from speaking late to speaking at the speed of a bullet train and from getting rashes by eating Roti to eating even rice alongside pulses— I was able to conquer new milestones. Including me attending normal school which by the way was crucial to my development as a kid, something which a lot of children on the Autism Spectrum don’t have the fortune of. The way I learnt that cheating was wrong in a test after I was staring at the answer sheet of another peer like a curious child was truly an example of practical reigning supreme over theory. And my passion for cricket was shaping up to be my future profession. These experiences in my elementary school coupled with the blissful parenting and mostly amazing teachers made my elementary school.

Middle School came and…canon events happened. Bullying, victim of partiality. All of that and the teenage period of mine in sixth grade sowed the seeds for my strengths and flaws for my life ahead with the consequences too in the form of the concept Karma is. Jumping to the present day. As I stare at the calendar. 30 July 2025. 18 days of college have passed. 8 days present. 10 days absent. Be it because of my fever, the ink draped on the journal is shaped to convey the flaws and mistakes in my mind. Overall 7.5 SCGPA of both semesters with barely 35-40% attendance. No matter what the reasons are, the guilt is quite the thing of my failure to uphold the standards—the morals without any major consequences. Remember how my pen name is Zan-Von. Justice and Hope? That. That is my hyperfixation. With my passion for morals and the victory of the right over wrong, you can only imagine just how much I would adore superheroes— no matter how many flaws their writing has on most live action adaptations. If any piece of fiction has any hope, you bet all my banks that I will adore it..The banks which I shall steal from the future—

But overall the main question or as for the writing fans, the inner conflict of mine is…Why. Me. With the brilliant parenting, privileged life and all the lovely dogs I have at my home, I seem to get away with every mistake I make. Unlike a lot of people who ask God why THEY suffer, I ask God. WHY is the Special treatment to ME?

And no I am not self hateful for all the concerned ones but given my passion for Justice and the RIGHT, you can understand that my stomach just can’t digest the mistakes I have made without some karma being served to me. Was I Batman in my previous life? Because nothing else can explain how I got the perfect life. I was autistic and yet learned to live with it with the love and support of my parents, therapists and teachers. I grew up and messed up a lot and yet I am here. In flesh. Flourishing with all the gifts at my disposal. Was Karma waiting for me ahead or was I an anomaly in this world bigger than Miles Morales in his world, my virtuous side couldn’t accept it. So much so that in college I decided to push myself further to move on from the “Brilliant but lazy” route. Weeks upon weeks of study in exams in second semester and they were finished. And then came May. 2025. The final exam day had been conquered. The results were not on my mind, just the relief that it was over. My mom gave me a pizza party at night as I leaned in my seat feeding my sin of Gluttony. Something which was earned for every student who gave their best in the exams but never got such love from their parents. And that brooding expression caught up with me. And this time for my mom to witness its ugly beauty. She probed for what was going on. I denied anything. Silence. Another slice in my mouth and this time she was silent. Staring in the distance in a way that one would think the object was just a distant memory. I probed and she said nothing. Back and forth and eventually, she spoke out her mind. The words which will never be a distant memory. “You aren’t okay.”

I looked away, taking a large bite of that mozzarella. Letting that taste melt in my mouth, quickly with the flaw surfacing in the most blunt voice ever. I am fine.” Her brow furrowed, mirroring the disdain in my tone as she shook her head and her hunger was satisfied by my uncalled rudeness. I paused, trying to talk to her but she asked for a timeout. The rule set by me to allow both parties to cool down.

I was sitting restless in my room, scrolling down my phone. The swipes on the screen are strong enough to send the cracks of my phone quaking all over to the edge of doom of scrolling…pun indeed intended.

The swiping stops. My eyes squinting at the screen more than I stare at the mirror while cursing myself for my lack of virtue in my actions. The swiping stopped. It was a Spider-Man clip. I played it, finding the opportunity to watch one of my other heroes who gave us the line —  “With Great Power comes Great Responsibility.” But it wasn’t him who caught my eye this time. It was Aunt May, Aunt of Peter. The scene played out and then it hit me. The words blur in my mind but the lesson was carved in fresh ink in my mind. Which I shall paraphrase..

“Responsibility is not just performing your duty like a machine with no regard for the ones around you. That’s you feeding into your pride, for it represents one thinking about themselves in excess. Be it in arrogance or self depreciation. Responsibility is also to embrace the gifts you have been given and to find the balance with the ones around you for they keep your humanity rooted. It’s to find the balance…and embrace it as not a destination, but a journey and be responsible to keep yourself fine.”

As I begin to type the conclusion after paraphrasing the original quote of Aunt May which arguably said more in less words, I finally can be assured that the slices that I ate were not a sin. But truly earned. We often tend to be lost in our mess of misery trying to find the answer to “Why me?” Perhaps I did find the answer this time without trying. For someone has said. “The Harder you chase something, the farther it gets away.” The more I fixated on being virtuous, the more I got wrapped by my pride. For the true virtue is to perform action and do the right thing, and now I look at everything I have not with the eyes of guilt, but rather true gratitude. Maybe I deserve the gifts…and it’s my responsibility to use them, but to also thank god for it as opposed to rebelling against it and forcing myself to suffer in my own pride.

So at last…”Why me?” The question still lingers. I still don’t have a concrete answer after all. On why I was given this life. And maybe it doesn’t matter. And even if it does, it’s not worth the cost of depriving myself of love and beating myself up. To sum it all up and more which I can say in this final quote for anyone who for any reason looks down upon themselves.

For in the quest of reason we can lose ourselves, and with the gift of critical thinking — the virtue of faith shall never be sidelined with love for one’s own self.. The three combined lead a man to his true bliss.

Author: Kabir Harish Nair

This piece has been published as part of Meri Awaaz Suno – A Call to Every Heart That Has Something to Say, an initiative by Anupam Prayaas Foundation in collaboration with Beyond The Box. Because every voice deserves to be heard.