"All the Lonely people"

18^th December, 2014.

This is perhaps for those who are somewhat lonely people. Its almost 8 in my clock, and right now, I am in my rooms, quite comfortable and cozy, in perfect condition to write this rant up. I know it means nothing, to anybody, but I think writing this up will help. Help who? I do not have the faintest idea. But I cannot stop myself, and here I am, to rant and blabber. The days are strange anyway, so I guess…

I boarded the metro from the university, after a long day, and my destination or what I believed was to be Malviya nagar metro. Meeting with her highness (shubhangi, I met her at the archives, the uber cool girl I mentioned in some post I believe) was due, and plus, I needed some material for the preparation for the exams. She agreed to help me out sorting things up, which was not too much. So we met. After a few smokes and endless debates and discussion, I took her leave around 5.30, and left for home. The metro at university is basically empty around that time, so there was no effort to find a seat. Plugging the earphones in, and against my powers, I dozed off. I don’t remember what song was playing first. I wake up from my doze turn sleep only to discover that I am at qutub station. Two stations further than my actual destination.

Evenings in December are chilly. A cold gust of wind welcomes me at the deserted station. A very few person de boarded with me, and were obviously heading towards their homes after herculean day. I on the other hand was the stranger here, quite lost. The song playing in my music list was ‘all the lonely people’ by the Beatles. Quite amusingly, the song was clear to me, the lyrics somewhat were the questions of my own consciousness, or rather my bedazzled soul. “All the lonely people, where do they come from. All the lonely people, where do they all belong!” where do I belong now? The question that I should’ve asked to myself was “what the hell am I doing here?” but the song was overpowering in many levels. I don’t even remember what the levels were. I was just lost in thoughts, pondering over the turn of events that occurred rather haphazardly recently.

I didn’t wanted to, but somehow, certain things are unavoidable under certain circumstances. The evening mist was slowly enveloping the area; the qutub minar was standing in the mist lost in its own history, pondering over the reason of its existence. The vegetation below was turning into a dark, mysterious forest, and the violet sky was borrowing light from the orange street lights.

I have observed those who are basically going through a certain period of bewilderment and loneliness always acts on impulse, rather than logic. Since I was at a wrong place at a wrong time, the logical thing to be done was to just change the platform, get another train and head home. Instead, I tightened my muffler, the sole companion of my winters, comfortably around my neck, and against my better judgment, came out of the station on the road… “Where do they all belong?”… I decide to walk. Downright stupid decision, but I was in no mood to judge myself over such trivial issues. I admit I am very inept regarding the routes, I turned my gps on my phone; mehrauli was just 30 minutes of walk. So, walking it was! “Where do they come from?” I don’t know, where do these people belong, and where do they come from, Paul McCartney has been asking this question for almost decades, and the answer is still in the dark. I kept walking, the cold was totally against my fashion faux pas I made today, but it wasn’t the cold that bothered me, it was the events, and the things which happened. I kept the song on loop; I guess I wasn’t paying attention to the song anymore, I just wanted to walk. Walk until something happens. Anything! The cars, the horns, the people, the barking dogs, the luminous orange lights and some shady characters underneath, smoking and leering weren’t my issues anymore. They were just some figures in the winter mist. Occasionally I glanced on my mobile, as I said, inept with routes I am, and maybe a hope, that maybe now, there would be a message, or a call. People often confuse over being alone and being lonely. Sometimes, it is the same thing. Sometimes, you’ll find yourself in the middle of a huge crowd, and not one face will be of your acquaintance. Walking hasn’t been a problem to me, so it wasn’t much difficult. What proved otherwise, was to keep up with the train of thoughts, I couldn’t. All I was able to do was to remember, I will know if there is return. If a comeback is done. … “Where do they come from?”… After 35 minutes or so, I reached the bus terminus of mehrauli, it was crowded and loud, and I was both deaf and nonexistent. My legs were rebelling against the unnecessary ordeal. Bhulbhulayia (a monument on the opposite) stood old and proud, the witness to a history of centuries, and perhaps a witness to my question too. I looked up, but there was no answer. The phone never rang.

Maybe the lonely people belong nowhere. Maybe I can just hope... After all...

I board on a bus, grab a seat with a window wide open, I let the wind thrash my face for my stupidity, there was no need for this. I change the song. Heh… irony of life, another song by the Beatles “let it be”. Singer- Paul McCartney. The bus leaves for my home.

Regards.