In 1984 there was a young girl,
just after her tenth birthday in a boarding school in Bengaluru in the state of
Karnataka. Her family over three thousand kilometres way, she was sharing a
dormitory with seventy girls. The high beams created a never-ending ceiling and
the stain windows brought the moon in a kaleidoscope of colours that made her
weep for familiarity.
Just then, to her left through her mosquito net, a hand tapped her on the shoulder and reached for her left hand to hold and to her right another hand reached out to hold her right hand. A voice followed which everyone could hear “We create a circle of love when one of us gets home sick, look we are all holding hands, in here we are your family, good night Hodan.”
Yes, that young girl was me!
Fast forward into my late twenties, here I was busy
making reservations five nights a week, staying at home or being still was not
an option, fear of missing out is what drove me. To carry the right-hand bag,
be propped up by a well sought out pair of heels, see and be seen was the
order of my life. Amongst this crowd, cocktails and music I was always lonely.
Just then, to her left through her mosquito net, a hand tapped her on the shoulder and reached for her left hand to hold and to her right another hand reached out to hold her right hand. A voice followed which everyone could hear “We create a circle of love when one of us gets home sick, look we are all holding hands, in here we are your family, good night Hodan.”
Yes, that young girl was me!
 |
| 1986 - winning and thriving at boarding school |
The need to dump the day: I have had a horrid day I wish I could
talk it through with someone.
The need to share problems: I am holding onto so many problems I
cannot carry them any longer, I am scared.
The need to interact: I need to just speak to a person, I feel I
have no friends.
I created a persona most people would comment
on. I didn’t have any problems. I was a recluse and liked my own company. In my efforts to rid myself of the loneliness
in my twenties, I only added to them. Shedding the old without replenishing
this void with quality interactions was my mistake, coupled with my lack of
trust that people will accept me for just being me.
Poem about suicide written in my 20’s
Stand in the south
pier he whispered in my ear,
last night in my dreams.
As dawn breaks light he
promised to hold me tight,
he is coming for me.
For he is my man, he
is my perfect man.
He is coming with gifts, a life and happiness,
he is my
perfect man.
I wear my best clothes
and stand as he told,
with fear in my eyes.
I cannot wait I wish this wave can
take me there.
As down breaks light,
I jump for my life
he promised if I, he will be there.
I cannot even see or
hear; the water takes me down.
At the bottom of the
sea, there he is waiting for me.
He
holds my hand, I am higher than the sea and the land
with my perfect man.
I am in my forties now, I have
learnt to not fill every second of the day, take time to breathe and use my
free time to do things I enjoy on my own. I know I could free fall without a
parachute and my friends would catch me. The bond and depth of our
relationships makes me feel lucky, I love them all dearly.
I have learnt the absence of
interaction is as equal to the lack of quality in my interactions because both
have made me feel lonely. My friend base
is about values, experiences, thoughts, love, empathy and less about
aesthetics.
Loneliness
Society has excavated you and me
To feed the systems and make it money
Heed from sharing in case we are deemed puny
Give up our voice in return for four walls
Our very own prison with hedges and lawns
The vacant space that yet aches needs to be heard
A social construct that only you and I can mend
Make that call not a storyline in our own head
Loneliness is the plague of our times,
not addressing it
will be our true crime.
Hodan Noor, October 2018
