Epiphany at 30: Love, loss and everything in between
I’ve always had an unbridled fascination for travelling. It has a lot to do with how I grew up. Being brought up in a protective environment, I was bound to explore the world through books. After leaving my hometown for further studies, I realised that there could be multiple worlds beyond the landscape of mountains and literature.
During a recent trip to a beach, immersed in the clamorous quietude of the coastal air, I had some unforeseen insights. Maybe, it has a lot to do with the fact that I have entered my thirties now and there are worlds, which seem to be slipping by. While sitting on the rocks near the beach, I was surrounded by people of all kinds. The laughter, chatter, cries and noise were overpowered by the sound of the waves. The ensuing music calmed my stubborn anxiety and eased the insecurities weighing me down.
However, as I spent more time there, I started became conscious about the impermanence of the moment, the fact that I’m a mere visitor. The serenity of the atmosphere was clouded with the apprehension of the moment not lasting forever.
As we grow older, the idea of things/ people getting left behind becomes pronounced. We tend to become more vulnerable and sensitive about the idea of impermanence. Call it an epiphany or whatever, but during those moments, I understand something new about life. I believe life is deeply felt in moments when we experience two strong yet contrasting emotions; for instance, meeting a beloved and feeling intense delight paired with a sharp fear that you might lose that person. It happens when you are on a trip to a beautiful destination and realise the transience of it; it occurs when you touch a newborn and look at them with affection for the beauty that they embody yet the crippling fear that they will grow up soon and the innocence will be lost forever.
When we are in our teens, we believe in miracles, hope for the moon and howl inconsolably at our losses. The possibility of having time on our side is a major comforter. With every cakecutting, the idea of loss sinks deeper. As we age, the sensory delight of having a tub of ice-cream would also mean high sugar levels and more sweating out. Being a parent is a joy like no other but it would also mean a bunch of sweetsmelling sacrifices that would mean lesser socialising and minimal me-time. Being married would mean a pleasant addition to one’s life but would also result in fewer solo trips, less of I and more of us.
I believe life happens to us most profoundly and poignantly when we fall in love with it yet we sense that this might not last forever. The rest is about accepting and making peace with the other emotions that spring from this unlikely union for example, the feelings of despair, possessiveness, insecurity and attachment.
Life after all isn’t just about gains and losses. It is about getting one thing and losing something in return; also vice-versa. The point is to make peace with some Monday blues, bask in the glory of the Wednesday greens to uninhibitedly relish the much-awaited Sunday cheese.
THE POINT IS TO MAKE PEACE WITH SOME MONDAY BLUES, BASK IN THE GLORY OF THE WEDNESDAY GREENS TO UNINHIBITEDLY RELISH THE MUCH-AWAITED SUNDAY CHEESE.