I'm chasing happiness in moments that I know I can never live again.
There used to be a small Dhaba near my place. Growing up, my parents would take my sister and I nearly every Tuesday for years . We'd order the same South Indian lunch and the owner along with his staff would feed us lovingly. I must have been 13-15 when we did this, and we carried this tradition out until the restaurant shut. I remember trying the alternative, another Dhaba in the same complex that never hit the same way. It wasn't the food (though I still dream of the lime pickle they served with their parottas) but it was a sense of feeling safe. Like, nothing could ever change or go wrong and everything would be the same.
I believe my mum chased this similar feeling about her going to school. I've always found it odd to hear her say how she loved her school and everything about it. My mum's had a difficult adult life, in hindsight it does make sense when I put things in perspective. Perhaps school is where she felt safe and that nothing could ever go wrong. Even if it did, it was under control.
The eating out ritual for me was the closest thing I experienced to love and spirituality as a shared familial bond. I don't think I trust temples or places of worship as much as I do with restaurants and food joints. It means we are going to forge a new layer of love and trust with each other over things I love. My mum always tells me that food is more important to me than it is to her, perhaps it's because it gives me a reason to wake up every day and fill my heart with hope that my soul might be nourished with an emotional bond in there, somewhere.
Earlier today, I passed several school buses with school children dressed in their uniforms. Definitely seemed like they were headed for some event (private bus, at an odd hour). I don't think I've focused on a school bus since trying to track my erstwhile crush in his school bus since I was 15 but I did observe the faces today—overjoyed, carefree and in oblivion. I can't say they'd feel the same but I can speculate that the distraction of a field day out of school could beat everything.
I remember looking forward to school picnics, a day we could be ourselves and find joy in connecting with people we called our own. The closest I've come to re-living that feeling is when I'm out with friends I love, cherish and trust. I spent the day with an old school friend (who's featured in these now archived posts from '07) and later with girls from college. I trust these people with my life, they've been there for me when I was thrown out of a house in a different city (long story) and when I was dumped on a WhatsApp text in class (long story).
Today, while I lived through the sinking feeling that my relationship is past its expiration date I felt a sense of life breathing into me with the girls through the day. It was nothing out of the ordinary; a catch up over Boba, another round of drinks with a different group at a rooftop bar and later, an unexpected text from an old school friend inviting me to her wedding and pre-wedding function ("I want you to network cause why not"). I felt grateful for everyone who made me feel safe and secure during a tough, unexpected period.
I don't know why but that lunch hang with my parents keeps coming back to me. Maybe, that's the last time I felt like everything will be okay and that there's going to be people I love and trust around me. In the last 48 hours I found my safe space disappearing and since then I'm holding on to every interaction with a sense of gratitude. On the plus side, I'm looking out for myself, something I'd lost the sight to see but god, I'm going to chase this sense of love lost when I'm past the grief for losing it.
I'll fondly remember the shared dictionary of love and camaraderie we built over time. I'll remember getting called out for being cold and I'll miss the cold hearts we exchanged as we got to know each other. I'll probably miss it all.