Very few of us are accustomed to living a lone life. We have had someone/somebody to be with from the day we were born. That is why everyone looks for companionship, even if some fear commitments. It need not always be a partner; it could be a child for a single parent, a caretaker for an orphan, or a pet for an elderly person. The dynamics of the relationship vary for each individual, but it is always some person we look forward to spending our lives with. But what happens when they are no more? It takes away the will to survive and fight your battles alone. The guilt of you being able to breathe while the other person is taken away starts pounding the questions of “why me?” Survivors’ guilt is a typical response to the grieving process. 

What exactly is survivor’s guilt? Survivor’s guilt is the feeling of inadequateness and guilt experienced after a loss in a traumatic situation. The situation could be a natural disaster, an accident, a medical complication, or any situation that caused the death of a loved one. As a result, the survivor starts feeling unworthy of living and continuing with their life. 

As a survivor after my father’s demise, I did not have survivor guilt because I am starting my own family. Yes, I feel guilty about everything I could have done for my father when he was sick. However, my mother, at some point, could be feeling the guilt of carrying on with her life, which was earlier and for years moulded to suit the comforts of her husband. 

You are bound to feel lost if you have lost both your parents, or your partner met an untimely death. To be frustrated at that loss reflects in your life. You stop believing in the miracles of God, you don’t eat the same portions of food, and you don’t feel like doing anything. It all feels meaningless because now, who are you supposed to do things for? Who do you come back home to? Whom do you hug when you feel low? Who do you goof around with? The simple and complicated questions pile on…

You feel tired, physically and emotionally drained. Your mind is desperate to get away from this all. You feel the loss in your body and soul. But who will understand it, like your loved one, which is no more? Yes, some squeeze your shoulder and say they’re here for you, but they are not the shoulder you want to lean on forever. So you start feeling lonely, even when others surround you. This is because the innate connection we develop with our parents, siblings, or partner goes so deep that it is irreplaceable. You have shaped your life through them, and the loss, whether expected or sudden, leaves you in the wind. 

The guilt starts shaping up, and for some reason, we always believe that when we die, we will meet them up in heaven or down the hell hole. How are we humans conditioned to imagine forever and ever, even after death separates us? So we seep in guilt until we are hopeful to meet them again. The combination of loss with regret is overwhelming. 

Compared to the lone survivors, I haven’t experienced a loss so grave. But what I have learned with my family is how we remember the dead. It gives a different perspective on how we get back to normal. Feeling guilty is not the problem. It is common. But we are not ready to acknowledge our feelings, making them difficult to process. 

It is obvious to miss the departed person in your highs and lows. But why don’t we look at how they’d have been proud or comforted us had they been with us? Whatever little life we have left, why don’t we dedicate it to our happy moments together? Healing is not only about crying when you feel low but also about learning to hold back your tears and remember the happy smiles instead. 

Suppose you can do it once, twice, and repeatedly. You are no more guilty about surviving. You will gradually be responsible for your survivor strength. Your role in society is now altered to fill in the gap of the person who has left. It would help if you filled in this void, not for the community, but for yourself – to hold yourself back up. I know you can. 

The first step is channeling a survivor’s ‘guilt’ into the survivor’s ‘strength,’ and the rest should follow. Your parents/spouse trusts you; only you can care for yourself. And for them, you should. Death has not done us apart, and it has made you stronger. 

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Writer by day, an overthinker by night. I let my thoughts flow through my writing. As a definite misfit, I let my words speak louder than my actions. Welcome to my journey of sailing through emotions and experiences, with words as my paddles.

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When you want to get away from everything transpiring in your immediate surroundings, the best getaway is getting lost in your phone. Scrolling reels at low volume can mute the chaos of conversations around. That is what I was doing when I received a notification about a message from my father. It read, “Hi,” and about 10 seconds later, attached came a photo. Reading it from the notification bar made me so happy that I almost forgot that he was no longer in this world.

I felt like calling the number right away and asking him where has he been and when is he returning. But as soon as I opened the photo, the excitement was crushed. It was the insurance claim document that I was supposed to mail for the other formalities in order. My mother found it convenient to forward it to me from my dad’s phone. And here I was, not realizing that the conversation with this number had ended. I wonder what my mother was thinking when she typed hi !

Within that 10-second gap between the first and second messages, my trail of thoughts had begun. I had prepared a list of questions to ask my father, even formulating his casual responses to my intervention. An intervention that was never going to happen. All it took was 10 seconds, but the conversation in my head seemed ten detailed minutes long. When you lose someone, you think of many things you could have said to them to comfort them or yourself more.

This message opened so many possibilities to a question I posed myself, “What if I could have one phone call with him?” On other days, I am not very vocal on phone calls, but knowing that this would be the last one, I would want it to go on much longer. This call would go on to blabber things I could never say and seek forgiveness for things I should’ve never said.

