BETTER CONNECTIONS

Life is all about the connections you make. Today, making these connections is facilitated by the countless modes of communication and social networks in place. But, maintaining daily contact can be engulfing and overstimulating at times. While most people my age enjoy Facetiming their friends for hours on end and keeping Snapchat streaks for hundreds of days, I have always found myself struggling to compete with the nonstop connectedness that drowns out the time I have with those right in front of me.

During the past few months, I have learned about the effort it takes to preserve the relationships we work so hard to build. With the ability to message and call a friend, it becomes increasingly difficult to see the importance of something we all seek — real, innocent connection.

Over forty years ago, in the small coastal town of Manipal, India, a young girl would wait for the mailman to deliver a letter all the way from Synecdoche, New York. Contained in a folded piece of paper were stories of a world she could only imagine. From her life of pooja ceremonies and salwar kameezes and idlis, she learned about Bar Mitzvah ceremonies and blue jeans and macaroni and cheese. Similarly, he learned about the place he was born in and pictured the muggy summers of a college town where his father attended school not too long ago.

It went on like this for a while. Months of writing turned into years and conversations about school games turned into ones about families and careers. Nonetheless, what remained constant was the simplicity of it. Neither aimed to get something from the other except friendship and knowledge.

Twenty years later, when the girl was married and the boy had delved into further studies, communication had become quicker, and the idea of having a pen pal began drifting into oblivion. Much harder than today, staying in touch meant time and effort that is near impossible to find between raising children or traveling for Doctors Without Borders. So, naturally, the two lost contact.

The gap between their generation and mine is the understanding of what interconnectedness means. To them, the benefits of the internet were maintaining contact with old friends. To me, it was also a means of making entirely new ones. Innocence between these generations, however, has slowly crumbled as if the yellowing pages of forgotten letters. The internet is instant communication with people all over the globe. It reserves no time to assess a person’s intentions or scruples. Rather than connecting with a human being — flesh, blood, and feelings– we now connect with a profile picture and a one-sentence bio summarizing our entire character.

It is rare these days to find an entire benevolence in our relationships. Rushing to make friends in a city before I even move there, finding genuine connections can feel like a competition. You have to make them like you first. You have to think about your response before they even finish speaking. You have to show them your interest without seeming too eager. Essentially, you have to get a friend before being one. I think we need better connections.

Luckily, to teach me the value of a true bond, I had the lesson of two pen pals writing for twenty years. When I found an old box filled with letters on the highest shelf of an unopened cabinet, I began using what I knew about connections today to help my mom connect to her yesterday. It did not take long in an era of quick fingers and social media stalking to find her long lost buddy. Now living in Manhattan, and traveling the world, I questioned whether the now grown man would remember his childhood pal. Turns out he did.

Years later, in a dimly lit Indian restaurant in New York City, I watched my mom wait eagerly by the door scanning the face of every stranger that walked inside. Although they had never met in person, the minute she saw Marc she recognized his blue eyes and warm smile.

They say the best of friends can go years without seeing one another and pick up right where they left off. I will never know how it would feel to spend forever apart. Funny enough, the two continued the conversation started in ink, and translated it into words. Stories about her days immigrating to the US and his in medical school filled the air for hours. There seemed to be some missing chapters of their story to fill in.

My mother and her pen pal Marc are my models of better connections. Their connection goes to show how we are molded by the people in our lives, even years down the road and nations apart. It is not about fitting into someone else’s story, it is about reading it and using it to enhance your own. As I split apart from some of my closest friends, I am grateful for the ability to communicate with them using the click of a button. I can pick up the phone or send a text, something my mom and Marc could not do. I look forward to hearing about the new friends they make, or to receiving pictures of their dorms, or texts about how they turned all their white sheets pink. — and I am excited to share my stories too. Connections should be exciting, even when they are mundane. These are the best kinds; where life becomes more beautiful simply because we have someone to share it with.

Happy Living

“Human connections are nurtured deeply in the field of shared story” -Jean Houston