That Feeling

A neighborhood cafe

I like this cafe. It is within walking distance of my home. It is nothing too special for someone who is not me. But it is unique in that it sells not just coffee but also plants. The name feels special too. That Feeling. Sometimes, you do not have a name for that feeling. I ended the previous blog post with a sad feeling, a feeling with no name. Feelings are like cocktails. Sometimes, you can point fingers at the ingredients. Many times, you cannot. Most languages do not have adequate words to describe the shades of love, friendships, and other relationships in the world. We have friends. Good friends. Best friend? I dislike that phrase. It assumes there is one best friend. You must break up with your previous best friend because you found another one. 

The interiors of That Feeling

Often we assign biological roles to friendships. In many countries across Asia, we call our older friends "elder brother" or "elder sister" and younger friends "younger brother" or "younger sister." We don't mean anything with that, as it is more of a matter of respect for the age rather than an actual sibling-like feeling. Then, I also intentionally declared certain friends to be brothers and sisters. But do we need close friends to be siblings, children, parents, or uncles/aunts? Languages lack words to describe feelings and relationships. We are using something that probably is close enough as a loose replacement. Maybe those brothers and sisters you made in friends are not siblings, after all. They are more than just a friend. You do not have a label on them. We don't care about words that much. 

 

Memories define us

Literature has words. But I look for words we use in everyday practice. Love, 爱, and ආදර are used more generally (for example, love my country/ආදර මගේ රට.) காதல் is used more specifically for love between romantic partners, although some people use it as in "love your country" too. There are other words, too. We have பாசம்/நேசம்/விருப்பம்/அன்பு/කැමතියි/desire/lust/... But we still don't have enough words in daily use (not poetic literature) to explain all the shades of love and friendships. I look for words like the 12 levels of friendships in Arabic. Nibras taught me a few Arabic words on Twitter. Hubb (love in general), Ishq (deep, passionate love, soulmates), Mawaddah (mutual fondness between friends), Rahmah (compassionate or merciful love), Gharam (romantic infatuated love, passion), and Hawa (romantic sentimental love). He also shared some similar words from Urdu: Mohabbat (love/affection), Ishq (passionate, intense love), Pyaar (casual term for love), Dosti (friendship), Izzat (respect/honor in a relationship), Khuloos (sincerity / pure love), Jazbaat (emotions/feelings), and Dil ki Baat (matters of the heart). I am sure we are losing something in translation here. Not everything is easy to translate. We need more such words for common use across all languages. For you and me. Not just for elites.

Random walks

But sometimes, we do not need words. Most of my beautiful friendships/relationships are with people who do not speak my mother tongue. I recall one of my favorite songs: உள்ளங்கள் பேசும் மொழி அறிந்தால், உன் ஜீவன் துடிக்கத் தேவையில்லை. இரு கண்கள் பேசும் வார்த்தைகளை, இரு நூறு மொழிகள் சொல்வதில்லை. This loosely translates to: "If you understand the language of the hearts, you don't need to beat your soul. Two hundred languages will not express the words spoken by two eyes."

At least for me, feelings are usually mutual. If I like someone, usually they like me too. Sometimes, I feel like I do not like someone, and I imagine that feeling is mutual, too. "I think I dislike you for reasons unknown to me. Do you dislike me too?" That would be borderline weird in a bad way. But that is rare. I like people more than I dislike them. But that is where the word "like" fails me. I like people in general. But I like-like a few specifically. I love them. The word "love" is loaded with layers of romance and patriotism. And morning coffee. I love my coffee with coconut cream.

Hello, fellow traveler...

Memories shape my perception of a place. Sometimes, we are all travelers. Other times, one of us is a local. Mahas taught me an Urdu word on Twitter. Humsafar. It literally means fellow traveler. While it is used romantically to refer to a soulmate, it could also refer to others. I like that. This reminds me of the sweet people I encounter on my journey. In a way, I treat new countries and new friends similarly. I personify the land. I fell in love with Portugal and Alaska almost instantly. Then, a few places took their time to impress me. Some cities did not even try. Maybe they did not want to be friends with me, and that is okay. The feeling is mutual. Probably. I often travel in Alaska during mid-winter. I got stuck twice in blizzard conditions. I had to stay two more nights in Fairbanks and three more nights in the Adak Island, beyond what I initially planned. Lands have a soul. Sometimes, they do not want you to leave.

People are like lands, too. You meet someone. They become friends with you. You learn about their culture. A little bit of their language. Their philosophy. And their mannerisms. There is a little bit of their country in them. If they are an immigrant, there are probably two or more countries. People you meet along the way influence you the same way the lands influence you. Fellow travelers, after all. Our universes collided at that little point in time-space. Will the place still be the same when we return, if not for the people? We met by chance once when we were strangers. Now that we know each other, will we meet again by choice?