imagine this scenario:

a teenager, he is a student, isolated from the world around him. he longs to connect with people, but circumstances have built walls he cannot climb. his school is far away, his family rarely interacts with neighbors, and his parents, being reserved and socially withdrawn, have little connection with society. he is not allowed to leave home without permission, nor to use social media. layer upon layer, these restrictions have shaped his solitude, turning what once felt like temporary boundaries into a permanent way of life.

deep down, he wants friends. he wants to belong. but fear holds him back, fear of choosing the wrong people, of being hurt, of not fitting in. he overthinks every possible interaction until the courage to act fades away. so, despite his longing, he rarely tries. instead, he watches life from the sidelines, silently hoping someone might notice him first.

there is, however, one thing that makes him feel less alone, zubeen garg. he has known zubeen’s voice since childhood, growing up with his songs woven into the background of his days, until that voice became something deeply familiar, almost like the sound of home. to him, zubeen isn’t just a distant celebrity but someone who feels close, his voice feels familiar, comforting, almost like part of his own family. when he listens to those songs, a quiet warmth rises within him, reminding him that he is assamese, part of a culture and a crowd that come alive together in zubeen’s music. watching people sing in unison at concerts makes him feel, even from afar, that he too belongs somewhere. and it isn’t a forced attachment, he genuinely loves the music, its emotion, honesty, and life. in a world where everything else feels cold and unreachable, zubeen garg’s voice is the one familiar sound that still makes him feel at home.

he had once had a girlfriend who seemed like she had stepped right out of his imagination. shy yet confident, cute, tall, caring, honest, loyal, and genuinely in love with him without a trace of resentment or immaturity. she was everything he thought he deserved, yet he rejected himself. how could someone like him, so flawed and insecure, ever be worthy of her? in his mind, she was perfect, and he was far from it. part of him felt blessed to have had her in his life, a glimpse of what happiness could look like, and yet the same thought made him feel unbearably unlucky. he didn’t want to make her life harder or bring his own imperfections into hers, so he quietly stepped back, no messages, no calls, no meets, but it wasn’t a breakup. he told her he would meet her again someday, when he had become the person he believed she deserved. until then, he stepped away from her life, carrying both gratitude and regret. if he becomes better, he might return; if not, he will watch from afar, silently wishing her the best.

physically, he believes himself weak, and to some extent, he’s right. he always wanted to be the kind of person who’s strong, fit, and good at sports, the version of himself he wishes he could become. but every school sports day reminds him how far he is from that image. each time he falls behind, it’s not the loss that hurts most, but the feeling of failing himself. he looks at others and wonders why he can’t be like them, fast, confident, effortless. every time he comes up short, the gap between who he is and who he wants to be feels wider, and that disappointment slowly turns into self-criticism.

no one validates him. he has no one to confide in, no one to truly understand what he feels. during social events, his insecurities rise to the surface. surrounded by others, he feels invisible, as if his presence makes no difference. even laughter and conversation around him seem to happen on a frequency he can’t tune into. in those moments, he doesn’t just feel left out; he feels erased.

he often finds himself questioning his own emotions. Are they real, or just the product of overthinking? is he being foolish, or is this the long-suppressed voice of his inner child, quietly crying for attention after years of being ignored? sometimes he wonders if the pain he feels is even valid, or if he’s imagining it all. he’s trapped in a loop of doubt, because no one has ever truly listened, and he’s never been given a chance to make sense of himself in the eyes of another.

he tells himself he deserves a normal life, as if the one he lives doesn’t count as one. constant worry consumes him: what will his future look like? he knows his current habits aren’t leading him toward his goals, becoming a doctor, earning respect, finding belonging, yet he feels powerless to change them.

he sees his dreams as distant fantasies, not possibilities. that thought terrifies him. he feels unlucky, unlucky to be so isolated, unlucky to have grown up in such circumstances, with these parents, this family, this school. and yet, beneath all that hopelessness, a faint spark remains, a small, stubborn belief that maybe, one day, life could still be different.

in his quiet moments, he isn’t just lonely, he feels forgotten by the world, as though he exists on the edges of everyone else’s story.

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hello everyone, i wanted to share a part of my life with you. i’ve tried my best to express it clearly and honestly. thank you for taking the time to read, i would truly appreciate any thoughts or comments. and if any part of this story feels relatable to you, i’d love for you to share your own story too.

Which part of the story did you connect with the most?

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