since you've been gone

something came in the mail for you today. 

and all of a sudden, i was reminded of you. all over again, like the roof falling down upon me. but not all of a sudden. no, the roof didn’t come crashing down. it closed in on me, inch by inch. i could see it coming down and i couldn’t do a thing to save myself, or to save you. and i watched as it crushed everything one by one- the bookshelf, the couch, the cute little souvenirs kept on the wooden frame mounted up against the wall. it slid down, as if it were a slippery roadside covered in moss and algae just after the rain. it  came down upon my shoulders, like a weight i couldn’t carry. i felt like atlas. i could feel the oxygen in the air getting scarce. i struggled for breath as i tried to find a way out, but you were already lying unconscious on the floor. and there, i started reliving those moments over and over and over again. the moment amma woke me up in the morning with a tear-stained face, telling me you were in the hospital. the moment we were on the plane and amma got up to go to the washroom and came back, sniffing and blowing her nose into a tissue. the moment we landed, and instead of taking a cab to the hospital, we took a cab to ajja and bappamma’s house. the moment i asked her “aanu is still alive, isn’t he?” and she told me “just get in the cab”. i remember every second of that awful day. i remember crying for all of the two hours in the cab. i remember crying and not caring what anybody that might see me thought. i remember preparing myself to see you, swearing to myself that i wouldn’t cry in front of all those people. but what i remember most vividly, the most heartbreaking moment of all- when i finally walked into the apartment. people were everywhere- ones i knew, ones i didn’t know, ones that had known me since i was a child and others whose names i couldn’t even remember. but all of these people knew you. they knew you as a little boy and as a fresh-faced college going young man. some knew you as the talented boy from the school band, others knew you as the hard-working and dedicated man that you were. and they were all here for you. but none of this broke me as much as seeing you there- lying on the floor, clad in all white. you looked almost peaceful- i could’ve thought you were asleep. but you weren’t snoring the way you usually did. and for the first time, i wished you were snoring that loud, sleep-disrupting snore of yours. i thought of all the times i got up and slept in the other room because of your snoring, and then in that moment, i would’ve given up everything in this world to hear you snore once again. you weren’t wearing your glasses. you looked so incomplete without them. you were always so alive aanu, always there. whether you were angry, sad, happy, sleeping, a whole state away from me- you were there. no matter all that. but suddenly, you weren’t. you were just… gone. gone in a flash like those beautiful clouds in the sky that remain in that beautiful pattern for just a second, and by the time you can get to your phone to take a picture, it’s gone. and the sky will never be the same again. my sky will never be the same again. 

i never thought of losing you so early. the thought never crossed my mind. i always figured we’d have a lot of time to spend together. to do all the father-daughter activities we always dreamed of. painting my room, redoing the house. getting a dog, cooking together on sundays. movie nights and you introducing me to new bands. you getting to watch as i got 92% in my boards, and moved here to bangalore like you always wanted me to. and go to this college, just like you’d always dreamed for me. and it’s all gone. it’s all gone now.

a lot of what i am today- a lot of who i am, is all because of you. every morning, i wake up, even when i don’t want to. because, remember that one day, when you woke up at 4 am and tried to wake me up at 6? and i drove you away, and again when you tried to wake me up at 8. every morning, i think “i could’ve spent more time with him if only i’d woken up. if only i had opened my eyes and looked at his face while i still could. spoke to him while he was still breathing. hugged him and told him that i love him.” every morning, i wake up, because you didn’t. 

and now, here i am. you’re gone, and my whole world is just… hanging somewhere in the middle. the burden is too much for my shoulders without you here, and i can barely breathe.

i am here and you are not, and it’s all just too much for me.

Things NOT To Say To A Depressed/Suicidal Person (Trigger Warning)

If you are someone that has never experienced depression or suicidal thoughts, it may be a very foreign concept- something way beyond your comprehension that someone out there is thinking of ending their own life. I understand why you think this way- it is the one basic instinct each of us have instilled in us by default. The survival instinct. Each of our bodies, at this very moment, is doing everything it can to make sure we’re alive and breathing. 

I grew up with a bipolar father who used to get depressed often. I have seen him go from super happy to extremely sad in a matter of hours. As a child of merely 8 years, I never understood what in the world could be so terrible as to upset my father so much.

But, as I grew up, it became clearer to me. So clear, in fact, that I found myself slowly slipping into depression myself. It was like being caught in quicksand. 

And not until recently did I understand the plight of people who tried to take their lives or successfully did so. 

I am proud to say that I have dug my way out of that ditch, but it was not easy. 

And now, as I am recovering, I am quite open about my past problems. I find it is healthier to let people know rather than piling it all up.

You’d be surprised how many people have called me ‘selfish’ and ‘stupid’ for my attempts. 

Let me tell you this: if you have a friend or close one who is suicidal, and you want to help them get better, making them feel guilty about it is not the right approach. 

In fact, it is just about the worst thing you could say to them.

Never say, ‘you are selfish and stupid’. Never say, ‘think about your family, you’ll cause them pain’. Never say, ‘don’t be a coward’. 

No.

I am not stupid. I have weighed out my options. I have gone through this. Me. Not you. You do not get to decide if I’ve had enough or not- I do. This is my decision, my life. 

This is not a sudden, momentary decision that I have taken. This is not something that cropped up into my thoughts while I was dreaming last night. NO. 

I feel helpless. My behavior isn’t reasonable, but neither is depression. Even today, I don’t think I can come anywhere close to explaining how miserable I felt when I was depressed. 

The depression, paired with the anxiety, made me feel useless, helpless. My anxiety kept telling me I was worthless and my depression made me believe there was nothing I could do about it. Yes, it was all in my head. But every time someone told me I was being selfish or stupid or not thinking about my family, it made my feelings even stronger. I felt guilty, guilty about being self centered and cowardly- not the traits of a good human being. I was convinced I was a terribly worthless, good-for-nothing person who was too selfish and too much of a coward to live in this world surrounded by such beautiful things and amazing people.

And that is the problem with depression- it makes you believe that everything in this world is a flawless masterpiece and you’re a crooked mess of mishaps and inconveniences. 

I thought it would be easier to run away from my problems rather than facing them. I was a coward, yes. But I do not need to hear that.

I needed someone to tell me that it will all be fine. That everything would settle down while I could learn to be myself again. That I was worth the so-called inconveniences I caused, that I was a good enough person to be here. 

And that is what every depressed and suicidal person needs to hear. We do not need someone to tell us we’re stupid or that our families will suffer- these are things we already know. These are the things eating us up, driving us to the edge of the balcony and towards the sharp razors.

No, we need you to tell us what our depression has forced us to forget. 

We need someone to tell us that we, like everybody else, are human after all and make mistakes, no matter how often. 

We need someone to tell us that it’s okay to love ourselves, no matter how flawed. 

a letter to her love

they share secrets

as often as they share clothes

the whole world knows them as best friends

but she wants something more.

she has her telephone number memorized

just like her smile

and her favorite songs and shades of lipstick

and the color of her eyes.

these little things that others miss

are etched into her heart

currently on the top of her list of beautiful things

just waiting to pour apart.

and her laugh, oh her laugh

is as though drinking water after months of drought

she’s infinitely gorgeous and quirky

she really is something, it’s no doubt.

what a pity to not be able to come out with the truth

for her mind knows she doesn’t swing that way

and decided to set herself straight once

but her heart, a rebel like herself, led her astray.

and it breaks her a little everyday

that she is somehow worth enough

to be so heart achingly close
yet so far away from love.