I know nothing about loneliness

I was in my late 20’s and there was a lot on my mind. I wasn’t supposed to be so alone on a New Year’s day. It was January 1, and I was walking along the 1188 6th avenue, in New York City. I had come to the United States to get a masters degree, which I had successfully finished a few weeks back, but to stay in this country, I needed to quickly find a job. On Dec 30, the feeling of receiving millions of rejection emails got me. I was done. Everyone around me had got jobs, and I was struggling alone. So I decided to show my sorrows, larger than life manmade structures and the spirit of a dream, to make them feel small and insignificant. I decided to visit New York City, whose skyline was always my laptop/PC wallpaper since I was a kid. There was something about the city, which I was always attracted to, but never got a chance to visit. The iconic buildings, people reading books on the subway, people in suits running around with coffee and bagels in their hands. I decided to buy a bus tickit to New York City, without an agenda. I wanted to escape my thoughts. I decided to end the year on a high, by attending the famous Ball Drop event at Times Square.

I was all alone here, to celebrate. Which I did. It was a grand spectacle of a new year’s countdown, with flashy lights, glaring music performance and confetti all around. But to experience all of this, I stood in line for 6 hours on a rainy night, and I got to see the ball drop from 4 streets far. Amidst the pompous celebration, I felt lonely. I was missing my friends, my family, my colleagues, everyone. What has it come down to? In my time in India where I am originally from, I was always surrounded by people. None of my new years’ was all by myself. But I was here, in this magnificent city, trying to take in the melancholy.

It was early morning, around 7am, and I was walking home from the ball drop event at Times Square. I had contacted one of those facebook groups where some people let you stay at their places at nominal fees. I had found a small tiny apartment in Manhattan, where the owner was out on a vacation, he had left his keys for me. The apartment was so small, that there was no more room for anything other than a mattress and a table. Nor was there a need, because the place’s tiny window had a stellar skyline view. What I didn’t know was that the apartment was a very old building, trying to stay strong amidst the fast changing city landscape and once acted as a refugee camp for immigrants from Ireland. The place had a strong smell of incense, which I think are reminiscences of the refugees who prayed here when they were alive. In a small way, I was still a part of that legacy.

As I was walking along the street, a small 2 seater car caught my eye. It had a shiny lavender color. The window of the car almost acted like a clear mirror. The early morning sun reflected on this car, and it seemed like the car, in all its glory, was showing off its existence. I looked into the windows, to look at my tired early morning face. The sunshine mirrored a golden streak in my hair. This streak reminded me of a memory. When I was in my 2nd grade of school, my teachers somehow had an intuition that I can act in a play. That I could narrate a story. For the school annual function, after weeks of practice, I was ready to set my foot for the first time on a stage as a 7 year old. Before hopping on, we were required to put makeup on our faces. I was very reluctant but my English teacher powdered me white, applied a bright red lipstick on my lips. She also gave me a peck on my cheek and wished me all the best. And as soon as she turned to exit the green room, she accidentally dropped a small packet of gold sparkle on my hair. And because my mom used to oil my hair everyday, we could not remove all the sparkles. Some of it stayed, like a streak. And I climbed the stage. Even though I was a kid, I still remember how performing on stage felt. Because of the bright studio light focused on me, I could see darkness in front of me. I could see nobody, just some hazy shadows and whispers. I forgot who I was, who I want to be, I forgot where I had come from. I was just there, reciting my lines. I had become one with the performance. And it was addictive. I started performing various arts. Tried various artsy things, to keep that kid who lost himself on stage, alive. This reflection today reminded me of me being on a stage. Setting my hair right, I started walking again.

The feeling of loneliness creeped again. I could not call anyone at home for the next 12 hours, because of the time zone difference. I was walking along one of the world’s hottest zip codes, yet I felt anything but bright. I was not supposed to be this lonely this early in my life. As I looked at people around me, rushing to go somewhere, I felt this is how it’s going to be.

So I decided to shoo this feeling away, how? By eating good food. My budgets only allowed me a decent McDonalds meal, so I entered the restaurant with the golden arches. It was the first day of a new year, the store was full of confetti. There weren’t many people around, just a handful of people like me, who were returning home after the celebration. The young lady at the counter had just started her shift, and seemed excited for the new year. She was probably a college student working part time. The place had the smell of fresh fries, I could imagine those crisp potato chips with salt sprinkled on them. There was a huge billboard of Happy New Year behind the counter. “Hi, Good morning. Can I have a chicken biscuit with fries, and a hot cup of coffee please?” After waiting for a couple of mins for my fast food, I took a tray and climbed the stairs to go on the first floor to sit.

In New York, most fast food chains have multi storied seatings because of crammed spaces. There was no one around on the 1st floor, except a very old lady. She looked very sad. She was wearing a McDonald’s uniform, but it was not as vibrant and fresh as the one the lady at the counter was wearing. She was probably Korean, definitely not from the US. This old lady was swiping off the confetti. She was cleaning up after the celebration people had last night. Looking at her, I started thinking, “ The whole world is celebrating the new year. It’s her new year as well. She is in New York City, in America, to live the American Dream. Where is her family? Where would her friends be? She too is an immigrant, maybe her family is back home in Korea, maybe she sends money back home from the work she does here. Maybe her children have abandoned her. So many maybes. I immediately stood up, went up to her and said “Hello ma’am, I want to wish you a very happy new year. May this year be the best year for you”. As soon as I said these words, she looked up. She had old gray eyes. She looked at me, with a confused look. In just 2 seconds, her old gray eyes were filled with tears. Her emotions decided to come out as droplets of tears. She said, “ No one has ever wished me a happy new year in my life. This is already the best year of my life”.

That broke me. What just happened? I didn’t give her money, I didn’t offer her food, I didn’t decide to do anything for her. I just wished her. That made her feel so much? Are we all so deprived of well wishes? Why didn’t anybody wish her? All she needed were a few words of acknowledgment that she too exists in this big beautiful world. I didn’t know her story, but this incident changed something in me forever.

I side hugged her and left the store. I said goodbye. I now walked down the same path, down the street. I remember how just 30 mins back, I was feeling lonely, even extrapolating the feeling to my entire life. In a few hours, I will talk to my parents and friends. I will go back to my town and celebrate with my friends when I get a job. I can go watch a movie, listen to music, eat pizza, whatever. But that old lady? Probaby, she would still be alone tonight. And tomorrow and for many more new year eves. I came back to the apartment knowing that I know nothing about loneliness.That night, I decided that I wanted to put myself in other people’s shoes more often so that my perspective changes. Next time you meet someone who needs to hear kind words, do it. You may never know, which word of yours may change their lives.

Thank you for reading! (I wrote this in 2023, thought of sharing it with ya’ll here, should I write and share entries like these more often?)