Spice of Life: Mayday in everyday life, learn to hear the unheard
Life, much like that afternoon flight, is incredibly fragile. In a world that’s louder and more distracting than ever, one of the most profound acts of love we can offer is simply to notice.
We often picture a Mayday as a desperate cry from a plane in trouble — a pilot’s voice strained with fear, broadcasting an urgent distress signal. It’s a dramatic, life-or-death scenario. But the truth is, we’re surrounded by Mayday calls every single day. They don’t come from aircraft in crisis, but from the people right beside us: Our family, friends, and neighbours.
These modern Mayday calls aren’t crackling over radios; they’re whispered in silence, hidden behind forced smiles, and buried under casual I’m fine responses. Take a moment to look around. Think of the friend who’s suddenly absent from group chats, always cancelling plans, and claiming he’s just tired. Consider the parents who navigate their day with a mechanical smile, shouldering unseen burdens, desperately hoping no one notices they’re barely holding on. Or the neighbour who once waved and chatted over the fence, now rushing inside without a glance.
These are the subtle, silent distress signals of our time, and they’re tragically easy to miss. Unlike a plane in trouble, these cries often go unanswered. Not because we don’t care, but because we’ve forgotten how to truly see. We’ve become accustomed to looking past discomfort, keeping conversations superficial, and respecting space that might actually be a desperate plea for connection.
But here’s a crucial truth: Life, much like that afternoon flight, is incredibly fragile. In a world that’s louder and more distracting than ever, one of the most profound acts of love we can offer is simply to notice.
In aviation, a Mayday call triggers an immediate, all-hands-on-deck response. Air traffic clears, help is despatched, and everything else becomes secondary. That’s how much one life matters. Why should it be any different for us, down here?
If we treated human emotional distress with even half that urgency, imagine how many lives we could save — not just from death, but from the crushing weight of despair, loneliness, and the slow erosion of spirit.
Being there for someone doesn’t always mean having all the answers. Sometimes, it means simply sitting with them in silence, reminding them they’re not alone. It means reaching out even when it feels awkward. It means refusing to assume someone else will step in. Because, all too often, no one does.
We tend to wait for people to ask for help, forgetting that the very pain they’re experiencing might be robbing them of the ability to reach out. We miss the faint signals because they don’t come with flashing lights or blaring sirens. But they are there — in missed calls, uncharacteristic quietness, sudden shifts in behaviour, or even an overly cheerful demeanour that feels unnatural.
So, what can we do? We can be the one who truly sees. The one who doesn’t just scroll past a cryptic social media post. The one who sends that text, even if there’s no immediate reply. The one who genuinely asks, “Hey, you’ve been on my mind lately. How are you really?” The one who shows up with a coffee or a kind word. The one who creates a safe space when someone finally breaks down.
Listen with an open heart. The world often tells us to mind our own business, to stay in our own lane. But our hearts know better. They understand that behind every brave face, there might be a raging storm; behind every quiet soul, a silent cry. And perhaps, you’re meant to be the one who hears it. Let’s not wait for a tragedy to remind us of what truly matters. Let’s choose genuine presence over superficial performance, heartfelt care over mere convenience, and deep compassion over rigid correctness.
Saving a life doesn’t require a dramatic rescue, a runway, or a team of specialists. Sometimes, it just takes a simple message, a knowing look or a comforting hand on the shoulder. praveen46535@gmail.com
The writer is a Patiala-based freelance contributor
