Hugs are special. Nothing conveys affection better than a warm embrace. It is an exchange of energy between two bodies and souls. A hug speaks a million words. It is the universal language of love. It heals hearts. It brings joy to the giver and the receiver. And yet, some people are incapable of sharing a hug. They don’t know how to give, nor receive an embrace. I am one of them.
I am illiterate when it comes to the language of love. Expressing emotions non verbally is beyond my bounds. I can write volumes describing my feelings for someone or something, but wrapping my arms around the person and conveying the unsaid is an impossible feat. I feel the most awkward when I have to reciprocate a hug. I believe, every human has a unique way of hugging and that it is essential to understand this nuance to be able to respond in an equivalent way. Trying to imitate someone’s way of hugging only makes it a mockery. It removes the warmth and genuineness from the response. The few times that I have tried to return an embrace, I have ended up grazing the person’s posterior, in all its awkwardness. Some people make it complex and confusing by giving side hugs, when you have been preparing yourself to be crushed from the front. I feel, it is better to clarify the modus operandi before venturing into the act, than springing it as a surprise on the other party. A one page instruction manual may be of help, but hugs are too quick to allow the time to read and respond.
I wonder how it comes naturally to some, or rather most people. How can one hug without any planning or preparation? How does it flow so spontaneously? especially when the other person is least expecting it. I guess, it is to do with the upbringing and the emotional conditioning that one is subjected to. If an embrace is the language of love spoken at one’s home, be it the mother or father tongue, it becomes second nature. Such personalities end up being serial huggers. I presume, they are always walking around with outstretched arms. But, for those who haven’t been part of the hugging club or who have been raised in a family of tight lipped, morose individuals, hugs are unheard of. Even laughter is a rarity in such households. I was raised in one.
Ours was a silent family. We exchanged more words with the walls than among ourselves. Our non verbal cues comprised of glares, raised eye brows and silent nods. The only moments when touch was part of the non verbal equation, was when my parents spanked me. This is the language I am familiar with. The language of silence, interspersed with acts of hurt. I know that explicit displays of affection exist, but they are foreign enough to be considered a medium of emotional exchange or a source of enrichment. I had seen hugs only in movies, during my formative years. When I became an eye witness to this expression of love, for the first time, as an adult, I remember feeling quite uneasy about it. I fled the scene, wary of becoming the next victim. A lifetime of not receiving a hug had earned it the status of sour grapes.
My corporate circle and professional network have made hugs an unavoidable and ubiquitous entity. I could not afford to run away, when the head of my business unit gave me a formal embrace. I was glad though, that it lasted only a few seconds, by when I tried some hand movements, in an attempt to reciprocate the gesture. I was clumsy and often comical, at it. But, corporate citizens hardly cared. It was a fleeting formality in the world of enterprising executives. No one gave it much thought. Hugging someone was like changing gears in a car. Almost involuntary and unemotional. I have got accustomed to this ritual, that involves only bodies, in part and has no connection to the souls. It is just another handshake conveyed through the arms and shoulders, instead of the palms.
It is the deeper embraces, that touch one’s soul and tug at the heart strings, that I dread the most. They are binding and overwhelming. They take away droplets of energy. The only exception to this, is the cuddle of my little one. Pure, intense and heart warming. She needs no rhyme or reason to hug. Sometimes, she just needs to feel warm, while on other occasions, she looks up to me for reassurance and a sense of security. Her unconditional hugs crush the endless if-then-else loops that run in my mind. Being enveloped by her tiny hands and reassured by her soft whispers, feels like resurrection. Hugs are not a daily affair in our household. Nor are other forms of deep emotional expression. But, I make every effort to ensure that, they don’t become long lost memories or worse, sour grapes, in the budding life of my little one.
