GOODBYES

Goodbyes are painful. Have never liked them. Over a period of time realized that different people have different ways of dealing with them. Some like to build a wall around themselves right before you’re about to leave – as if steeling themselves. Some like my wife cry – maybe it helps them lessen the grief of parting. Some like my brother are simply indifferent – its just an opportunity to give space (maybe enjoy some too) and get back rejuvenated. For me they’re slightly different – having understood the inevitability of them – I then start thinking why we met in the first place & when we’d meet again. But this write up is not about the types of goodbyes or which ones are better. This is about the goodbyes that shaped my life.

There was this one where I left home. I had faught with my mom. Penniless, I came back a few days later. The goodbye showed me my place in life – how much I mattered to those who mattered to me – what love or the lack of it was. It helped me loose expectations, surrender myself to fate or the inevitability of it & left me directionless in life. Have written about it in one of my posts.

Then there was one which never was. She just disappeared. In an era where letters were the only means of communication there wasn’t much one could do if someone would stop responding. I initially kept writing, hoping I’d get a reply. It never came. This one taught me that one could be a disposable commodity for someone, that the world didn’t revolve around me & that love didn’t always have a happy ending.

Another one was forced on me. A meeting that I was desperately looking forward to on a very special occasion was eclipsed by someone who drew a promise to break a heart. Sentimental blackmail! Don’t know how I could do it but between the secret meetings, the discussions on goals in life & stolen kisses, I bid goodbye. And I curse myself for what I did. It taught me that some people have to be shunned – that some people have to be given a no for an answer. It left me with a guilt for life, didn’t know whether to be happy for the occasion or whether to cry for my loss. Cried bitterly in the arms of my brother but could never speak about what had happened – he never asked – perhaps he understood that I would have broken down only if something had happened which was beyond repair. Some part of me was broken, some part stolen, some part went missing for life.

My work also gave me quite a few opportunities for goodbyes. Every time my son would ask when I would return I would think if my profession was worth it. Every time my daughter would cry I’d wonder even more. The long drawn loneliness which followed would often question if this was the life that I wanted.

However the goodbye that I remember the most was when I was perhaps in 5^th grade – 1987/88. I’d gone to meet my uncle in Dimapur. Spent quite a few days with uncle enjoying Nagaland, which at that point of time was a peaceful paradise – shopping baggy jeans (an “in” thing then), buying cassettes of Modern Talking, playing Tambola at parties and what not. And the person who made all this happen was my uncle. As the holiday grew to an end & we were about to leave, I jumped into the waiting army truck – eager to get home. I didn’t even hug or kiss my uncle goodbye – something that I immediately regretted and something that clung onto me for the rest of my life. He passed away a few days later.  I can never forget his face as I waved goodbye – smiling, understanding & happy at my happiness. How I wish I could have said goodbye properly.