Strong.

In a society where the definition of ‘Strong’ is being morphed , it’s necessary to keep in mind what it really is.

Is it really important to try to ‘just forget it’ in a matter of few days, or to ‘stop being a drama queen’ just because it’s a month from whatever has messed you up?? 

You cannot overcome it, unless you go through it. Even if you Google ‘meaning of overcome’ the first three would be

  1.  succeed in dealing with
  2. defeat
  3. overpower or overwhelm

So blindfolding ourselves against our own feelings, acting as though they don’t exist, represses them deeper into us, that just deepens the cut. 

Go through it. You’ll grow through it.

Be Strong. 

🙂

Same Pinch!

Photo by: Tanja Heffner

You have felt that too, didn’t you? 

That lump-kind feeling inside of the chest. As if some of the edgy, hard feelings gathered up and formed this and now sits heavy on your heart. 

Sometimes this is because some past particle demands your attention, some of the little moments keep ringing at your door: how you were happy at that time.. for a while you can’t even remember why did you give up on things and people that made you happy.. for a while.. sor some, this while can be become longer too..

But after all this wondering, pulling and pushing yourself in guilt and grief and unknown-feelings, stands the realization: Why you even began this journey – without all that? Because those happy little things came shorter than the aches and apathy attached to them. That you have certainly gone further for them, a little more further than you actually go, but then the results did not make you happier!
The realization that we are spiritual beings who need growth all through the life, correlates with the fact that anything or anyone that stops it, hampers it, is better to be let gone.

So same pinch to those who have been feeling like this lately, or have, recently. You are not alone. Let us realize that we have been through hard times, and we have had our share of pleasure and pain (in the ass) and now, but it is time to pat on your own shoulder now . 

You’ve done great. Keep your head high. You are doing great! ❤

Poem From Her Last Night

 

“At the very
bottom of your pocket :
After the coins and the notes in your wallet,
Copies of license, keys- of your
Room and your carriage,
A leaking pen, an unwashed hanky, ..
And, lastly,
Among the crushed, torn bus-tickets,
Somehow, I’ll slip in like a
Piece of sunshine.
Like the entrance of
The Narnia, you’ll always
Find me, on a complete-drenched-night,
on a woke-up-with-fever-morning,
When you least expect it.”

11 days after the funeral: after gathering all the strength to go back to work, while arranging her purse, an old bill falls out.
‘Mum’s birthday.’..
“she kissed this one one too”, a smile grows inside. She has gifted a new shade of lipstick to her mother every year on her birthday and after they would finish their meal, she would always try that on.  “why would she test it on the bills though?? That is so…” She giggles, “.. so her!”  A smile tints her lips.
As she felt the lump in her chest lighten up by a great deal, the last poem of her mother strikes her mind… The lines meant clearer now.

Way clearer.

The Girl Who Came Back

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It was of that time when we were crossing the teenage era.  We used to gossip on those who tried killing themselves,  why would one? May be you did it too. May be we all did when we were young. Then I met her. And then I heard her.

Whenever it’d cross her mind, her gaze would stop at a place. And you can tell by looking at her, how she is so not at that place then.. she is somewhere else, in some other time.. She’d say,

“And that feeling, the aura that surrounds you when you’re about to close your eyes.. and know, it all is coming to an end; very soon, no more struggling, faking, trying, jostling and juggling with emotions, no more fear, no more being ashamed… nothing! You go beyond it all! And s.l.o.w.l.y your eyelids fall, sleep comes crawling to you like your beloved pet.. and you welcome it with open arms! Such peace! Only this knowing – is so beautiful, that none of the struggles would continue. Because by then you have fought so many wars, and failed every single one of them and with each you lost some parts of you and now you either die or surrender to the opponent here. The second option is worse than dying. So you gracefully go with the first.
If there’s anything I regret, then that is this, that I took only 10, I should’ve taken all of them. Such a fool of me! I didn’t want my parents to find out what killed me, I didn’t want them to hospitalize me! I DIDN’T WANNA WAKE UP. EVER AGAIN!

It was a warm summer afternoon, I remember. My brother was going to come from school around 4, so I unlocked the door, kept it open. Hid my personal diary. Then, when I walked to the pills, all my tears have dried. And nothing moved me anymore. No sorrow, no regret, no stain of doubt. At that point you’re determined enough! But it all comes down to the moment I closed my eyes, again.. I’ve never found that much of peace – ever!  ..”

