How often do we truly get to spend time by ourselves? How often do we like spending time all by ourselves? (*scratch scratch*)
When I asked my dad if he could drop me to the nearest theatre – after watching the depressingly tragic movie I wish I had dragged my dad along with me – he was first bemused and then I sensed a faint tremor of shock – or perhaps it was the illusion created by his grey hair standing straight like a punk rocker. “Alone? Why would you want to watch a movie alone?”
*Good question, dad. Considering how I love watching movies*
I, sometimes, feel that we carry around the truth that Aristotle declared many thousand years ago like a sacred talisman that we fear letting go of – Man is a social animal (*roar* or in the case of my sister *oink oink*). And this brings me to a certain set of questions:
1) What was A thinking?
2) Does that mean humans, even though fully capable of being by themselves, must not engage in social activities all by themselves?
3) Must we always be termed as a “bunch of giggly girls” (I have been called that, it was uncool but very funny at the same time) because we are such a failure at being by ourselves?
I would be lying if I said I enjoy being alone ALL THE TIME. I would be lying still if I guaranteed you that NONE of my acquaintances and friends find the “hanging out by themselves” outlandish. While one finds it discomforting, yet another considers it an achievement – “you know I hung out alone today” which she secretly hopes must be followed by applause and confetti.
In the end, I went for the movie alone. I ordered two plates of dim-sums that I did not have to share with anyone. But since the movie was a tearjerker, I had to keep fidgeting with my hair pretending I was trying to fix them so that the dozen kids next to me didn’t think I was:
a) Pregnant lady high on hormones
b) Depressed lady who comes for movies all by herself so that she could cry her heart out in the confines of the comforting darkness
c) Uncool sentimentalist
d) All of the above
As I waited for my dad to pick me up – yep, so much for being a modern, independent woman – I couldn’t deny the fact that no matter how annoying, Martha Stewart wannabe and awesomely hilarious (*feel free to put on your best sarcastic face for this one*) I could be, I am a pretty cool person to hang out with.
Damn! Time to get some more tissues. The credits are still rolling.