Gaming has been a big chunk of my life so much that I always return to it. If I mull over the why, the only thing that makes sense to me is that maybe it takes me to a different world. The bizarre possibilities of universes that it unfurls in front of me are profoundly satisfying. To steer some life to fruition, to rail a derailed soul to purpose as opposed to the world without one, is oddly appealing. The fact that it gives you control of the protagonist in your hand and makes you spoon-feed them towards the finish line, feels rare. In the end, it feels like your victory in theirs.

Turn over all the gaming leaflets in my life, the thing I remember the most is how it has made me feel. The faintest memory of a visually appealing game was that of Mario that I had seen someone play in a shop. The fallen-back child was on his toes trying to catch one more glimpse of the unusual pomp. I had lost my mind over it. A thing that like existed in our world and I hadn’t heard about it. How was that possible?

I yearned for it so hard that I attracted it into my life, even though it took me years to finally play it. But then there were many games that had come during that time, and I was like a child browsing through playthings in a toystore.

Only a few things beam me up instantly, one of them is hands down gaming. I feel it hit my bones. Even though I register the pain of sitting for hours on my bum, I am numb to it.

My brother had always been my player two for the most part of my life. The constant bolster that had me covered at every junction. Only his interest, just like in a lot of things in his life, was short-lived. His inclinations changed from the imaginary world we thought was only ours, towards his reality. I figured out the hard way that maybe it was just me who was always more passionate about everything. That maybe I should have succumbed to moderation too.

Then people came, picked up the joystick and left. Many considered games to be a mere leisure to pass time and nothing more. Their seriousness at other things in life baffling all the same. Some played with a passion to beat their peers and not to enjoy the sport. There was nothing bona fide about their proclivity. I guess it is about numbers for some where they take it to their beds to find their good night sleep.

I had trouble finding player two ever since. Later on I figured out that I never needed a player two after all. Any support was good, but it was always dispensable. You are born and you die alone, that remains the ultimate truth. The only company that stays with you is you. That second player was and is always you. Once you establish that you will never be alone in any of the games you pick. You will not need someone watching your 6, coz you will make fewer mistakes, or maybe learn from them and then make even fewer.

It is hard to imagine a bigger thing taking over your core interest so much that you never return to it. People choose to forget things growing up, I refuse to believe that you ever mature. Deep down you are always that child bowled over by Mario. There is always a core memory that jumpstarted your inner being. You will still be on your toes when you find that trigger.

For me watching a game is that trigger, relating to a game’s protagonist is reflective of my empathy towards human predicament, and fingers running through a joystick would equal none. I hope it remains so even when I meet the developer.