She’d say, “you know why I think it’s said that once someone has attempted suicide they’d try again?..
Because simply they’ve felt the almost. They’ve almost reached that peace. They’ve almost reached the final line. They know how it is to go beyond it all. They’ve half tasted death.’’ She’d pause and smile dimly , “and from personal experience Madhu, it’s so beautiful! I hope you never stand on that ground where you lose the sense of not-doing it, but I wish I could lend you some of that peace…”

“so would you?..” I asked her hesitantly. She looked at me. “Do you think you’ll do it again?”
with a smile she looked out of the window, “Maybe. Maybe not. But IF I should.., then this time all of them. No silly mistake. No more waking up again.” Her voice enough stern for me to realize, she means every word in there.

She would stop and talk again, about that afternoon, and all the previous ones that pushed her to this. Her voice turned dim, as if powerless, and heavy with disappointments, when all the abuse that let her feel terrible about herself, all the personal discords that made her feel cold and left alone and with all the negligence she had suffered that long come in the story.
… and I’d find out how, people are not escaping when they decide to die. They just can’t look eye to eye at their own selves being that weak! They want to take control, have the upper hand when it’s about emotions. But the situations, people, have been so heavy on them, that they find their strength at their lowest. They can’t find the power to stand up, neither can they stand being such weak. Their self acceptance doesn’t filter this feeling. Hence, Eliminate thy self.

Suicidal attempts are common in teenage. For the people, for the reasons people choose death over life, are stronger than their own esteem, their own courage and self-belief. Hence, these people need others to be more empathetic. Correct yourself if you thought sympathetic, they need empathy. Sympathy is next to mockery for them. They need a shoulder, an ear. Atleast someone who would listen to them, to understand, not to reply. Be there just to be there.

She would giggle “but I woke up!” then the smile disappears, “that is the worst part in it. Failing in that. So you have to surrender now. And you are not ready. You were never ready! That is why you chose to stop what is the only thing you can truly call yours – your heartbeat!” There is a pause. Then she would take a deep breath and some how you know she is back in here, “it takes time to deal with that fail. Many attempt soon again. Maybe I would’ve too. But something told me I had more war to go to, may be fail in all but I’m not going to be retired anytime soon.” And there is a helpless, yet graceful smile on her face.

That gives me hope. Even this much of zeal would work like a spark for a fire to build up for her. I wish, she always finds her strength, may be even at the odd most corner of her self, but may she find it always. And may no one go through what she has gone through. Her reasons, her pain, agony, anguish, friendlessness – may none of it touche anyone! But even if they do, I hope they find another shoulder, another soul, empathy.

To those who have not been to that side of life, if any of your friends are not well, mentally, emotionally, try being there for them, rather than just a “don’t give a damn about it, cheer up” line, be there present for them, physically and emotionally. A hug, a small talk, sometimes a night long conversation, some times just a checking up on people who are not doing well changes a lot for them.
So to those who are not thinking about dying, let others not slip into that thought also!

 

The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that each year approximately one million people die from suicide, and more who attempt it.

According to W.H.O:

  • In Europe, particularly Eastern Europe, the highest suicide rates are reported for both men and women.
  • The Eastern Mediterranean Region and Central Asia republics have the lowest suicide rates.
  • Nearly 30% of all suicides worldwide occur in India and China.
  • Suicides globally by age are as follows: 55% are aged between 15 to 44 years and 45% are aged 45 years and over.
  • Youth suicide is increasing at the greatest rate.

No, learn to fake now!

There is a moment when you’re 13 and then boom! suddenly you’re 23. When adulthood is pressing onto you, and you look back at how your life was 10 years back (that feels like yesterday) and you stand shocked for a while seeing how long from there you’ve come.. and

  • unemployment
  • a sudden break up
  • lack of quality friends
  • fatigue
  • expectations of the family building up on you…

    and other things make sure that adulthood becomes unbreathable for you. So how do you escape this game you’re least interested to play?

