TW – Grief, death.
Grief knows none!
I think that it is grief alone that knows no boundaries.
As I started writing this series on boundaries, I went down the rabbit hole thinking how many of them were violated and how many times. About how I had to learn to establish some boundaries more than others. About how I had to let go of some people because they would refuse to respect my boundaries. And also, about how I had to let go of some people because their other people could not respect boundaries.
I thought of the unbridled tears that had practically washed my face for months in the metro after I lost someone close, and tried to keep myself in check at home, at work, and every place else.
And that brought to front some of the saddest losses in my life. A friend I wished I had been more in touch with during their last stages. Another whom I had just patched up with before I lost them to a sudden cardiac arrest.
And, as I write this piece, I burst into silent tears, even though I am sitting in a café.
Further, as I think of my personal loss, I wonder if there are any boundaries to human connection really? Does collective grief not unite even strangers. I think of Covid. I think of deaths, I think of sickness, I think of so many pyres burning together. I think of the farmers’ protests and the profound sadness that had engulfed the collective consciousness those days.
And then I thought of the wars. Communal hatred, the oppression of one country by another. I thought of how people fight in the name of religion, nationalism, caste, creed, increasingly in the gender. And it took my thoughts back to privilege, power, and abuse of power.
I think of people who would use power and logic, and verbal prowess, and manipulation as tools to abuse others’ trust.
I shiver.
I think of how boundaries protect people from narcs, abusers, predators, etc. And then I settle for the fact that boundaries are important.
I am wondering at the moment if death is the only real, true, ultimate boundary.
But, I know better.
In shared grief, humanity sometimes draws a different kind of boundary. The boundary of unified solidarity.
That boundary, or the lack of it, I will take any day.
And till I come back from the precipice of that boundary, that edge,
Stay safe. Play well.
Asmi
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