Stop.Rewind.Play

People ask me why I’m so attached to my music, movies and sitcoms. They come to mean so much to me. I know the details and dialogues and lyrics. They say my ipod is like another organ of mine. I think the laptop is also a big part of my life. Tonight I realize why I’m so attached to these things.

I come home to a quiet and lonely room. There is no one around to talk to and talk about how my day went. There is no one to ask if I’ve eaten or if I’m tired. And this silence at home kills me. These sounds.. the music.. the sitcoms…are what I come home to. They fill the silence. Make me feel like I’m not alone. And it plays even after I’ve slept because it somehow makes up for the lack of a companion and helps overcome the home sickness. It fills the void.

So I look for comfort in things like this that don’t demand or expect anything. They don’t even need you to fulfill any need of theirs. Probably the best companions one could have. These sounds make my world… my mind is filled and I can effectively block out all other noises.

In my world, silence is very loud and prominent and these are my only comforting options.

A little too much speed… a bad turn…. Mindless driving…. And one second of misjudgment…. is all it took… I remember shutting my eyes tight in anticipation of pain and death…. And I remember telling myself it will all be over in a while as I got thrown and got scraped and hit and bumped… But alas I opened my eyes to people running towards me… there began a small ache on my head… and the next thing I knew, I hurt all over… blood oozed. The pain suddenly overwhelmed me. I couldn’t think straight. I just knew one thing.. I needed my best friend around. The one responsible for this accident was yelling in disbelief at what had happened. As it turned out, I had more injuries.

I still don’t know why I went. Despite many protests, I went. I’m known to be the careful and responsible one. This once i went against everything I believed in and went through so much that I can’t explain it.

I remember friends rushing to me. Being taken to the hospital. The wound cleaning was excruciating. I shivered in defense. Held onto my friend’s hand. I still don’t know how she stood by all of that. But I probably wouldn’t have held on without her. They sedated me and I still couldn’t sleep. The minute I closed my eyes one scene kept flashing in my head. I came back home somehow. And when I finally made it to the hospital here… I cried. I let go and cried. My hair was cut off near my forehead. If you knew me, you’d know how much it meant to me… I held on. When I had to get on the damn plane and make it home, I still held on. With those bruises and the pain. But in the hospital, I cried. Sobbed and cried. In defeat. I finally gave in to pain. It wasn’t just the physical pain. But also emotional. The accident. A special someone’s hurtful words. I cried.

I realized later that when you’re in pain, there’s no such thing as pride or attitude or shame or dignity. You are as helpless as a child. You will give in to anything to just make the pain stop. I realized I understood why alcoholics were alcoholics. When you can’t relieve yourself of the pain, you will rely on just about anything. In my case it was my mom’s hand, a pain killer and the soothing careful touch of nurses. I don’t know how I made it through the agonizing 4 hours of wound cleaning and dressing. I don’t know how my mom watched and still was so strong. She cried when she thought I wasn’t looking. But she held me and helped me.

On thinking later, I wondered to myself about this near death experience. I thought that it was supposed to bring an epiphany. A flash… and my life would pass in front of me… or being subject to this level of clarity that would make my life’s confusions and sorrows fade away, the solution to all of life’s problems. Nothing of the sort happened. Maybe I’m more confused than ever. I keep thinking, what was this accident supposed to mean? Was it to say that I didn’t die for a reason? Was it to make me go through this pain to make me stronger in life? Was it to understand who would be there for me and who wouldn’t? I honestly don’t know. So you see the thing about pre conceived ideas… its bull. You really don’t know what’s on the other side until you’re there.

The pain is fading, the scars will take a lot longer. Being dependant is the worst thing possible. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t even lift myself to a sitting position. I couldn’t eat. I even got over my fear of needles… after this, stripping for medical purposes or getting another shot (if that will make me feel any less pain) becomes routine. I just say, bring it on!! Or, sure, once more!! Yay.

I had far too much time to myself. Staring into space, the blank walls of the hospital, switching channels and mindlessly watching everything and yet nothing. Nothing registered. I was in a world of my own. I couldn’t think well or speak. Pain makes it difficult to keep your patience. I feel so lost now. This is by far the most exciting thing that’s happened in my life. If you know what I mean by using the word “exciting”. Maybe I just needed something like this to happen to give me a freaking break. And yet two weeks later, I’m still clueless.. Life will go back to normal in a little while. What changes? Nothing much. Except, till this accident, I could relate with people’s emotional hurt. Now I can relate to the physical aspects of pain. Life still remains the same.

