What did I do to deserve this?
There are times when something happens in this world and the level of happiness comes down drastically — like wars or an devastating earthquake. In our lives sometimes we are also shattered by such events and the world becomes a sadder place.
This piece is about the event in life when you used to listen to music, but now you truly understand it. It’s the event that made you cry and breakdown after hearing a song on the radio, even after months of processing the grief.
This is the one that led you to think about everything, question life’s meaning, and reflect on the people and things around you. You asked yourself, “What did I do to deserve this?”
We process grief by holding onto the closeness, time, and proximity to the person. I had a similar experience, and even after more than a year, our brain is still brilliant at making predictions and feeling a sense of emptiness because someone’s gone. Neuroscience says it’s equivalent to having a broken leg. While I’ve worked on myself, it still feels like something’s missing and not okay.
But on the brighter side, this experience made me write and make sense of things. It also deepened my connection with myself, helping me discover my likes and dislikes, and gave a clarity.
Sometimes, I feel that ghosting is a good thing because the closure and pain are something I can never forget. Neuroscience suggests that telling the story of the pain and experiencing it over and over can help deal with the emotions. I’ve done this with several people, and while I don’t have an answer to when the pain will go away, if someone can help it disappear in the next 24 hours, I’d be happy to trade something significant I own for that.
The pain will stay I guess because, out of the more than 8 billion people in the world, there was someone with whom I used to share everything, and now I can never speak to them again. This has made me afraid of going close to other people and talking my heart out. However, I’ve managed to create a net positive out of the situation. Sometimes, I question if I’m doing everything in my life for a reason, and if there’s an “happily ever after” ending to my story.
Perhaps we live with people even when they’re gone, and I guess the pain and this piece is the proof that they’re still alive.
Do they think about me as promised during the last time we spoke I wonder sometimes but all I have is songs and poetry that give me the answer — yes, maybe and no.
Maana zamana hai deewana
Isiliye tune na jaana
Tere liye main kaafi hoon
…
Haan, ek din kabhi koi
Jab bhi padhe kahani teri
Lagta mujhe, mere naam ka
Zikr kahi bhi hoga nahi
…
Kaisa naseeb hai mera
Milke bhi na mujhe mila
– Husn, Anuv Jain
You normally have to be bashed about a bit by life to see the point of daffodils, sunsets and uneventful nice days.
– Alain de Botton
Proust on pain and how it leads to wisdom:
There is no man, however wise, who has not at some period of his youth said things, or even lived in a way which was so unpleasant to him in later life that he would gladly, if he could, expunge it from his memory. But he shouldn’t regret this entirely, because he cannot be certain that he has indeed become a wise man — so far as any of us can be wise — unless he has passed through all the fatuous or unwholesome incarnations by which that ultimate stage must be reached. I know there are young people whose teachers have instilled in them a nobility of mind and moral refinement from the very beginning of their schooldays. They perhaps have nothing to retract when they look back upon their lives; they can, if they choose, publish a signed account of everything they have ever said or done; but they are poor creatures, feeble descendants of doctrinaires, and their wisdom is negative and sterile. We cannot be taught wisdom, we have to discover it for ourselves by a journey which no one can undertake for us, an effort which no one can spare us.
The only thing that helps deal with this is to know that you’re not alone and almost everybody at once had the same painful story.
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