top of page

Experience of people - 02

Sometimes I feel like I was I was born with

some kind of sadness mixed with my blood,

But with a spirit that refuses to accept defeat.

I was the funny friend of my friends group. You

know the one that gives you advises and listens

your problems. I was the joker of my childhood

friends group. I was always carefree and

friendly . I still remember one of my friend

saying “ Noor ko to kabhi kisi chiz ki tension hi

nahi rehti hai “ (Noor is never worried about

anything) but I still remember crying alone and

not sharing my problems with anyone because I

thought only fools share emotions and as if it

was a weakness, I remember bottling up my

thoughts and emotions. It was all bearable until

I was thirteen. But after that things began to

change not just at home but in school as well. I

began to indulge in a lot of overthinking. In

eight standard I got separated from my friends

group as I got section A while they got B. I start


feeling a little left out as I became that friend

who was mostly unaware about the things

happening in our group. Sad part was that

even there I started feeling an outcast and that

hurts. In my own family I’ve always felt like that

for some reason. We are a family of six

member.

My parents , my elder sister, my elder brother,

me and my younger brother. We were always a

normal middle class family. My father was

always busy in his work (finance agent) and my

mother is a also a school teacher so she was

also busy.

They didn’t get much time to give the

emotional security to give to their children. And

I don’t blame them either. It’s just that when I

turned fourteen my father came to live with us

and before that he would only come for a week

or something. Because he was working in our

hometown. While we moved here for our


education. My father was very different from

my mother he has changed now with age but

back then he was this young, angry man who

demanded much from life and from everyone

around. But he was also very loving sometimes

he gave us the best education and he only

wanted the best from us but I was kind of used

to the laid back and relaxed environment that

my mother created so it was new to me and a

little difficult I admit. Not to say I don’t love

him. But I guess my relationship with him was

never very good. My parents never had a

romantic kind of relationship they were mostly

involved in arguments, we grew up watching

arguments and fights. Perhaps both of my

parents were at fault you can’t just blame one

person but I was too young too know. When I

turned fourteen I started thinking about

everything it's like my mind became an enemy

to me. I started being paranoid with my peers


as well. I remember how I stopped talking too

much or laughing in school as I expected my

friends to be there for me and stay patient with

me but I remember being mocked and called as

becoming ‘antonio’ ( with nameless

melancholy) (Shakespeare character) by a

friend. But I guess when you are in those times

no one really understands the inner struggles

that you are going through. As they say- “pain

demands to be felt”. My pain was funny to the

people around..

Because I was supposed to be the funny friend.

But I was tired I was sad and I was tired of

pretending anymore. That friendly, goofy girl

became an aloof and serious girl. But I thought

my friends wouldn’t leave me. Perhaps it was

my fault I stopped being the friend with jokes

and advises but I became the one who needed

it. That’s when I become alone. Maybe it was

my fault but I just needed someone to


understand what I wasn’t willing to talk about

because I didn’t know how to.

My “friends” abandoned me.

My family was dealing with financial issues as

well. We lived in a rented house with two

room. Privacy was only a luxury. I still

remember trying to study for my board exams

while my parents and siblings talked loudly or

had arguments. It was hard. Not anyone’s fault

but It was all taking a toll on me.

After tenth standard I got the opportunity to go

to Delhi by getting an admission in Jamia Millia

Islamia. So I studied hard and prayed to get into

it. Although I was really pessimistic but I got

selected and it was something that made me

truly happy after a long time.

Unaware of the million challenges awaiting me

there. I just decided to go there and my parents

were supporting enough to send me as well. In


Jamia getting a hostel was really difficult back

then. At first I stayed in a PG with a friend that

I made in the entrance exam. As the tiffin

services were expensive we decided to cook on

our own. It was terrific. Our dal would get

burned. Our sink would get clogged . We had to

do the dishes after coming back from school.

Just two seventeen year old girls trying to settle

in a new city while the owner annoyed us with

his unexpected visits. So after a month my

friend decided to leave and she didn’t tell me

about it when I had already paid the rent. One

day her brother came while she packed and

left.

I cried that night. Felt alone and broken.

Nevertheless things got better but then my

mother asked me to shift to my relatives house

who were living in Delhi. They had a family of

five. My uncle, aunt their two sons and a

daughter. I was scared to live with them


because although they seemed nice, I felt

wrong about it.

But seeing my mother’s trust I agreed. When I

started living with them that’s when my mental

health kind of deteriorated. It was just that I

hated how sarcastic they were about

everything also how insensitive people become

sometimes not that they abused me or

anything but just something I can’t quite

explain. I felt like a total stranger burdened on

them. Perhaps I was but when I complained

about it to my family they made it look like I

was someone who needed more comfort

someone who was arrogant while they were

ready to keep me. I never tried to paint them in

a bad picture but I just wanted someone to

understand. I was so young. I was a child.

I wasn’t a villian. But asking for something bare

minimum made me feel like. Its not that they

were all like that it wasn’t even their fault they


were doing their best for a unsolicited guest at

home, but my family should have understood.

But I guess no one is to blame but the

circumstances. I remember trying to explain to

my brother how bad I felt but then him making

me feel like I am creating unnecessary drama

and as suffering in silence is what everyone’s

supposed to do. Not that he didn’t love me but

I guess it’s just how he was. I still remember

crying alone in that room upstairs. No friends,

no one to listen just me and my agony

becoming closer to each other.

But that’s when I also became closer to God. I

stopped expecting anyone to understand me, I

started replying more on God. In those times I

realised no matter how many explanations you

give people can only get your perspective

within their emotional intelligence. Now I am

not saying that people are dumb but just that

expecting someone to understand your


situation truly is perhaps asking a bit too much.

Perhaps becoming your own best friend,

learning how to be kind to yourself and being

patient with your own self is very important.

In 2020 I got diagnosed with retina

degeneration. I had to get a laser therapy done.

My eyesight was getting worse. I still remember

crying suddenly and shivering. The uncertainty

about the future would give me immense

anxiety. It’s like I could be laughing on a joke

halfway and my mind would remind me about

how my eyesight is so weak and how my future

is bleak and I would just start feeling worthless

all of a sudden. I would cry sometimes loudly,

sometimes quietly. My family called me crazy, I

felt like a bad child, ungrateful about the

blessings.

But I swear to God I was grateful but I was

afraid. I felt so alone. I needed someone to tell

me that It's only God who knows the future and


the way he has taken care of me until now. He

will take care of me further as well. After he

doesn’t burden a should beyond it can bear.

Times were tough and I still go through phases

of sadness but now I suppose I’ve stopped

asking much from life and the people around

me. I know I am not the best version of myself

but I’ve learnt to accept this imperfect and not

so best me.

 And these days I am just trying to be more

compassionate with myself and be more

patient in my journey just like I would do to

my bestfriend, I am trying to befriend

myself….


(Noor E Hera)

20 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Experience of people - 07

I am a blank slate, easy to omit from the memory of anyone whom I may happen to meet and easy to be rewritten just the way I just want....

Experience of people - 05

My name is Sana Umar, and my journey has been a relentless battle against the shadows of depression, anxiety disorder, and social...

Comments


Want your Experience to be published?

Join us in breaking the silence around mental health. By sharing your story, you contribute to fostering empathy and encouraging others to seek help. Your voice matters, offering comfort, hope, and the knowledge that no one is alone. As a thank you, receive a free therapy session and a certificate when your experience is published. Let's create a world where mental health is discussed openly and compassionately. Share your story; make a difference today.

bottom of page