LONELINESS IS HEAVEN
- Madhukar Dama
- 1 day ago
- 10 min read
This is not for artists.
Not for escapists.
Not for depressed lovers.
This is for the one who has lived through the crowd,
obeyed the family,
played the employee,
pleased the spouse,
fought the relatives,
and finally...
walked away.
---
LONELINESS IS HEAVEN
loneliness is not a feeling.
it’s a detox.
from 30 years of fake smiles at family functions,
useless weddings,
and forced Diwalis.
you sit on the floor,
alone,
no one's calling.
and for the first time —
your ears stop ringing from everyone else's noise.
you eat plain rice with pickle.
and it's the best meal of your life.
because nobody is watching your plate,
judging your portions,
commenting on your weight.
you stop explaining why you didn’t call,
why you don’t want kids,
why you’re not “settled,”
why you left that “good job,”
why you said no to that rishta.
you stop pretending to be spiritual
to fit into the new middle-class trend.
you stop touching feet
just to survive the manipulations.
you don't care who dies,
who's sick,
who's having a baby,
who's buying a flat,
who's got their Canada PR.
you just don’t.
because your shoulders
finally put down a hundred years of borrowed burdens.
loneliness is heaven
because for the first time
you don't owe anyone your energy,
your time,
your sunday,
your savings,
your sleep.
no birthday parties to attend,
no newborns to fake-smile at,
no housewarmings to envy,
no anniversaries to clap at.
no mother asking what you ate.
no cousin asking what you earn.
no neighbour asking when you'll marry.
you wake up when you want.
you walk when you want.
you shit when you want.
and nobody asks why you didn’t wish them good morning.
your phone stays silent
and your blood pressure finally normalises.
you lose touch with society,
and gain touch with your spine.
no boss, no godman, no mother-in-law, no astrologer
is running your life anymore.
you don't visit temples to beg.
you don’t join NGOs to prove you’re good.
you don’t vote hoping for change.
you finally know
that every saviour is a salesman.
and that your loneliness
is the only space
where nobody is selling you anything.
no clothes to impress.
no car to show off.
no apps to track your mood.
no one to confess to.
and in that dirty kurta,
with muddy feet
and calloused hands,
you realise —
this is the cleanest you’ve ever been.
loneliness is heaven
because you finally stop lying.
no one’s asking if you’re okay.
and you don’t have to lie “I’m fine.”
no one’s pretending to love you.
and you don’t have to pretend to love them back.
no one’s giving you advice.
and you don’t have to nod like a grateful idiot.
you’re not building a legacy.
not raising a future topper.
not earning to provide.
not living to impress.
you’re just living.
you feel like a madman at first.
then you realise
the rest of them are mad.
running like rats
for respect, followers, votes, likes, approval, awards.
you sit by yourself
and finally feel normal.
loneliness is not heaven
because it is pleasant.
it is heaven
because everything else was hell.
---
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LONELINESS IS HEAVEN
Why Walking Away Is the Most Human Thing Left in a Fake World
INTRODUCTION:
Everyone in India talks about relationships, connections, family, community.
No one talks about the price of being surrounded.
What it costs — to belong.
You are told:
“Never be alone.”
“People are everything.”
“Keep in touch.”
“Don’t isolate yourself.”
What they don’t tell you is this:
Every person you allow into your life wants a piece of you.
Time, energy, attention, money, compliance, respect, obedience.
And very few — if any — ever return peace in exchange.
Which is why, one day, loneliness stops feeling like a punishment.
And starts feeling like oxygen.
---
SECTION 1: THE FAMILY TRAP
In most Indian families, love means control.
You’re never alone because everyone has a say in your life.
You're not allowed to think freely — the moment you do, they label it “attitude” or “disrespect.”
From eating habits to career to marriage — they decide, you obey.
Common examples:
A son living alone is seen as depressed or selfish.
A daughter unmarried at 30 is seen as failure.
Choosing solitude is equated to mental illness.
But what if the real illness
is the constant interference?
Consequences:
Emotional suffocation
Zero personal space
Constant guilt for not being “dutiful”
Lifelong people-pleasing habits
Loneliness becomes heaven because no one is sitting in your head, running scripts of “log kya kahenge?”
---
SECTION 2: THE MARRIAGE LIE
Marriage in India is rarely about love.
It is a lifelong contract of expectations.
Be available.
Be presentable.
Be productive.
Be forgiving — always.
People don’t marry to share life.
They marry to avoid being seen as a failure.
And once inside, the cost of pretending every day is enormous.
Pretending to love.
Pretending to agree.
Pretending to need sex when you don’t.
Pretending to be okay with suffocation.
Pretending your children are “worth it.”
Real truth:
More people feel lonelier inside marriage than outside it.
But no one says it.
Because marriage is worshipped like a God in India —
Even if it slowly kills you from the inside.
Loneliness becomes heaven
when the only person you have to take care of
is you.
---
SECTION 3: FRIENDSHIPS AND SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS
Most friendships in adulthood are utility-based.
