It was a calm and cheery Sunday afternoon. We all had gathered at grandma's house to celebrate Raksha Bandhan. I tied rakhis to my brother and cousin brothers and became rich from all the gift money that I received. The celebration continued for lunch because mom and chachi had prepared delicious chole bhature. We also ate the pickled onions that I had prepared earlier during the week. Generally, we do not think much about who would eat first. It is a convenient and logical hierarchy that has been followed for years now. Since mom and chachi are cooking, they eat last. The kids - Gaurav and Darsh are usually busy chit-chatting and don’t care much about food. The youth - I, Kunal and Parth are expected to wait because, I mean, we are young and less prioritised. So the only ones left are my dad, both my chachus and Dadi. They get served first followed by us - the youngsters, then the kids and lastly the chefs. But, it’s not a steadfast rule to be followed every time.
Since bhature have to be deep fried one-by-one, everyone had to wait for their turn. Slowly, everyone had at least one bhatura on their plate. Dadi took her pre-lunch medicines and sat on the dining table with me, Chachu and Sonu Papa. Soon, it was the second round of bhature. Chachi was bringing fresh, hot bhature and putting them in a common plate kept on the table. Whoever finished their first round would take the next bhatura on their plate. Since Dadi had not started eating, we all kept insisting she take one of the bhature. But she wanted to ensure that no one was waiting with an empty plate. So she kept serving everyone their second round. Only once that was done, she served herself.
After lunch, Darsh insisted that Kunal and I play the board game ‘Business’ with Gaurav and him. So we all went to Chachu’s room, laid the board game on the bed and sat around it to start playing. Just a few minutes later, Dadi came to the room. She excitedly told Gaurav, “Aaja Munnu, tujhe jokes sunati hu.” (Come Gaurav, let me tell you jokes." Gaurav was engrossed in the game and replied, “Arey nahi.” (No, no) without looking up. I explained to Dadi that we were playing a game. When she understood this, she exclaimed, “Acha! Khelo, khelo. Mein toh aise hi bula rahi thi.” (Oh, continue playing, I was simply calling.) She left the room.
After finishing their lunch, mom and Chachi also came to the room. There was no space on the bed, so mom sat on the chair while Chachi just stood by the window. We were still playing the game and mom and Chachi were chit-chatting. Chachi just sat on the floor after a while as she was probably tired of working all day. Dadi entered the room again. I looked up and smiled at her. When she saw mom and Chachi, she immediately said, “Arey, aise kyu baitho ho? Mere room mein aao na, aaram se baitho.” (Why are you both sitting this way? Why don't you both sit comfortably in my room?) Mom said, “Nahi, bachon ke saath baithe hai na mummy.” (No maa, we want to sit with the kids.) Dadi smiled, stood there for a few seconds before leaving the room again.
She went and sat outside in the hall where her three sons were sitting and talking amongst each other. From the room, I get a view of a part of the hall. I stole a glance in between and saw Dadi quietly sitting on the chair looking at her sons. She wasn’t participating in the conversation. I am guessing because they were exchanging office stories. After a few minutes when I glanced again, she had gotten up from there and gone to her room. It was time for her afternoon nap.
I felt a deep sense of sadness when I went back home. Dadi was looking for some company but none of us spent time with her. Usually, this never happens - someone or the other is always in her room exchanging stories with her. I don’t even know if Dadi was feeling sad about it. But, I could sense that she was and it impacted me; I was not able to let go of it.
I tried discussing this with mom but she did not have the same views on it. So, I decided to look inward and question why I was feeling this way. I know that Dadi is a mentally strong person and she probably forgot about it after her nap. Then what was pricking me?
Loneliness makes me sad. Just thinking about someone being lonely makes me tear up. How would someone who does not have anyone they can call their own, feel? No one to share stories with. No one to share meals with. No one to take care of you when you’re sick. No one to spend quality time with. How would this person feel?
As I am writing this, I am reminded of a film called 'Bara Prata Lite ("Talk") by Lukas Moodysson (1997) that Samvartha Sir had shared with us during our screenplay writing course. It tells the story of a man who wants to talk to somebody.
There are 7.9 billion people on this planet. Logically, with so many people alive, there should be someone for every single person. But, logic is useless when it comes to emotions. It takes years to build a strong relationship and trust with someone. I cannot go on the street, approach a random person and become friends with them for a lifetime. Although, I won't be surprised if this did happen in some corner of the world.
I feel that my fear of loneliness is fairly new. It all started when I went to graduation college in another city, away from home. My work-oriented nature slowly started increasing the distance between me and my friends. I did not realise the gravity of the situation until I came to Mumbai. It struck me that the people I considered friends do not share the same equation with me now. It was extremely hard for me to strike a balance between work and personal life. I struggled to let go of work and make time not only for others but also myself. But, once I realised the importance of people, I decided to change myself. Since then, a lot has improved if not completely changed. I spend time with my family, I take care of my health better by exercising, drinking enough water, and eating fruits. I have a few friends who are like family to me - I talk to them everyday. I am not the one who always initiates conversations with other friends who I don’t talk with regularly, but if they talk, I do not ignore them in the name of work.
If I have to spell it out, yes, I do feel lonely sometimes when memories come back to me and I think of the number of friends that are left behind. But, on the other hand, I am good at letting go of things unless something triggers it again. I've realised addressing the emotions is a way better choice than suppressing them.
I do not like making promises but that just outlines my careless behaviour. So, here we go. I will make it a point to call or text my family and friends I care about more often and be there when they need me.
And of course, spending time with Dadi tops the priority list!
Коментарі