You know they say, careful what you wish for??? Well I probably wished for a change and some attention. This is certainly not what I had in mind.

All my life, I’ve been dispensable. People can do without me. People leave whether I like it or not… Sometimes people leave because there’s no choice. I wonder if it’s some kind of jinx. I wonder if it’s just the way my life is meant to be.

Starting with my father leaving me, my mother… our family…. For another woman ….or maybe because he couldn’t deal with my mother. Because running was the only thing he knew how to do. And he did it well. Isolated himself from my life. Not my sister’s. That’s blatant rejection. I don’t understand why even now. But I dealt with it. Tried to be strong for my mother…. She needed someone on her side. She needed a man in the house. I was the man. At that little age, I learned how to take care of myself. Till date, she says she never had any problems with me as a child. She also thought I had no emotions. She never saw my tears. I hid them to not hurt her and yet I was called the insensitive one. Atleast dealing with me was easy most of the time. Maybe it’s because I was accustomed to making myself invisible or as little a burden as I could be. Hell, there were bigger problems than me and my little issues. It’s been difficult. And I lost friends, made some who still exist, but at the end of the day, I know I have effectively distanced myself from problems and people and the issues that come with dealing with people. I run… cos that’s what I’ve been shown.

My sister got married to a wonderful person when I was 11. I didn’t understand why she had to go away. I kept thinking of one thing. She was the one person who protected me, kept me a child. She shielded me from my mom’s anger. She took my side. She took all my temper and stupid ego issues. And she was gone far away. My mom always loved her more. I couldn’t understand that either. I just thought all of it to be so unfair. But now I know it’s because my sister was my mom’s strength through the separation and issues. Again, I felt like I didn’t fit. Like there was a loop and I was out of it. I felt like that with my whole family. I still do, I suppose. I never fit in with any of my nephews and nieces cos they didn’t understand me or my life or the circumstances I grew up in. I had no one to take my side. And I felt like I was watching. Everything and everyone from outside. A step back where I could see everything happen in a separate world of theirs. I was in my own bubble. The bubble I created to try not to hurt myself. Cos nobody would understand if I was hurt. Nobody could do anything.

I made it to college. Living with my aunt was tough. She was a blunt person. Was. Yes, she died. They detected the cancer one year into my stay there. We had a good life though… she would wake up and see me off to college. Be there when I got back to listen to my stories. She was strict. But I finally felt that I belonged somewhere and someone wanted me. Maybe because she was as lonely as I was. We shared so much. I had better friends in her age group because they liked the child I was. I had a long distance relationship to handle too. And I thought I could make it work. I was wrong about that too. My aunt was the most special person in my life. There was not a soul to help take care of her like I did, or so she thought. I knew her best. I knew the house best. I knew what would relieve her of the pain. People came and went and just watched. I learned how to take blood too because her sugar levels were erratic. I slept at hospitals after college when she would undergo chemo therapy or radiation. I juggled college and her. Took care of the maid, her finances, the family…slept at her side, cos that was not a ritual I was about to stop because she was sick. She was the most wonderful person on this earth. In many ways she was trying to make me a lady. Taught me how to pray. Taught me how to talk to people. Taught me how to cook, how to keep the house. Taught me how to enjoy the little pleasures of life. She loved life. She was larger than life. She handled everyone in the family. Kept the problems and issues between people in control. Everyone feared her, respected her and loved her. I didn’t have many friends then… but my long distance relationship was failing and I met someone else. He seemed to make my pain go away. He was there when I wished my aunt would die, because I couldn’t watch her suffer anymore. He was there for the laughs and the tears. I had become accustomed to not sleeping and caring for her all night. She wanted me with her.

