I woke up today seeing myself next to my little family, my wife and my daughter, found myself fully covered in the bedsheet and leaving them uncovered by the bedsheet. It was funny because I remember the night before I had made sure that I covered my family with the same bedsheet which I found myself draped in. I found this funny because it reminded me of a lovely scene from Charlie Chaplin’s movie “The Kid” where Chaplin does the same thing that I did.
My wife asked me why am I laughing and I showed her this beautiful scene from the movie (see from 56th minute if the video plays from beginning).
This Chaplin movie had so much that every time we see the film we find something that connects with us.
One of the best things about Chaplin’s movies is that they made us laugh and cry at the same time.
I and my wife continued watching the film and we completed the movie.
As the movie progressed there is a scene where Chaplin is sad about his adopted son going missing and he searches everywhere when he couldn’t find his son anywhere he goes back to his house and instead of entering the house sleeps at the door.
This scene reminded me of one of my uncle’s pain of losing their 12-year-old daughter last year during covid
Their family went through a traumatic experience which I experienced only via phone because I was scared to cry in front of others. I gave seemingly valid excuses of covid lockdown for not attending the funeral of my 12-year-old cousin. The unexpressed grief became pain and slowly it metamorphized into Guilt. The guilt of not staying connected to my super talented cousin whom I lost to suicide caused by loneliness due to no schools during the covid lockdown.
I had once promised myself, 5 years back, to make her the next designer from my family because I saw her as genuinely more talented than the rest. Her only crime was being born in a village where the only possible future a girl child could have was being a housewife. Her parents wanted her to shine in her life, which is why she participated in different reality shows as a child singer. Probably they tried to polish her too much that the child couldn’t bear her own shine.
The guilt of not being able to be of any help to people who can get my help sometimes burns me from the inside, but the pain of not crying enough when it was required the most and burying myself at work and claiming “I want to empathize with the business owners in the US” has still not left me.
It’s been a while since my cousin hung herself by the fan when there was no one in the house. I have still not visited my grieving uncle and aunt. This unexpressed grief has become guilt and sometimes is difficult to bear.
My uncle and aunt have left the house they built because they couldn’t live in a house with so many memories of their lost child anymore. The pain of losing your loved one is unbearable and I feel so sorry for my uncle.
The Chaplin’s movie this morning where Chaplin sleeps at the door and hesitates to get into the house reminded me of this unexpressed grief within me that sometimes visits me.
