The idea of six degrees of separation is enchanting. This thought suggests any two people in the world are connected through just six acquaintances. It suggests that the world may feel vast. Still, we’re only a few handshakes away from one another. Yet, within this comforting notion lies a quiet question: what about the people closest to us? Do we truly know them, and do they truly know us?

As an Indian gay man, now nearing my forties, this question feels deeply personal. Life, for me, has been a delicate balancing act – trying to bridge the gap between the person the world expects me to be and the person I truly am. Growing up, I wore the masks that society handed me: the dutiful son, the dependable friend, the cheerful colleague. But behind those masks, there was another world, one I guarded closely – a world of vulnerability, of unspoken truths, of longing to be seen for who I really am.

It’s a strange irony, isn’t it? The people who claim to know us best often remain strangers to the depths of our being. They see the outlines of our lives but miss the intricate patterns within. There have been moments when someone dear to me said, “You mean the world to me,” and yet their gaze seemed to stop just short of understanding. Their words carried love, but their silences carried something else – a hesitation, a fear, perhaps even a quiet judgment.

And then there are the strangers. A fleeting conversation in a coffee shop. A shared smile on a train ride. A moment of connection so profound that it feels like they’ve glimpsed your soul. How is it that someone who knows nothing about you can sometimes see you more clearly than those who’ve known you for years?

Maybe that’s the paradox of human relationships. We’re all, to some extent, strangers – not just to others, but even to ourselves. We hide parts of who we are, not always out of fear but sometimes simply because the world doesn’t feel ready to embrace our truths. Or maybe we’re the ones who aren’t ready.

But here’s what I’ve learned: being a stranger doesn’t have to feel lonely. It can also be a journey of discovery. Perhaps life isn’t just about connecting with others; it’s also about reconnecting with ourselves. And when we do, we start to see that the strangeness, the differences, the parts of us we once hid—these are what make us unique, beautiful, and human.

We may never fully know the people in our lives, and they may never fully know us. But that’s okay. What matters is the effort – the willingness to try, to reach out, to listen, to share. Every handshake, every conversation, and every shared moment is a step closer, not to perfection but to understanding.

In this vast, interconnected world, perhaps it’s our strangeness that binds us together. Because at the end of the day, all of us are strangers. And maybe that’s what makes our attempts to know and love each other so achingly beautiful.