And then one day I walk back home from college, walk into the house, and run to her room to check on her and tell her how my day went. And she wasn’t there. The whole house had an eerie silence. My other aunt was there, telling me they had taken her to the hospital because things got worse. Nobody called me. And I knew that this could be it. I didn’t accept it though. Went to the hospital, talked to her… she couldn’t breathe and yet she asked if I had eaten. I went home to get things for her… on my way back I get the call saying she had passed away. It didn’t sink for a long time. Not until I got there. And all my cousins were telling me to go to her and kiss her goodbye. I couldn’t go into the room. I fought them all and cried so hard cos I couldn’t say bye. I couldn’t let go. But I did anyway before the warmth left her body and before she was as cold as stone.

We went through the rituals and I was all alone with my whole family around me. I shifted to a hostel where I knew nobody. I cried many nights. Found solace in my boyfriend who would alleviate my fears. I couldn’t sleep nights. I couldn’t stop crying. But all this when no one was around. My whole support system and world had collapsed around me with her gone.

I tried to move on, make sense of life.. I did… made it through my Bachelors. Broke up with my boyfriend a million times cos he wouldn’t treat me good. Other women, bad behaviour.. I think I put up with all that cos I couldn’t let another person go. I made a couple of good friends. That too came with a lot of new issues and feelings to deal with. I was learning how to keep friends and to make my life more meaningful. The boyfriend, I broke up with when I couldn’t take it anymore. I had taken enough. My friends helped me realize that I deserved better. And that’s one time I let someone go out of my own will.

I had to deal with lonely nights… silence around me… and then there were lots of moments to cherish. I took to partying and having fun cos it seemed to put all the hurt away. The music so loud that I couldn’t even hear myself think. People still treated me like shit. Like they could walk over me and I’d say, “do it again!!”

People visit me. Family and friends come down from wherever or walk into my life unannounced. I witness a part of their lives and they leave. With a hug and a kiss, they leave. Sometimes without a word or an apology. Sometimes leaving me with nothing but memories.

They never understood how much they hurt me with words and actions. They never understood how much them leaving hurt. People only cared about themselves. Again, I was out of the damn loop when everyone else just seemed to be a part of it. Bad things happened to me, good things happened around me… It was more like touch and go… I’d get a whiff of the goodness and happiness and it would pass me by…. Happiness is like the breeze. A light caress. I shudder and it goes away. That why I like the rains better. It washes away everything. Touches me and soaks me.

I’m 23 now. 5 years since I moved out of home to make a life for myself. I may have achieved something with regards to education and a job. But as a person, I’m still bleeding inside. I have a job. I have a few people in office I call friends. But they can look at me and just not see anything. They can say things and do things that hurt me and not feel remorse. I have two best friends…. One who has left the country. I know she’s there if I want her. But she’s still so far away. The other one, is here, but far away most of the time emotionally. I don’t understand that either. I have to stay away from friends in office cos of one guy who is insecure about himself.

It’s another morning. I’m by myself at home. And I’m making coffee for myself. Hell, I’ve been making coffee for myself and others for all my life and nobody ever asks me how much sugar I want. Cos they’re not making it for me. They never offered either. I still sip it alone. I still sit by myself and wish the day would pass by more quickly so that I could go to sleep and not think about it.

Nobody asks me if I’m ok. Nobody asks me if I’ve eaten. Nobody gives a shit if I’m drowning even. And people just walk out my door once they’ve drained the coffee. They walk out and never look back. My whole life has been about abandonment. About things happening to me, without being given much of a reason or say in it. About people turning their backs on me cos its that easy to forget I exist and just might have feelings. I wonder if anyone ever notices the inner turmoil. I wonder if anyone ever thinks of what a smile would look like on my face.

I’m still by myself.

Waited along the sidelines all along…for things I deserved, needed, worked for and wanted…. I just kept waiting and going ahead with the hope that someday I won’t be turned away. This thing called hope… people tell you it’s good for you..that every person needs needs it in measurable amounts. They seriously weren’t talking of people whose lives are based on that four letter word. They don’t tell you how much it will hurt when your hopes are shattered and you are rudely awakened to people around you, things they do that affect you and things that happen around you and to you.

The world is made up of liars. People tell you things they don’t mean..tell you things they think you want to hear. All these lies and all of the pretense and this thing called hope, nothing but a scam. You think it’s a cocoon. It’s a cage. Your cage. And I’m lying locked up in this cage believing, trusting, hoping. All of this is a joke and I’m nothing but a fool.