It was inside a room that housed about a dozen people, somewhere far from the madness of the office, further away from that of the city, on one Saturday evening, during an offsite and in the middle of what was a team-building workshop for a group of managers, that I first heard someone say, “I don’t have a passion!” The trainer tried hard to dismiss that as a ridiculous statement. After all he made his bread and butter by making people discover their ‘passions’. Colleagues and onlookers must have thought of him as a maverick. But for me that came across as an extremely candid statement. Not only was it an outright honest confession but also was it backed by the courage of someone to stand up and admit something against a common belief that passion exists and that it exists for all. Everyone else in the room had conveniently camouflaged what were vaguely their interests or pastimes as their passion.

Fast forward to today when my husband, standing in the middle of our rectangular balcony, its perimeter lined with odd sized plants that long needed attention, quipped that I find some alternatives to pursue even if I couldn't find means to pursue what truly interests me. “Like I have found gardening even if I cannot do woodwork”. That got me to think. Is the sole purpose of life only to keep oneself eternally occupied leaving little or no opportunity for your mind to think or your heart to express a desire? There is no denying that the drudgery of everyday life saps the soul, that the predictability of a routine makes us comfortable like slipping into an old pair of sneakers and jeans, that the excitement of living up a weekend is often dwindled away in ordinary chores, that it’s easier to put the heart’s desires to rest during the day than it is to put the mind to rest at night, yet a day arrives when you begin to realize that life is not about keeping yourself occupied. Instead, it is about occupying yourself with what is your life or at least fragments of it. That may not necessarily be your ‘passion’.

‘Passion’ is a strong word which is often used generously to give a slight impression of what is sometimes merely our interest. Passion in my opinion is something that drives you crazy, something that holds a position above everything else, for which no sacrifice is too hard to make, and something that would make your life meaningless in its absence. Everything else that makes you happy is ‘interest’ and an interest that you pursue regularly is a ‘hobby’. With these home churned definitions I do not have a passion either except if passions weren't about activities alone but also about people or possessions. With that broader definition, my passion would be my family. And quite undoubtedly a passion cannot have an alternative or a substitute. Your passion is a constant force that drives you in your life and stays with you from and until as long as you can remember.

Interests on the other hand may be more circumstantial. The ability or willingness to follow them might be governed by factors which may not entirely be within your circle of influence. If someone decides to expand or shift the circle of influence then that would be passion - something above everything else. Interests need to be nurtured, passion feeds off you. Interests are at your discretion, passion is compelling. Interests can exist in conjunction, passion thrives alone. Interests are like friends. If you don’t keep in touch you might lose them. They are like girlfriends; difficult to maintain but hard to resist. And now, as I look up from my laptop screen at my husband who has just finished toying with his tools and arrived drenched in sweat singing a song by comfortably messing up the lyrics in his usual style, walking strong footedly around the bedroom, he seems like a can of Red Bull – full of energy fizzling from the core. That is what interests do to you when you follow them even for a while. I just opened my can by concluding this piece. Cheers!