It’s like the calm after the storm. It was 10 weeks from his diagnosis to passing away – even before the implications of such a diagnosis had sunk in. It is 10 weeks now since he passed. I wake up in the morning and the first thought is ‘he is gone’, the first feeling is sadness, the first thing to do is lie in bed for a little bit longer. Even after all this time and ceremonies and crying, there is a part of me that is in a state of disbelief! I have not received any texts or e-mails from him and still it feels unreal. That could be because it is true. At some level I know that the spirit can never be extinguished. The ‘Bhagwad Geeta’, one of the most extraordinary scriptures on the philosophy of life says that the body is just a garment that the soul puts on. The soul has no birth or death.

When i sit with my eyes closed, I can feel his beautiful energy – sweetly trying to encourage me to move from PC to Apple, to go to the gym regularly, to eat well and rest well. When I open my eyes I can feel his presence. He is my guardian angel. The desire to have him with me physically is the cause of my misery. I need to give up that desire and expand my consciousness and know that he exists.

The visits to the gym are leaving various parts of my body in varying degrees of soreness. But I am diligently going every other day. The only way forward is to work through the pain.

The Prince of Wales has said that the west has been ‘de-souled’ by consumerism. The financial and environmental crises are the outward consequences of a deep inner crisis of the soul. In this world of limited resources, we look for continuous ‘growth’ measured by our desire and ability to consume! We abuse the generosity of Mother Nature and Mother Earth in so many ways. Is it any wonder then that depression is an illness of the affluent societies and is on the rise?  Christmas is a perfect reminder of this fact. The world population is expected to exceed 9 million in less than 4 decades. Unless we learn to honour ourselves and this planet, how are we going to share our resources and live peacefully?

The Sailing Ship 

– Bishop Charles Henry Brent (1862-1929)

‘What is dying?
I am standing on the seashore.
A ship sails to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean.
She is an object and I stand watching her
Till at last she fades from the horizon,
And someone at my side says, “She is gone!” Gone where?
Gone from my sight, that is all;
She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her,
And just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination.
The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her;
And just at the moment when someone at my side says, “She is gone”,
There are others who are watching her coming,
And other voices take up a glad shout,
“There she comes” – and that is dying.’

Sleep in heavenly peace my ‘Jaan’.

It’s Christmas eve. Last year on this day, he, his best friend and I set out in the evening for ice-skating only to find out that it did not take place on Christmas eve. So, we landed up in All-Bar-One. It was fun. Very spontaneous, just like him. Everything reminds me of him – chop-sticks, because we always used to compete on who was better at using them, percussion as that was his thing, anything french because he was such a francophile, a good joke because he always made me laugh, any picture of a mother and a child, looking in the mirror because I see glimpses of him, the sun, moon, rain, clouds and the breeze! Everything.

https://soundcloud.com/joe-joey-guppy/saagar-naresh

This is a link to a song written and sung by a dear friend of his, dedicated to his memory. The lyrics might not make much sense as there are a few in-jokes in them but it is great and I love it. Thanks Joe!

Yesterday I heard a phrase which accurately described one of his main attributes: ‘strong consciousness of social obligation’. He really cared. It bothered him that he was unable to do something as basic as partake in a conversation. Even in his farewell note he said – Sorry! He knew.

May peace be upon him and all the world!

One of my colleagues came home to extend his condolences a couple of weeks after Day 0. His son is 18 years of age and for the last 2 years he has not really spoken with anyone. He has no friends. He comes home from school, goes straight to his room and plays video games for hours, sometimes up to 12 hours! He refuses to see a psychiatrist. Interestingly, his mother does not want a diagnosis as she feels that the ‘label’ will drive the son to end his life. Notably, the father is a doctor and the mother is a nurse. This is how bad the stigma is, even within the medical profession.

Today I watched Margaret Trudeau being interviewed about her struggle with Bipolar disorder.  [ https://bipolardyke.wordpress.com/bipolar-film-music/ ]
She is a canadian author, actress and photographer who is now in her 60s and has spent most of her life dealing with this illness. She says, the first thing to do is to accept that there is an illness, secondly, appoint an advocate, as the person in question is not of sound mind and most importantly, talk about it. The more we talk about it the better the understanding.

A lot of children suffer terribly from mental illness but their families keep quiet about it. This problem is very common. There needs to be an overhaul of the system and more help given to the relatives.

I know there is enough compassion in the world for us to feel free to talk about it. Let’s do it.

Looking through my picture gallery, this one seemed to match my inner landscape closely. Often there are no words. The ones that are there are just not good enough. What is left to say? What is the point anyway? It is just what it is. At this point I feel strangely free. I have no fear of loosing anything anymore. Nothing seems to matter. A few months ago, I felt strongly about visiting Machu Pichu in the near future but now it doesn’t matter at all. The job, the weather, money, clothes…….nothing is important. All that matters are people, far and near, who form the fabric of our lives and help us cope. They matter.

“An incalculable number of light years from the warmth of the sun. When the rain falls, it falls in droplets of grief, and when the light shines, it is in waves and particles of grief. From whatever direction the wind blows–south, east, north or west– it blows cinders of grief before it. Grief stings your eyes and sucks the breath from your lungs. No oxygen on this planet, no nitrogen; the atmosphere is composed entirely of grief.” [By the Time You Read This, by Giles Blunt]