Letting go.

“How can you let go of people easily?” he asked.

“By giving them time and space, when they are sad. By not asking them what’s happening time and again when they say they don’t want to talk about it. By trying not to worry about them when they tell you not to do so. By realizing that you’re not important or close to them as you thought to be, after all people do share what happened when things go wrong no matter how closed off they are.

And every time, you feel like you’re starting to get worried, distract yourself. Read books – on loss, on happiness, on moving on. Watch a new tv series or movies – tragic, comedy, action. Go on vacations – with your family, other friends or alone. Take classes – dance, ceramics, kickboxing. Learn about politics, science and development. Attend events. Meet new people. Make new friends. Experience the world. Write about these experiences. Share them with your other friends.

And finally, resolve to start fresh.

So that when you meet them next time, you will realize that you’ve grown, and evolve into something else. Something they won’t be able to relate with. And when you talk to them, you will realize that they no longer understand who you are and who you’ve become. And you are a perfect stranger to them. That’s how you can let go of people easily. Because if someone isn’t ready to share what’s bugging them, if someone needs time and space from you during the bad times, then know that you never mattered enough at the first place.”

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Let the loss sink in

When does a loss sink in? Not when the exact moment you lose someone. You still are in shock. You will be in shock for another day or more. While the days are spent taking care of your mothers and grandmothers, you will wait for him in the evening. “This all is a mistake,” you tell yourself, “he will come anytime soon and say that this was all a mistake. That we had a wrong body and wrong person.” But you didn’t get the wrong person. The police did hand over his recorders, his phone, his diaries with his handwriting, his comb, his pen, his earphones and all of his belongings that would always be in his pocket. You wish you had it all wrong despite seeing him, lying in the hospital bed – dead. And when he didn’t arrive the first day, you prayed that this was all just a nightmare. That when you wake up the next day, the day would start all over again but without the incident.

The loss doesn’t sink in for the next ten days for there would be people you need to meet and greet. There would be rituals to perform, rooms to clean, dishes to wash. There would still be mothers and grandmothers to soothe down, cousins to talk to. But on the tenth day, when your grandmother, who has always worn only shades of red throughout your life, emerges wearing a plain white-cream sari and brown shawl, the loss sinks in. When your aunts have returned to their homes after the thirteenth day, when you are with your mom, dad and grandma, basking in the sun, when there is a space where your grandfather used to sit reading newspaper, the loss sinks in.

The loss actually sinks in only after a year or more. When, during one of those over thinking nights, you try to remember your grandfather’s voice calling you “Maiju” in the morning and you can no longer hear his voice even in your thoughts, the loss sinks in. And you will realize that it’s too late to mourn for the loss because all this time you’d been busy trying to move on, take care of your mothers and grandmothers and pretend to be stronger for them, that you haven’t really cried your loss off.

The loss will sink after many years of the loss. It will always be there as a hole in your world which cannot be refilled.

Sometimes all you need is a person, not whole lot of them.

Me ( To everyone) : I am SAD.

They: Why?

Me: Because I didn’t get what I asked for.

They: And what’s that?

Me: Time. (sobbing inside).

They: What time?

Me (To myself ): (Sobbing bad inside.) I definitely need a best-friend with whom I can share this so that I don’t have to share my stuffs with every single person online.