There is a bittersweet feeling that follows when something is about to end or when one remembers something that ended. One cannot explain it in words.
In Rabbit Hole, Becca Corbett loses her son in an accident. Her life is stranded after that. She could not think, live, simply be. She does not understand how to live with the grief until her mother mentions her own grief on losing a 30-year-old son due to drug overdose.
She says it is like having a brick inside your pocket for the rest of your life; you can feel the brick’s presence in your pocket forever, sometimes though you might ignore it for a while but it continues to stay in its place.
It happens sometimes that there is grief in our lives. It is like a deep fissure filled with different feelings, one of them being nostalgia — the bittersweet feeling of it.
‘Huzn’ is the Arabic word for grief. It is like you have absorbed the oceans inside but nobody could know from the outside. We grieve when we have lost a loved one, or when nothing can be done of what is gone, or we are born with it.
I think even if you accept the grief, the fissure that it once created remains. Only, with acceptance, the reality becomes more innate to you, like you were born with the fissure regardless of how recent it might be.
It teaches you, this fissure. It teaches you about the mistakes you made, it makes you see yourself in another light. It makes the one you miss appear in another light also.
Nostalgia has a light of its own. That light transforms and transfigures whatever it is shed on. Because it is going to come back, though, in a light different from the one you experienced once upon a time.
I think there is a light in those who have such bricks in their pockets. For those bricks have become a part of who they are, they add to the personality of these individuals. You can spot them in a crowd — people like me are lured towards them in an attempt to know more about their bricks. But they won’t tell, they never tell. Who speaks of the heart who has a heart?