No More Goodbyes

I am never again doing a goodbye.

I am tired of goodbyes.

I think I have had my very unfair share of goodbyes for someone only hitting their late thirties …

I think I am numb now. You know… like how your leg feels, or doesn’t feel when you get up after sitting cross legged for a long time?

My head feels or doesn’t feel like how that leg doesn’t feel till the blood rushes back in.

Sorry, I forget. The head isn’t supposed to feel.

How the heart feels. I mean doesn’t feel.

I think I have loved and lost and lived more than many others who began the same as me.

You see, I have experienced not only the worldly goodbyes but the eternal ones too. A parent, a friend, a classmate, a friend’s parent, a child I knew.

Too many…to keep count.

The ones that cannot end with “till we meet again” – unless of course you believe in the afterlife. Which I don’t. I don’t believe in the afterlife. Those goodbyes that last till the very end, when the body goes into a metal furnace and gets handed to you in an urn. While you wait, wondering what it is that you’re supposed to be feeling. Relief that the pain is over? Grief that they’re gone? Shock that it happened? Anger that it happened to them, to you? Or just fatigue…because of everything.

And then you end up feeling just empty. Like the hole of the vortex.

Empty and Numb.

I have also experienced sadly, the goodbyes where the only person feeling the loss was me. The bad breakups with those beautiful boyfriends.

Because I had dared to love without any scruples. No holds barred. Like the hero and heroines are made to love in those infamous rom coms. Those goodbyes have hurt. They’ve hurt till the tears refused to come out anymore because they stopped being formed. Hurt because the anger over being left, being rejected needed a more domesticated, social form. Hurt because they say such events fire the same part of the brain that gets fired when you’re slapped or gut punched. Stupid brain. Can’t feel anything but messes up the heart so bad.

Hurt till the hurt caves in and makes you numb.

Empty and Numb.

Then there are those absolutely empty, meaningless and mundane goodbyes. The office goodbyes. The extended family goodbyes. The goodbyes that were unnecessary.

Because there was nothing that was ending. They’re important…is what I was told, socially, culturally, professionally. So I’d have them. I’d laugh and joke and be polite and say a few empty words. Make a few empty promises. So many and many and many people that I have no use for, no emotional connect, no stories with.

But I guess those too needed to be done. Who knows why? Empty hearts in empty rooms around empty tables kind of goodbyes.

Nope, not doing those. Not anymore.

Empty and Numb.

And there have been those wistful, fun, happy goodbyes. Validating. Loving. Worth cherishing. Friends made, friends that remained, friends that cared, friends that co-created stories that lived. Friends that still are..just not round the corner.

You see, I’ve moved a lot in life. Turbulence…inner turbulence ..makes you do that. Jump from place to place…in search of a purpose. And I’ve met lovely people everywhere, nasty ones too, but more of the lovely ones. And with them, I’ve had goodbye lunches, dinners, coffees, walks, drinks. Shared memories. Shared secrets. Shared inconvenient admissions. To leave. And meet another time. In passing, on a trip, in a wedding or a funeral.

Not empty. But I guess I have had way too many of those also now. And they take their toll. They make you wonder if you’ll ever find your tribe that will stick around and be around when you’re old and unable to get out of bed. If you’ll ever have “your people”. That question is depressing. Existential.

And so I don’t think I have the stamina for these fun goodbyes any more too. So I’m not having them. But they’re not numbing. Atleast not yet.

Then there have been goodbyes to spaces, objects, stuff. Hostel rooms, PGs, Flats, Rentals. Scooters, cycles, book shelves, recliners, coffee tables, dining tables, curtains, frames, shoe boxes.

Objects and spaces that became teleporters in time. Portkeys, magic carpets.

Objects and spaces that needed to be left, because they carried weight.

Yes, once upon a time, I’d spend tears and words on bidding them adieu.

So now, I don’t attach myself to them anymore. Cause those goodbyes hurt too.

Make you feel Empty… Weightless.

And the ones that I do remember, with a lot of fondness that will never again happen, are the classroom goodbyes. The famous farewells. School farewells, college farewells, hostel farewells. Collective nostalgia of years spent together, growing up. Shaping up. Those have been etched in memory as scenes that one refreshes everytime an old acquaintance or friend crosses a LinkedIn feed or an Insta feed or a Whatsapp update. Innocent, loving things those farewells were. Not at all empty. Not sad either. Wishful. Hopeful. Because they weren’t endings. They were just stepping stones. And yes…we lose people there too.

But the ones that remain…transcend time and space. So I’d call them memories. Sadly those won’t happen again. No more classrooms. No more collective learning spaces.

For them …I just might have had some energy left. T-shirt signing, sari wearing, party games, pictures, singing friend themed songs out of key, sharing anecdotes. Yes…I just might.

But for now..

I am never again doing a goodbye.

I am tired of goodbyes.

I think I have had my very unfair share of goodbyes for someone only hitting their late thirties ..

Except the final one. Even that one. I wish. I hope.

Is an abrupt ending. No time for a goodbye…would be the best goodbye, then.

*written as part of Write Club Bangalore’s session on Writing Goodbyes.