CHENNAI: She clicked the door open, switched on the lights of her one-bedroom apartment and sank on her cane chair for a while. She then stretched on her way up from the chair and whipped up some dinner. Carrying her one-pot meal on a bowl, she reached for the remote and ate her grub with Netflix for company. She does this day after day after day. He clicked the door open, flung his keys into the square wicker box at the entrance and headed straight to the kitchen to put together a meal. He armed himself with the plate, his remote and ate his dinner with Amazon Prime for company.
He does this day after day after day. They live in different continents, have diametrically different jobs, but have one thing in common: They are alone. This is not the beginning of a love story. This is a just a representation of many such ‘shes’ and ‘hes’ who come back to an empty house. They are alone in a crowded city, the deafening noise of traffic outside in tandem with the lonely voices of their heart. “I would die to be in your shoes,” her friends have often told her. “What a life! No responsibilities, no errands for family, no thinking about breakfast, lunch or dinner.
No one to be answerable to. No one to question your movements. This is your house, every nook your own, none to share with. This is truly liberating. What an adventure your life is! Must be so exciting and fulfilling to live life on your terms!” “What a life,” his friends too would say. “This is a freedom we all want but do not get. We are tied to families and are unable to do what we want to.” All similar voices, identical tones, and every word richly coated with envy.
But these are words from friends who have a life with family, with whom they share the roof, a meal, and the couch to watch Netflix. But they hanker after a life of being alone, of living life that they feel is truly liberating. Of course, they may also be inspired to “discover” themselves after watching those genre of films where the protagonist “finds” himself or herself after moving out of the mundane. But what about the “hes and shes” I have spoken about? Is there any moving out of themselves? Most of this self-liberating spiel comes from those who have a back-up family option.
Their annual solo trips “to be with myself” is an easy temporary escape for them. An escape they make, only to return, rejuvenated. This “liberating” notion is often romanticised beyond reason. I am not saying one needs a partner to fill the vacuum. But it is unnerving to see people with families saying how they would love to be on their own without the trappings of a family. The lockdown has brought families together, created distances among them, but has also led to physical distancing among people who are unable to get back. But there is hope for a reunion once this abates.
The lockdown has also got the creative juices overflowing with memes and jokes about ‘stuckat- home’ spouses and has led to frustrating skirmishes and slanging matches. But at least there is an opponent to have a match with, an enemy to fight with. So all those who preach about the path to liberation by being on their own may want to think twice that it is easy to say because there is a back-up option. We want to be alone by choice, but loneliness is not a choice we make.