THE MISSING TOUCH
- Madhukar Dama
- 3 days ago
- 5 min read
Why Indians are emotionally starving in a crowded country
INTRODUCTION
India is overflowing with people.
But people are starving for something invisible.
Not food. Not money. Not love.
But touch.
The tender hand on the shoulder.
The long hug without reason.
The playful pat on the back.
The gentle foot massage from a grandparent.
The warm head rest on a mother’s lap.
All of it is dying —
in homes, schools, marriages, hospitals, even temples.
And so, a strange new disease spreads:
People feel lonely, anxious, unloved…
In a house full of people.
This is not Western.
This is not urban.
This is everywhere.
Because the soul of touch has been buried beneath shame, screens, speed, and fear.
---
1. WHAT IS TOUCH?
Touch is not just physical.
It’s emotional transmission.
It is the language of connection without words.
Before you could speak, someone held you.
Before you understood “I love you,” you were touched.
Before the mind was shaped, the body was cradled.
Touch says:
“You exist.”
“You matter.”
“You’re not alone.”
When touch disappears, self-worth collapses.
And the hunger grows into strange behaviors.
---
2. HOW DID INDIANS LOSE TOUCH?
a. Overcrowding without closeness
We live near people — not with people.
Shared walls, but not shared hearts.
b. Over-sexualization and shame
Touch is either seen as dirty, sexual, or risky.
Even parents hesitate to hug their children freely after a certain age.
c. Cultural fear
Men fear accusations. Women fear misinterpretation.
So, everyone walks with elbows tight and hearts tighter.
d. Digital screens as skin replacements
People swipe, scroll, click.
But they don’t touch real hands, cheeks, feet, or foreheads.
e. Sanitized parenting
Modern Indian parents often outsource touch —
to maids, therapists, or gadgets.
Even breastfeeding is interrupted by schedules and shame.
f. Elder isolation
Old people no longer live in the same bed, room, or house.
Their hands are folded in photos, but never held.
---
3. WHAT ARE THE EFFECTS?
When healthy human touch disappears:
Children become anxious, clingy, hyper or aggressive
Teens develop sexual confusion or addictions
Adults become irritable, emotionally cold, or needy
Marriages turn into polite negotiations
Friends drift into superficial memes and “take care” messages
Elders die without being held
At a deeper level, this leads to:
Skin hunger (a real term in psychology)
Reduced immunity
Hormonal imbalances
Loneliness even in relationships
Addiction to virtual intimacy (porn, sexting, filters)
Loss of community, joy, and spontaneous affection
---
4. WHERE IS TOUCH STILL ALIVE?
In very few places:
Grandparents in rural homes
Lovers in secret corners
Dogs who refuse to live without you
Poor tribal communities dancing together
Monks greeting with forehead touches
Infants who haven’t learned shame
But for most — especially in educated homes —
Touch is gone.
Replaced by:
Gifts
“Good job beta”
Screens
Or silence.
---
5. HOW TO BRING BACK THE LOST TOUCH?
a. Hug often, without agenda
Family, friends, children, elders — surprise them with warm embraces.
b. Massage with love
Feet, back, head, hands — rediscover this ancient Indian act of healing and bonding.
c. Stop seeing all touch through the lens of sex or danger
Most touch is healing, not harmful. Learn to read intention.
d. Sit closer. Sleep closer.
Even the floor feels warmer when you lie together.
e. Teach children through affection, not fear
A child whose body is accepted will never disrespect another’s.
f. Be physically available to the elders
Let their fading hands hold something that reminds them they lived fully.
---
CONCLUSION
India is not dying from hunger of the stomach.
But from hunger of the skin, heart, and connection.
Touch was once our greatest wealth.
It was how our mothers healed fever, how fathers passed strength, how friends held sorrow.
To bring it back, we must touch first.
Not to heal others — but because we too are broken.
And this is how we become whole.
—
---
HEALING DIALOGUE
“THE SKIN FORGOT HOW TO FEEL”
A family visits Madhukar the Hermit to understand why they feel so disconnected, even while living together.
---
Father (Ramesh):
We live in the same house.
We eat together.
We do everything “right.”
But somehow… it feels like nobody knows each other.
It’s like we’re invisible in plain sight.
Madhukar:
When was the last time you hugged your son without a reason?
Ramesh:
Hugged?
Well, he’s 15 now. Boys don’t really like that.
Son (Vihaan):
You never tried.
So how do you know?
Madhukar:
Hmm.
And you, Ramesh — when did your father last touch your head?
Ramesh:
It’s been years.
He lives with us… but we mostly talk when there’s a bank form or doctor visit.
Grandfather:
He stopped coming near me when he became “busy.”
I stopped asking when I became “old.”
Madhukar:
You see?
Touch didn’t die in the world.
It died in your family.
It died in moments where touch was replaced by “task.”
Where intimacy was replaced by “instruction.”
Where presence was replaced by “performance.”
---
Mother (Shanthi):
But it’s not easy.
We are all running… work, school, deadlines…
And also… there’s this unspoken awkwardness.
Madhukar:
That awkwardness is shame.
It was planted when you were young.
Told that your body is dirty.
That affection is weakness.
That physical closeness is “uneducated.”
Now even your palms feel unemployed.
---
Daughter (Meera, 12):
I like when amma oil-massages me…
But now she says “you’re grown up.”
Shanthi (teary-eyed):
I thought you might feel uncomfortable…
Meera:
No, Amma.
I feel invisible.
---
Madhukar:
There.
You see?
Love unexpressed is not love.
It’s a secret.
And secrets are heavy.
You don’t need new communication skills.
You need to bring your hands back into the family.
Touch feet, touch foreheads, touch cheeks, touch shoulders.
Do it slowly. Gently. Truthfully.
This land was not built with Wi-Fi.
It was built with touch —
on backs of buffaloes, on laps of grandmothers, in circles of firewood warmth.
---
Ramesh:
But won’t it feel artificial now?
Madhukar:
Yes. At first.
Because your skin has forgotten how to feel.
But keep doing it.
And it will remember.
Because underneath all the ego and discomfort,
there is one universal hunger:
to be held.
—
---
CHARLES BUKOWSKI-STYLE POEM
“A COUNTRY WITHOUT HANDS”
they built skyscrapers
but forgot how to hold
their child’s fingers.
they typed
and swiped
and clicked —
but couldn’t press
a palm against a fevered forehead.
they said
“I love you”
in messages
but couldn’t say it
through a hug that lasted
longer than two seconds.
even love
needed “consent forms”
and grandmothers
became statues
on plastic chairs
no one sat beside.
mothers stopped
rubbing coconut oil
on scalps
because daughters got “modern.”
fathers folded hands
in selfies
but never opened them
to bless.
marriages
became partnerships.
friendships
became memes.
grief
became silence.
and children
became “fine.”
everyone was “fine.”
until their skin
forgot how to breathe.
until their bones
ached for a touch
not sold in spas.
until someone said:
“I feel lonely.”
and the house echoed:
me too.
—
