Bakuɭ

Years ago, I attended a friend’s birthday lunch. The conversation eventually turned to our post-college plans. I was an arts student. Because of this, everyone assumed I would prepare for the civil services exams. It is a classic stereotype. I mentioned I had not decided yet. But I knew I was definitely not taking that route. A friend laughed at this. He joked that "settling down" was always an option if I lacked real ambition. He equated ambition strictly with competitive exams or climbing a career ladder. I kept quiet. But his comment triggered a lot of overthinking. What exactly bothered me? Was it the assumption that my ambition was small? Was it the casual downplaying of a simple life? Or was it just the realization that I was an oddball? Now we are in our late twenties. The landscape has changed. Most of my friends are married. Some have kids. Others are climbing the corporate ladder. They seem to have achieved the goal of being "settled in life." I am nowhere...

This all started with a hospital visit a few weeks ago. I was unwell and far from my hometown. My local friends were out of town, and I had to go to the clinic by myself. We hear glorified narratives about doing things alone, enjoying our own company. I like my alone time, too. But those independent stories fall short when you are sick. It was an eye issue, so I could not even cry, which felt very ironic. I was terrified, but I kept making up reasons for my fear. I told myself I was afraid of the physical pain. I worried the doctor might judge me. But I was just in denial. The simple truth was that I did not want to be alone. I got better, but the thought stayed with me. Loneliness is usually very quiet. You can be lonely for days and feel fine as you go through your routine. But realizing it is a sudden hit. It happens in perfectly ordinary moments. It is cooking dinner and there’s no one to share the experience of how amazing the food smells or tastes. It is finishing a great movie o...