Career help. Childcare help. Financial help. Emotional dumping.
No one is truly there.
They’re just using each other for comfort or distraction.
Even festivals, birthdays, gatherings — are all staged events.
Photos. Reels. Food. Gossip. Disapproval.
There is no real intimacy.
Only performance.
You attend parties just to avoid being asked,
"Why are you always alone?"
You tolerate loud people, fake smiles, backhanded compliments, and shallow conversation.
Loneliness becomes heaven
because silence is cleaner than company.
---
SECTION 4: WORK AND PROFESSIONAL TRAPS
Work life in India — especially urban middle class — is a slow suicide.
You spend 10–12 hours a day obeying idiots.
You beg for leaves.
You smile at people you despise.
You sacrifice health for promotions.
And when you quit or collapse, no one even remembers your name.
You’re replaceable.
Most of your “work friends” are just fellow prisoners waiting for their own escape.
You can’t say what you think.
You can’t dress how you like.
You can’t grow slow.
You must climb.
But loneliness becomes heaven
when you finally stop climbing
and start breathing.
---
SECTION 5: SPIRITUALITY, GURUS, AND RELIGIOUS TRAPS
Even God has been reduced to a transaction.
You go to temples not for peace, but for “results.”
You touch feet out of fear, not respect.
You follow rituals to gain favour, not clarity.
You join ashrams, retreats, WhatsApp groups — to be seen as wise, not to be alone.
You aren’t spiritual.
You’re addicted to spiritual performance.
You never sit alone under a tree.
But you’ll pay 20,000 rupees for a weekend silence retreat.
You don’t seek God.
You seek crowd-approved enlightenment.
Loneliness becomes heaven
when you finally realise
that truth does not speak in groups.
---
SECTION 6: DIGITAL AND TECHNOLOGY TRAPS
You check your phone 200 times a day
and still feel empty.
You scroll endlessly,
not because you're interested,
but because you’re afraid to be alone with your mind.
Social media is not social.
It’s noise addiction.
You post your breakfast,
your baby’s birthday,
your fitness journey,
not to remember it —
but so others don't forget you exist.
You fear being unseen.
Unheard.
Untagged.
Loneliness becomes heaven
when you delete the apps
and for the first time
become real again.
---
SECTION 7: THE FINAL PEACE — AND WHY MOST NEVER REACH IT
The reason most Indians never taste true loneliness is simple:
They never burn the bridges.
They fear being judged.
They fear losing family.
They fear dying alone.
They fear what people will think.
So they return — again and again —
to the same traps.
They wear the mask.
They attend the events.
They accept the disrespect.
They lie about their peace.
They never heal.
But the rare one who walks away —
who truly walks away —
discovers this:
You don’t need people to survive.
You need peace to survive.
And peace doesn’t live in noise, marriage, status, or groups.
It lives in
silence,
truth,
freedom,
and aloneness.
---
CONCLUSION:
Loneliness is not a disease.
It is a door.
One that leads away from society’s noise
and into your own sanity.
Those who have tasted it
never return to the crowd.
Not because they hate people.
But because they have met themselves —
and finally,
that was enough.
---
---
HEALING DIALOGUE
“I Was Never Alone — But I Was Never Myself.”
Setting:
Madhukar’s off-grid home 2 km into the forest near Yelmadagi.
It’s late evening. The birds are returning to their nests. A soft fire crackles.
Three visitors — all in their 40s — have come for healing.
Rajesh: A senior manager who lives with extended family in Bengaluru. Always surrounded, never heard.
Meena: A mother of two, married for 17 years. Drowning in family duties. Feels guilty for craving silence.
Suresh: A divorced man who’s been shamed for living alone. Called arrogant, selfish, failure.
They sit with Madhukar, who is preparing a pot of ragi porridge. His wife Savitri quietly peels bananas for drying.
His daughters, Adhya and Anju, are barefoot, playing with fireflies in the garden.
---
RAJESH:
I’ve never lived alone, Madhukar.
From childhood to now — always shared rooms, shared homes, shared responsibilities.
But I feel empty. Used up. Lost.
MEENA:
Same here.
Every day someone is around me. Kids, husband, in-laws, neighbours.
I’m never alone. But I’ve never been myself.
SURESH:
I live alone.
But people say I’ve failed.
“No one wants him.” “He must be mentally unstable.”
I’ve been mocked in weddings, family events, even in work meetings.
Is loneliness really heaven?
It doesn’t feel like it.
---
Madhukar slowly stirs the porridge, then speaks.
MADHUKAR:
It’s not heaven in the beginning.
It’s withdrawal.
You’ve spent 40 years being who they wanted.
You’ve never met your real self.
So when the noise stops,
you don’t feel peace.
You feel panic.
Not because you are unwell —
but because for the first time,
you’re unmasked.
---
RAJESH:
But I can’t just walk away.
Family, job, responsibilities… I have to be there.
MADHUKAR:
I didn’t say abandon them.
I said stop letting them eat you alive.
You have given everyone access —
to your time, thoughts, emotions, money, body.