Experiencing a loss gives you a perspective on the world and a lot about yourself. Especially if you have never experienced a heavy loss before, it is a ride through a tumult of emotions. These are not just sad and miserable feelings but even bouts of anger on how things could have been different. Of how you could do nothing to save them, although you may have tried everything possible. Could you have should have tried harder?

The two years of the pandemic have seen a grief wave. For those who lost someone to COVID-19, I feel you too. The anger and pain you feel are a lot deeper. Because you probably did not even get the chance to say the last goodbye, feel the touch, or see them one last time. All of this was for the greater good of keeping you and others around you safe. The pinching feeling of not being able to conduct the last rites on them may sometimes keep you wide awake at night. It can get traumatic. It is a situation that hasn’t got a closure. You need to be truly appreciated for how far you have come. If you are reading this far, find this a comforting hug from someone who does not precisely understand what you feel but knows what loss is.

The loss slowly seeps within as you start getting back into a routine. Several people are asking you to distract yourself, get busy, etc. Although they all mean well, give yourself time to be upset. Pent-up emotions barely do any good. Unresolved grief can bring on more grave mental health problems. So wallow, but don’t swallow your feelings, especially the negative ones.

It took one message from my late father’s number to put me in a state of denial. After that, I started to reject the reality of his demise. I held conversations with him that I could never have. I sometimes, to date, think about what, if any, miracle still gives me a chance to communicate with him. What will I say to him, or will I say nothing? I live in these what-ifs, which I can write another essay on.

But to complete this one, I’d frame a reply to that “Hi,” which got me to write this. My response was, “I hope it was painless. Know that we are safe here, and until we meet again, I will meet you in my memories, and together we will live along!”

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Writer by day, an overthinker by night. I let my thoughts flow through my writing. As a definite misfit, I let my words speak louder than my actions. Welcome to my journey of sailing through emotions and experiences, with words as my paddles.

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Point Of View

This is a point of view. But, unfortunately, the compulsive use of POV on every video I scroll through today has got to me. Is your point of view so basic to fit within five words to seven seconds on a regular video clip with completely unrelated music? Where are your honest thoughts, the thoughts that make you, those that unrest you, and those that completely daze you? 

We are mired in the circle of social media validation, and only some of us have managed to set boundaries. You wake up, and instead of detangling some tresses or rubbing your face, you reach for the phone. You unlock it, squint your eyes to scroll all app notifications, and lock it back. What value this adds to your morning routine needs to be clarified. But it is the creeping fear of missing out. The internet further validated this feeling by abbreviating it to FOMO. And since then, there’s no looking back. 

You have your tea/coffee, and if the window shows an exceptionally bright day, you must capture it. Now, you place the cup at an angle that gets the sun’s rays and wait for the hot steam to arise to click the perfect ‘Tis a Good Morning’ photo. Before posting it online, do you contemplate whether you should use a filter on it or whether you should post it all? 

Facebook, Snapchat, Twitter, and Instagram, are common social media apps that are not addictive as platforms. But the validation we seek from posting everything on these mediums seeps in like a drug, affecting serotonin levels on a likes-to-comments basis. It has got us to share a considerable part of our daily lives online, only waiting for someone to look up to it, like it, comment on it positively, and essentially inflate our egos. 

Think about this… When you are on vacation, be it with family, friends, or solo, do you want to capture memories or make them? The unfiltered things we say in conversations, the exuberant laughter when surrounded by our close ones, and the inner jokes we share can’t come to the fore when you have a camera rolling, just waiting for this candidness to be captured. Won’t you agree that you need to put your phone in a pocket, rub your palms, and feel the warmth of a bonfire rather than take a slo-mo video of the flames? These most straightforward actions want us to keep our phones away and the cameras black-taped. No, you won’t miss out on the good times if you live in them. You’d only miss them if you are enjoying them in pretense to show them to other random strangers.

We need to stop mini-vlogging our lives for full validation. If you desire the expression, try talking about ‘how today made you feel?’ And no, it does not have to be happy all the time. Please give me a true Point of View of your learnings and help others through it because we all have days when we feel like packing our bags and leaving for a destination untold. 

I observe a lot of creators and their imitators online. While it is the sustenance of a creator to post what they do online, it is a sign of loneliness for the other lot. Is this generation relying on online friendships and their likes to define their own? I believe it is unconscious too. 

When Instagram removed the likes count last year, their chief Adam Mosseri said, “The idea is to try and depressurize Instagram, make it less of a competition, give people more space to focus on connecting with people they love, things that inspire them. But it’s focused on young people.” This move got polarizing reactions, but it also gave us insight. Yes, the young ones succumb to this fear of missing out, not being liked/commented on, not looking pretty enough, and eventually being insufficient. So now you can hide your likes and metrics. But can you hide the innate sense to be relevant for the ‘gram? 

It also creeps from the loneliness that technology leaves us. We are more connected to the outside world than the ones we live and mingle with. Of course, a rejection or a mean comment from a best friend will hurt! Here’s a random stranger showering hearts and making up for it. 

