The Need to Belong

Saturday the 18th of July 2009.

I’m moving from this home. I’m saying Goodbye to a home I dwelt in for close to two years. I never even liked the place much. Yet, I’m filled with a heaviness knowing I wont roam around these floors, have these walls to lean on, have these windows to sit by. I’m moving into a beautiful house. I love how it looks. Over the last 15 days, I’ve been thinking of how I’ll decorate it, how I’ll make it my new home! This sudden sense of familiarity that I’m going to leave away filled me with a yearning.. to belong… I feel a sense of belongingness to this home. Is it cos I stayed here too long?

I wonder why we feel this way… Why is it that we associate ourselves to something external, something outside of us and want to make it our own? The teddy bear I held onto, the books lying in my bookshelf for years, the furniture I liked, the blanket I cannot sleep without… the people I cannot live without…

Why this need to hold onto something with all our might. As if life itself would come to an end if it were to be taken away from us.

I’m sitting by myself in my dining room, listening to the nightly sounds of life – a bike finding its way on the pot-holed road outside, a child crying in a house upstairs, the television in my neighbor’s house, the rain pattering on the wall outside, the wind blowing hard into small crevices somewhere. Its been a while since I’ve had time alone, by myself. I got so used to having someone around that the thought of not being around him would fill me with a sense of loneliness. Its been a while since I felt at peace with solitude.

I cried today. I didn’t like how needy I was feeling. I cried not because I didn’t feel loved, but because I didn’t want to feel unloved. I cried because I wanted to feel self-sufficient. And yet, it slips away from me every time I try hard to hold onto that feeling.

I do not like not being in control knowing fully well that if I let go, I will be in control. Life is such an irony. Love should be liberating, not binding. It should be exalting, not denigrating. And here I am, gripping with my odd state.. that of feeling something between wanting to feel loved and not wanting to feel it.

Thursday 23rd July 2009

Once again as I sit by my window and feel the cool breeze that I know I will miss, a sudden realization dawns upon me.

I cannot hold on to the wind…

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And I cried for the doom of mankind

I am enraged.. shaking and shivering.. out of anger…


What do you do when your rickshaw bumps into a biker with a passenger and breaks his petrol tank so that it starts dripping from the bottom?

What do you do when the biker and the passenger get off and whack your rickshaw driver six times one after the other smack on his face?

What do you do when you realize that the bikers are educated and you know that they will go away after they’ve vented their anger and their testosterone levels dip and will feel much better showing off their strength and masculinity because they managed to spank the guy into numbness?

What do you do on realizing that you can’t watch this way and you get off and tell them to stop behaving like idiots, that this is not going to solve the problem?

What do you do when you finally intervene and tell them to stop acting like uneducated fucking fools on the top of your lungs out of sheer anger and frustration?

What do you do when other bikers, other rickshaw drivers and spectators who were on their own way only seconds ago have decided to stop by and intervene and tell YOU to stay put inside the rickshaw or leave because its none of your business?

What do you do when you’ve been trying to beat sense into two 30 year old men that this is not how you deal with a problem?

What do you do when they tell you this is the only way to solve the problem?

भेन्चोद, मादरचोद, गांडू, साले, चूतिये, हरामखोर, भोसड़ी केऔर गाली दो उसकोचार थप्पड़ और मारो उसकोतब जा के प्रोब्लम सॉल्व होगा…”

After 15 minutes of my intervention, of shouting and yelling and trying to make people understand…
that’s what I did….!

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