LONELINESS STRIKES Walking through the streets of Buckingham town in winter or autumn, a thousand miles away from home, sometimes bereft the presence of pedestrians on the street is “fish out of the water”. Especially when the few you met are hurriedly walking to the bars and cafes or headed home for a cup of hot coffee, very much avoiding the chilling weather. When greetings and familiar faces are shunned by freezing temperature, and when simple gestures like a smile and a faint hello dissipated in the cold, loneliness strikes. The mood swing is evident when summer visits. The streets swarmed, the noise deafening and that bubbly atmosphere displaced loneliness into isolation. Unlike talking to the pristine Mission Hill or the immaculate Black Mountain, where golfing enthusiasts congregate under the glaring sun, basking in endless heavenly moments, short of perpetual happiness, nothing about the loneliness of winter and autumn in Buckingham remained in my memory. Overwhelmed by the many splendid and beautiful moments of Mission Hill and Black Mountain or even Phuket or the unrelentingly busy Bali, the sombre memories of winter and autumn in Buckingham is easily forgettable. The numbness, emptiness and the calling of home sometimes defeat the very purpose you are there. Indulging in Kenny G’s Songbird or Gary Moore’s Parisienne Walkways during that wicked moment doesn’t help and would certainly send your determination and courage etched on a tombstone. Loneliness is and never was our best friend but it will always be there for everybody. Terrifying?....Yes. When those who have endured a nadir moment thought they could negotiate this dreadful feeling, it will come and haunt you again and again just to make you a bit wiser and stronger but never wise and strong enough to defeat it. Albeit that winter and autumn experience in Buckingham and the strong resilience I displayed to wither my acquiescence for loneliness. I have never quite actually come to terms with that strange emotional feeling. Varying circumstances and situations often dragged me to battle yet another of that taunting moment, and how often I lost and entrapped in the many facets of loneliness. I once thought that loneliness was just some emotional conundrum endured by the young after a separation or a break away. I always thought age makes us more resilient and able to comprehend and accommodate tragedies. It wasn’t, and even worse, age makes recovery slow though at times we are able to hide the wound behind our seemingly brave face. The outcome can never be different no matter how much we willed it. The hurt sometimes evident and to some, tears are the only companion to ease loneliness. Probably the complexities of modern life have distanced but not completely severed myself from loneliness. My once “life in a suitcase” job have constantly moved me around, meeting new acquaintances and allow myself ample rooms and opportunities not to reminisced on the spent time. Time was never my luxury and often preoccupied with many different ventures. Sometimes my decent and countless mischievous indulgences have culminated in many sweet, memorable and not the least bitter memories. When they are no longer there to cherish, reflecting on those moments would pull you down and to some it would knock them hard and imprisoned them in their own world of loneliness. I have somewhat tried to overcome loneliness in my own way but as much as I have tried, I have to resigned to the fact that loneliness is embedded within us waiting for some tragedies or sad moments to trigger it. My journey in life is long and winding. More so when I have to shift work place like the Bedouins often. I was so preoccupied with work that I sometimes forget I have growing children. Time passes by in a haste. When my five children were around there were always that placidity, the laughter, the chaotic like moment the McAllisters went through in the infamous Home Alone and that Waltons like family bonding translated in that eminent chorus of, “good night John Boy”, “good night grandpa” or simply savoring breakfast, lunch and dinner together on a weekend. Home was never that quiet place. Home is where I seek solace from my five children. Home is where I have the luxury of a free massages, coffee served at my wish. Home is where you worry not who disposes the garbage, who cleans the house, washes the cars, who goes with me for groceries. Home is where I have assistants. Home is where I have genuine friends in my children. Well at least thats how the picture was painted when i and my other siblings were under the wings of my late father. Home was once everything to me and home is not just home until four of the five children left their nest with fully flexed wings chasing their dreams. Sometimes it’s such a therapy to hold and hug your children in your sleep. They are like that potent sleeping pill that puts you deep into your sleep. I had that privilege many years ago until my children grew. It has been over a year since I have all five children together at home. Yesterday I drove to the airport to fetch my daughter an aspiring doctor who is on a one month study leave. Her elder sister, a would be veterinarian couldn’t make the journey home assumingly busy with her course work approaching her final year. My son has not been able to make his weekly journey home entering his first year software engineering course at City University. My eldest son is taking up the challenges of being independent and renting on his own in the city. I am practically left with my other half ( the love of my life ) and Natasha my youngest, who has been the cure for my loneliness in the absence of her four other siblings. It feels frustrating to see four empty rooms everytime you come home from work never mind the holidays This sometimes painful moment made winter and autumn in Buckingham revisited. I can understand now why my father would sit outside the house after coming home from work or probably at any time he felt lonely, staring deeply into the horizon probably reflecting on those days when all his children were around him. For so many years until his passing, he never had that opportunity to see his children flocking back together to the very nest they first started to learn to fly. I guess it was heart wrenching for him as much as it is for me now I don’t exactly know whether i, my wife and my five children will have that precious opportunity to be reconciled over breakfast, lunch or dinner like those days. Very soon they will have families of their own and the thought of having to be like my father, staring deep into the horizon is dreadful but inevitably forthcoming. Until such time, the ghost of winter and autumn in Buckingham will come back to haunt me. Happiness is never an easy path and neither is misery. In every steps of your journey loneliness strikes.
Posted on: Mon, 10 Nov 2014 03:38:52 +0000
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