Of Loneliness

Had Francis Bacon been living at this hour, he would have certainly added to his long list of Essays, another having the same title. With the world becoming more and more crowded, loneliness has caught up like an incurable disease which has of late taken the proportion of an epidemic. However, the focus has been more or less on those who are visibly lonely: old people abandoned by their children, widows, a single child, a single man or woman, an expatriate (sometimes nuclear diasporic families), etc. And because people are usually afraid of being lonely, they have, in desperation, found ways to ward off their loneliness. For, frail old people we have old age homes; widows sometimes choose to remarry; a single child is sent to the playschool very early; single men or women are urged on to tie the knot; an expatriate takes no time in joining or sometimes forming communities abroad, and so on and so forth. We are all too ready to hold hands and form a sacred circle to keep away the demon called LONELINESS. But do we really overpower loneliness through bonding? Do we? Understandably, if we do not have anyone to share our deepest sorrows, or our biggest achievements, nothing could be more depressing than that. Remember Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner? Doesn’t his tragedy lie in being alienated from human community for an unforgivable sin? And doesn’t he desperately try to get himself reintegrated to the community by performing the act of penance through sharing his story with the wedding guest? That’s what everyone does. A criminal was often sent on exile or outlawed. The most heinous punishment one can think of! More terrifying, perhaps, than death! Remember Joseph Conrad’s Lord Jim? We needn’t go that far! Consider Ramayana: Sita’s exile to the forest is perhaps the most severe punishment a husband has ever meted out to his wife. The punishment of being alone! Yet, isn’t it more depressing, even tragic, to realise one fine day that you are really alone in spite of company? Like Sita, who supposedly had the most adorable husband in the world (and therefore, she was conventionally, not lonely), we all come to realise some day or the other that we are really really lonely. No loyal friends, no doting lover, no loving relatives, no sympathetic colleagues, no caring spouse can ever embalm that pain, even if they are lying on the same bed with you or are just a phone call away.

Yet, we look for company! Recall those splendidly poetical line: Is ajnabi se seher me jana-pehchana dhunndta hai... (In this strange city, the lonesome soul keeps looknig for an acquaintance) It's so sadly true for all of us! We all need to talk. The moment we start talking, we barely realise, that the medium of conversation, that is language, is a construction, which more often than not fails to communicate the right kind of feelings or emotions, or has a very different or no impact on the listener, for its import is mostly lost on him. Hold on! Tell me, who would actually lend an ear to you? It’s easier to convert coal into diamond than to find a sympathetic listener. We do feel a heavy abhiman (No English synonym can actually bring out the implication of this very beautiful Sanskrit word) unbearably shrouding our hearts…for, friends appear selfish, spouses seem nonchalant, children too busy to pay attention, colleagues too competitive to feel for you…but, we are helpless. We are like Shelley’s Moon whose eyes are perpetually joyless, for she has not yet found a worthy companion who would love her forever. But don’t we feel secured at times by starting off a family? And initially it appears to us that we have found that worthy companion in our spouses? I mean, that’s what people generally do! But such illusion of security is short-lived…however, pitifully permanent for those who unwittingly turn such a relationship into a habit, and refuse to admit that they’ve actually become lonely all over again. May be such delusion saves one from facing a harsh reality head-on. But is that desirable? We continue to play this game until life teaches us the hard way that there is no other way to be than to be alone on the day we leave this world. So, my point is let’s not bewail being lonely…for, that is the norm. And let’s not be afraid…for, we can be gracefully lonely. For, hasn’t the veteran poet said, Jodi tor daak shune keu na ashe, tobey ekla cholo re (If no one answers your call, carry on with the journey, alone)?