Thankfully, we have some who show the right side of creating content for Instagram. The ‘Instagram vs. Reality’ video trend is something that people enjoy as fun. But look beyond my viewers – Observe how everyone is faking a view and cooperating in queuing to avoid being seen in picturesque frames. Are you doing the same with your life? Are you too conforming to the fear of being unseen if you don’t show people what they like to double tap on? 

It is human to fear failure, abandonment, uncertainty, judgment, and death. But the fear of missing out is something that we need to get past. Don’t you realise how this fear makes us be a part of it, and we end up missing out on the true joys of living in the moment anyway? 

Go ahead, click pictures, capture videos, make edits, travel, sing, dance, and do what gives you joy. But do it for your validation. Create something that stays valid even after the internet goes off. 

On a call with my friend this week, she told me the family got a new car after I said, ‘Woah, woot woot! And Congratulations.’ She kept it a secret from everyone.
Why!!! To create a reel to reveal it. Ok then! So there’s another ‘POV: You got a new car’ reel coming on my feed in a few days. 

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Writer by day, an overthinker by night. I let my thoughts flow through my writing. As a definite misfit, I let my words speak louder than my actions. Welcome to my journey of sailing through emotions and experiences, with words as my paddles.

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It’s a regular morning. Coffee, in one hand, scrolling through social media with the other! Unfortunately, looking at nothing specific. But, guilty as charged, some bad habits sometimes keep us thriving, don’t they? This mindless scrolling brings me to a video I’ve already started to watch but skipped the second time. Though this time, I did not. It’s of the bride from Hyderabad, India, who was surprised by her brother with a life-like wax statue of her late father. 

My eyes stained with tears, and the fresh dawn suddenly feels blurry. The hot coffee seems cold. My thoughts jumble, and a relatable grief episode come to the fore. I feel blessed that at least my father got to witness my wedding. One undeniable fact about grief is it doesn’t necessarily come with a trigger. It’s like an uninvited guest who now you have to tend to and eventually drive away with a smile.

A year and a half since I lost my father, parts of me still haven’t recovered. It wasn’t sudden, accidental, or unexpected. The doctors had called the stage of counting on a miracle. But miracles aren’t supposed to happen daily, and we had seen our share of them in his case. There is a stage in the life of people grappling with prolonged illnesses which starts preparing them and others around them for their demise until they cross that bridge. The stark realizing the void left behind pricks you even on the brightest days.

The paradox of death is – it is inevitable and yet uncertain. I often call death a prerequisite of life. You breathe today, and life takes your breath out one day. So I am not lacking words when I say that we call the talk of death unfortunate in itself is unfortunate. 

It does not give us a chance to insulate our emotions to the onset of grief, let alone live with it for years to come. We encounter our bouts with happiness, pride, sorrow, and anger, but it has to take away a loved one to know what anguish and distress are. I have had my share of heartbreaks too, but comparing it with the heartache of a loss of a loved one is dismissing the sentimental value of both occurrences.

My father’s death is becoming a significant turning point for me to face and understand my emotions.

I often put on a mask of happiness and recovery in front of others, and I genuinely uncover my grief when I sit alone and let myself the time to process it. The truth is, the world moves on, the relatives and families stop calling, and the daunting questions of ‘what next’ keep coming my way. And you cannot possibly fathom ‘what’s next’ just sitting in a room with all the people. All one wants to do is ask them all to leave you undisturbed.

A person you have lost will find a place in your thoughts because they now occupy a bigger space in your heart. The memories you share with them will bring you grief on some days and peace on others. To recognize what brings which feeling is where the deep struggle of moving on lies. And no reassuring words can heal at this point because the close association with the lost person brings you the ownership of that emotion, that connection, and that void.

The loss of a parent, a loved one, a close relative, a favourite grandparent, or a best friend is all meant to induce a certain kind of pain that only makes us more human. It is not a thoughtless

premise when you see several movie plots where death brings out the transformation of the lead character. From my experience, the permanency of ‘never’ seeing them again transgresses our thoughts. One moment they are here, now all you have are the moments you shared. Memories…

Since every dark tunnel always opens to a bright side, you will begin seeing the light too. It can be blinding at first. You don’t know how to react when you meet someone next. Can you smile, are you supposed to be sad? Will it be, “Oh look, she’s already moved on!” or “She seems to be trying to get there?” Will I be known as “The girl who lost her father” or “Her father would have been proud of her today?” Getting to the latter is a longer road because society’s conditioning is majorly towards simply sympathising, more pitying, to be specific. Every day you will feel like crying. Cry out; you should. Yes, you may. You should. But when you wipe away that last tear and straighten yourself back up, you’ve accomplished a step toward growth. Grieving is growing, sometimes one cry session at a time.

Writer by day, an overthinker by night. I let my thoughts flow through my writing. As a definite misfit, I let my words speak louder than my actions. Welcome to my journey of sailing through emotions and experiences, with words as my paddles.

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