But you never gave that access to yourself.
---
MEENA:
I feel guilty for wanting to be alone.
Like I’m a bad wife, bad mother.
Even taking a walk alone… they ask: “Where are you going?”
MADHUKAR:
Women in India are trained to fear solitude.
Because a woman who sits alone
starts thinking.
And a thinking woman is a threat
—to tradition, religion, control.
Let them call you selfish.
Because being available 24/7
has only made you disappear.
---
SURESH:
They say I'm lonely.
But I finally feel okay.
I eat what I want. Sleep when I want. Read, walk, grow food.
Is that wrong?
MADHUKAR:
No.
It’s just rare.
Because most people need an audience to feel alive.
But you’re living without performance.
That scares them.
Your peace makes their restlessness obvious.
---
(Savitri serves the porridge. Adhya brings water. Anju sits near Suresh, smiling shyly. Silence.)
---
RAJESH:
What should I do?
I can’t move out. But I’m dying inside.
MADHUKAR:
You don’t need to leave the house.
You need to leave the drama.
Start saying:
“No, I’m resting.”
“No, I won’t attend that function.”
“No, I don’t want to explain.”
“No, I’m not interested.”
Even if you stay in the same room,
you can reclaim your mind.
---
MEENA:
And what do I do about guilt?
When I shut the door, I hear their voices in my head…
MADHUKAR:
Then listen to them fully.
And ask one question:
Did these people ever protect your peace?
Or did they just keep demanding more?
If they didn’t protect your peace,
they never deserved your guilt.
---
SURESH:
How long does it take
to feel heaven in loneliness?
MADHUKAR:
That depends.
If you keep waiting for someone to validate your solitude —
you’ll never get there.
But the day you stop needing a witness,
the moment you sit with yourself
and feel no craving,
no shame,
no pressure —
you’ll realise:
Heaven was always inside you.
Just buried under
approval, community, duty, and performance.
---
RAJESH:
And when the people come asking again?
MADHUKAR:
They will.
They’ll say you’ve changed.
They’ll try to pull you back with guilt, love, fake concern.
Smile.
And say:
“Yes. I have changed.
I have met someone new.
Myself.”
---
(A silence. A deep breath. The porridge tastes like peace.)
---
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12-MONTH TRANSFORMATION:
The Ones Who Walked Back into Themselves
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Month 1 – The Friction Begins
Rajesh starts saying no.
He skips one wedding. His wife fumes. His mother sulks. But he sleeps deeply that night.
Meena takes a one-hour walk alone every evening.
No explanation. No guilt. Her husband mocks her: “What new Swamiji are you following now?”
She says nothing. But her digestion improves.
Suresh deletes Instagram and blocks four relatives who only called to shame him.
His loneliness deepens — but for the first time, it feels like his own.
---
Month 3 – The Pushback Intensifies
Rajesh refuses to attend weekend office calls.
His manager warns him: “No visibility, no promotion.”
He replies calmly: “I choose visibility to my family and myself.”
Meena locks the bathroom door and sits there for 15 minutes every afternoon — just to sit.
Her kids bang the door. She doesn’t respond. She finally has a space of her own.
Suresh grows coriander, tomatoes, and brinjal on his terrace.
Neighbours say: “Why not remarry and settle down?”
He smiles. “I am settled. The plants agree.”
---
Month 6 – The Silence Matures
Rajesh starts writing.
Every night, a page of his truth.
No readers. No likes.
Just him.
His blood pressure normalises.
Meena eats one meal a day alone.
No kitchen rush. No pressure. No multitasking.
She tastes the food — and her life — after 17 years.
Suresh walks barefoot every morning for 4 km.
No music. No podcasts. Just the sound of gravel and breath.
He begins to smile — not to impress, but because his face remembers how.
---
Month 9 – The World Feels Distant, But Lighter
Rajesh transforms his store room into a silent room.
He tells his family: “When I’m in here, don’t knock.”
They laugh at first.
Then they learn.
The house becomes quieter.
Meena learns to say: “I don’t want to talk right now.”
No explanation. No faking politeness.
Her friends reduce in number. But her clarity increases.
Suresh finds his rhythm.
No alarms. No regrets. No need to be seen.
He reads old Kannada poetry, lights a lamp every evening,
and feels like a complete human — alone.
---
Month 12 – Loneliness Has Turned to Sovereignty
Rajesh no longer fears family drama.
They can label him rude, selfish, or distant.
He knows one thing now: Peace is not a luxury. It’s oxygen.
He now mentors two juniors — not for promotion, but because he wants to.
Meena creates a small corner garden.
She begins teaching her children how to sit quietly for 10 minutes a day.
Sometimes they resist. Sometimes they enjoy.
But she is no longer an exhausted martyr.
She is becoming her own woman.
Suresh builds a small bench outside his home.
He sits under the neem tree every dusk.
Some children come to talk. Some elders come to complain.
He listens, but carries nothing.
He has finally understood:
Solitude is not absence.
It is wholeness.
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