Blog #185 – A Short Reflection

It’s rare for me to feel the urge to write a blog and actually complete it within a day. But this thought demands a decluttered narrative.

A simple yet profound question:

Can we smell emotions?

Do we stink of them?

Is this a collective stench or an effervescence?

Here’s my answer in short form.

This story begins in the basement bar of Hotel Pankaj in Sector 22, Chandigarh, in the winter of 1991. At 21, everything about Chandigarh fascinated me—it had an order, a warmth. Whenever I wrapped up work there, I would catch the last bus to Delhi from the Sector 17 bus stand. A ₹50 princely sum for a DTC bus ride. If I missed it, the last option was a Haryana Roadways bus, which avoided the Punjab border and took a detour via Narayangarh.

That night, I missed the DTC bus. The Haryana Roadways bus stood parked, deserted. The conductor casually mentioned that the driver would arrive around 10 PM. It was just past 7 PM, and the cold was settling in. A smoker's instinct led me across the road in search of cigarettes. I noticed Hotel Pankaj’s bar was open.

Before reaching the bus stand, I had stopped at my regular "teen toy" shop, Deepak Radios, to buy two cassette collections and batteries for my Videocon Walkman. With those in hand, I stepped into the dimly lit basement bar. A few men—aged between their 30s and 60s—were speaking loudly, paying no attention to the bland music. I ordered a large Old Monk with Thums Up, lit a Classic cigarette, and asked the server if I could play my cassette.

As ghazals played, the room shifted. Conversations merged. A few drunken men, in a city haunted by terrorism, found solace in poetic verses. I played my collection and everyone connected.  It’s almost unbelievable now, but back then, I was the quietest—in school, among cousins, even in that bar. I was the youngest, the outsider. Yet, that night, until 11 PM, I learned something profound about human nature. How does introversion convert to a vieled extroversion , I learnt that day . 

Strangers can only connect through vice, crime, or trauma.

That night, a thought formed in my mind—"Jaana Jee."

A name for a beloved who exists only in imagination.

We don’t fall in love with people. We fall in love with the image of a beloved in our minds. We carry a frame and try to fit someone into it. Sometimes, they resemble the vision. Sometimes, reality shatters the illusion.

We don’t truly love someone—we love our imaginary version of them first. But, one day, the real person outgrows the rawness of that image.

And then there’s this—emotions have a scent.

Pain carries a fragrance or a stench, one that can only be sensed by those familiar with it.

We don't love people, we love the imaginary image of the beloved in our head first. We carry a "Frame" and then we retrofit the person in that frame, sometimes that person is a close resemblance of that image and sometimes we realize the fragility and silliness of that imagination . We don't love anyone , we love our imaginary vision first , but one day , the person in skin and flesh beats the rawness of that image. All our emotions, our pains trigger a fragrance or stench and it can only be smelt by someone who is familiar of this , pain, emotions and smell .

Science now recognizes patterns in emotionally scarred individuals. Though this isn't from a psychology journal, here’s what I’ve seen:

1. Extroverted Introverts – They can’t talk about pain, so they bury it under endless conversations. , they create a heap of conversations of other irrelevant things. Like a deodorant masking a lingering stench.
2. People Pleasers – They seek validation through socializing but fear rejection. They overextend, then withdraw, exhausted.
3. Overthinkers – Trauma has made them hyper-aware of social cues. They read a room effortlessly but spiral into an endless over-analysis later
4. Cyclical Social Burnout – They crave connection but get overwhelmed and disappear. They are either always there or just disappear.  Their social life is a push-pull between presence and retreat.
5. Fear of Abandonment vs. Need for Independence – They initiate a connection to escape loneliness but retreat when it gets too close. They long for intimacy but fear dependence.. They appear outgoing but struggle with real emotional intimacy. They use physical closeness as a cover—but it never truly works.

Many find such people odd. But my conclusion?

Don’t change. Don’t alter. Meet yourself. Stay friends with your real self, buff the mirror and see yourself, Smell the pain! 

One day, the frame will find a picture in realism, far more beautiful than imagination.

Incidentally, those Deepak Radios cassettes and Old Monk are still part of who I am. And everyone who has been close to me shares a common trait—

We don’t seek a beloved. We seek someone who understands the landscape of our trauma.

तलाश-ए-मंज़िल-ए-जाना इक बहाना था, तमाम उम्र मैं अपनी तरफ़ रवाना था !

मैं तेरी धुन में रवां था मुझे पता न चला, गुबार-ए-राह में शामिल ग़म-ए-ज़माना था !

Today's Ghazal has been on my channel since last year ....

Yaar Khafa Ho jaana humse , sach to Kehna Banta hai ....Tum jaiso ka hum jaiso ke dil mein rehna banta hai ....

Rest is Serendipity !