Sitting by an old man, and observing his persistent stare at things, I happen to realize how challenging these days must have been for him to live his life with these stares most of the time, when he sits isolated from his family out of his house for long hours. Today it’s been almost four years since he lost his long-time partner, his lovely wife. We must admit the fact that everyone suffers through such lonely hours in life at some point. However successful or fragile you are in your personal and professional life as well; you can’t escape these lonely hours in your life.
Although society has formulated a lot many norms and classifications to keep us engaged like religion, marriage, family and the likes, in our daily chores, it fails miserably to treat those unseen wounds of sacrifice, separation and silence, which are also the shortcomings of the same norms made by society. When a husband laughs at the frivolous jokes of his youngest son, it doesn’t mean he isn’t bothered much about the new bike which he has to offer his son on his upcoming birthday, choking his planning to go out on a refreshing holiday with his wife.
Yet, he doesn’t give up fighting these small stress-fetching bacteria that attack our daily peace in some sort of way, for he transfers his reason of joy from his love for his wife to his boy. And I call this process of life –Reason Diffusion of Joy, the new normal of optimism. Unfortunately, we, as a new generation, lack in excelling ourselves in this approach of living.
Consequently, people, at some critical times, lose the ability to alter their reason of smile and, apparently, undergo a deep mental change especially when they start delving into the secure-turned-insecure embankment of life. The embankment, which occupied our professional job, life-long aspirations, broken relationships, or even our dream bike. It could be anything close to our heart that we stored in our self-made embankment, which got abruptly broken by a torrential rain or any disastrous event in our life without any prior warning. This damaging agent can vary from person to person, vocation to vocation.
Now, these people mourning their loss change their method of living in no time, without warning us in any way. They live with us, laugh with us, but sleep alone in the darkness of their broken embankment. If this uncommon method of living is not noticed and treated on time, it turns into an ailment of guilt feeling in them, which gradually eats their potential to look out of this despairing embankment now, for another alternative of life.
In other words, these newly diseased people start rotting deep down inside, instead of analyzing to fix that broken embankment. And soon, they get succumbed to hallucination and other such depressing traumas. And by the time, we frivolously smell their self-made stale life; we need to attend their last rites.
I know each one of us is not a deep thinker or a psychologist either. However, we have been gifted with some of the most advanced sense organs. We can pay heed to these depressing termites hidden in our friends, fathers and relatives in our daily life chain. These termites are same as coronavirus; symptoms are easily seen, if examined closely, like when we talk to a person, we can feel their loneliness even when they’re surrounded.
Nonetheless, depression isn’t communicable like corona; we seem to be least anxious about this silent killer. Are we waiting for it to be communicable like coronavirus someday? If ‘No’, then wake up and start defending your friends from depression, before they are cruelly defeated by it one night.
And before I sum up, let me introduce myself. I’m none but the shadow of that old man staring at things for long hours, living a cut-off life from my family, friends, and everyone I had proximity to once. And it’s the self of mine, observing this aging man, who’s being eaten by termites of disappointment every single second. But this is it. I must tell myself at this very moment itself, I’m just 29 and I lost my wife four months back and not four years ago. Yes, I have the courage to accept this bitter truth, and hence embrace my life once again.
I felt like giving up before writing this, but now I understood one thing – had destiny wanted me to die, I must have died with my beloved wife. But I say no. My destiny wants me to live for my beloved, so that she could see the shower of rain on a dancing peacock through my lively eyes, smell the newly grown tulips around me through my knife-shaped nose, and hear, through my umbrella like ears, the quacks of ducklings chasing their mother in the pond, yonder at the foot of a mountain, standing firm meters away from me. Now, I understood that she will live so long as I do.