To the young girls and boys
Today sitting alone in a café, having my third latte I want to talk about us- the urban nomads. In our quest to find us, somewhere we all are loners trying to breathe. You know cities can be the most lonely spaces in nights. I try to write and i think there is a writers block. I go to a café, I have been fed with the idea that J.k. Rowling created the whole world of Potter in a café.
After numerous coffees and few rubbish drafts, I look at the cafe owner. I think he knows my deepest secrets, I think he knows that I am a vulnerable piece with just a strong looking packaging. I open my phone and enter the world of Instagram where everyone is happy. I think we have found the key to happiness- Selfie and captions that do not suit the pictures.
I come back, I clean my bed , I bring all pillows and keep on bed just to make sure there are no vacant spaces. There is a pink elephant stuff toy which I don’t remember who has given it to me. Maybe a junior who was fond of me or maybe that girl I shared a flat with. I hate pink but I am sure I may have never said that: Not to the pink ugly toys or to the pink sari that a girl claimed to be best friend gifted me on my birthday. I drink water every minute. I am just trying to say a fuck off to the feeling of being lonely.
Everything has changed, the pale-yellow colors of wall that I grew up with have turned into aquamarine blue, the woman who sold flowers at the small temple on corner is nowhere to be seen. You know we do grow up but never grow out of the familiar world etched in our mind.
We want to stay back, stay back in lives of people we think we are important. I want to stay back in the anklet that has bells that sound like love, I want to stay back in a white coffee mug that dad sent me. I want to stay back in the books that I own, scribbling my name, a faint smiley here and there to remind the person reading it that I stayed back. I want to stay back in a diary with yellow pages where I wrote many messed up poems on love. I want to stay back in the mickey mouse sweater that once was my most prized possession. I want to stay back in the eyes of the boy who used to look at me always during morning prayers but never said anything. I don’t remember his face clearly now. So in an attempt to stay back everywhere, are we forgetting to hold back too.
In our stride to be independent, we have married loneliness and it’s there everywhere around us like a possessive love interest. I find it there on the table lamp kept at bed side, between the pile of books I keep ordering, the chilli flakes lying on floor since the day I ordered of the pizza and a calendar which is still showing February.
You realize there is a set pattern with all of us, however happy we seem on our social media feed, we are lonely by choice.
Don’t fall into this trap. DON’T.