    You don’t escape; You fake it till you become it: the one who can face it all, have courage to go through it all and then be able to manage it all.

    ofcourse you’ll be scared or anxious or irritated in the first place. But if you think that you will fake it till you make it (i.e, just get a job or forget about a heartbreak) it wouldn’t change your mental mechanisms to manage things that are similar, in the future. So fake it, till you become it, till you know how to manage the anxiety , the stress of unemployment so if ever you don’t have a job at hand, you’re not giving in to relatives’ stupid questions and queries in self doubt. So, when after a break up you still want to text that guy back but know he’s toxic for you, fake it to yourself that he’s not anymore important, keep saying, convincing this to yourself till it becomes reality . 

    And when you finally reach there, you are at such abundance of confidence and positivity within that it feels worth all that struggle initially you have to put up with in the beginning.

    So don’t stop just when you make it, become it.

    Watch Amy Cuddy talking about it (probably better than me 😅 kidding she elaborates it better)

    #1 by the blue window

    and he stopped by a blue window.. the breeze in hot summer morning was bliss. Tired, sweating after the long walk, he sat down by the window. Five long years has passed and he has returned to the same place again where she walked out that night. As his heavy breathing found normal pace, memories came crawling back.. The breeze kept reminding him it all are only a memory now. ironically this is the same day once they’ve met… ‘memories… too much of memories’ he thought to himself..                                     then as if whispering to her ears.. in such softness he murmured

    “happy anniversary love”…

    What are your words?

    What are your words made of? Are they everything nice and sweet? Or you spice things up according to the need of the moment ?

    The simple notion that you like somebody, can be expressed in variety of forms: “ such a good person you are” , “you are a real good soul” , “I am happy I met you” , “I’m happy you are my friend” and so on. But we choose our words in the moment. With this, our expressions and communication with others, not just mould the relationship, but also, the person next to us. How?

    When a kid falls down while playing and his teacher scolds saying “can’t you be more cautious?” rather than coming close and seeing if he’s okay, stating that it’s normal, that everybody falls down now and then, makes a difference. If someone is busy getting ready for the office and her maid hurts her thumb while cleaning and she thinks if she’s blind or where the hell her mind is when she is working;  versus, when she asks, if she’s alright and gives an ice cube or few bucks to treat that, makes a difference.

    This fact is empowering and sad at the same time that these very words of ours are responsible for the making of our next generations. Are we using ‘fool’ or ‘stupid’ for a boy who’s bad at maths or using ‘not as good as in language’ ? we can say “please be here soon I need you” instead of “who gives a damn what you’re upto! I said come at once!”

    Through different kinds of relations and different stages of them, our way of talking changes. But what should remain the same, is the edgy-ness of them. We are throwing our words at others, no matter who ever that might be, our sons, maids, students or lovers. So consider one thing always that you blunt the edges first, so that they don’t hurt. I’ve come across ideas, that you’re close ones understand you, thus, will understand even your harshest words and what you actually want to mean. Partially true that is, but also, the close ones we have, are merely humans. Not all of us has PMS, but we all go through phases of life. May be you shouted at me because your maid didn’t clean the dog poop yesterday, and I was upset ‘cause my favorite towel flew off from my balcony. So I won’t be able to take your shouting well, and you’d think later ‘what the f is wrong with this woman?! It wasn’t a big deal!”

    But you see, that is the big deal, when we turn our filters off: Filters of words. Yeah I understand the dog-poop-problem, but shouting on me won’t get that poop outta your house!
    When we talk, we are expressing: our anger, happiness, joy, sorrow, grief and also, the numbness. We express, not just to release it all, but also to be accepted as we are with that. If it was just about the release of the feelings, we wouldn’t give a damn what the other reacted after listening to that. But we do. Because, the acceptance after that matters.

    Trust me it’s not as hard as completing new year resolutions: turning the word filter on. (I always try). And it feels good, really good. When you know you didn’t say “Why is it so hard for you to understand that I’m not hungry maa?” ; instead, said “I’ll eat the moment I feel hungry maa, pakka” and your mum dosen’t look hurt (may be she just makes a face)
    So if anyone’s wondering, was I talking about being sweet? Think about it: You’re going to school and you see a guy falling off from his bicycle. You go help him get up and say “where the hell were you staring at?” vs. “try not falling off like this more dude”/ “can you ride, or need help?”
    Now, If you were the one who fell down, which words would you prefer listening? Would the 2nd one be ‘talking sweet’? or that will feel like a good human being?

     

    Our words make us. They break us too. Filtering them doesn’t change your ‘you’ness. It rather enhances it, lights you up a little more, lifts you up a little more – in your and people’s  worlds too.
    Try out!