On a very turbulent flight to India a few years ago, I sat next to him absolutely petrified, tightly clutching on to his hands for dear life. He just sat there fully present to my fear and me, telling me it will pass. I recall that particular air journey to be the worst one ever. I must have held on to his hands for at least a couple of hours. He stayed calm. He knew that was just me. He often made jokes about it.

The ‘seat-belt on’ sign was switched on again on the flight this morning as we hit bad weather. My first instinct was to look for his hands but then I decided to sit with my eyes closed and take long deep breaths. I could almost hear him say, “Don’t worry Mamma. It will soon be ok.”

Will it really? Today is exactly 3 months since he passed away. It is still so fresh in my memory, so painful and traumatic, so full of questions and regrets, his suffering and mine, the shock, panic, horror of it. The suddenness of it! How utterly devastated and helpless I felt then and how it is not much different now.

God, please give me the strength to do everything I can to prevent similar pain befalling anyone else. There is a tiny part of me that just wants to give up but please don’t let it win.

Today is ‘Makar Sankranti’ – the winter harvest festival. In Varanasi it is traditionally celebrated by taking a soak in the river Ganges, flying kites, making donations to the poor and cooking a particular type of dish called ‘khichdi’ for lunch. An integral part of the celebrations for a lot of people is a glass of cannabis enriched sweet milk in the morning. In this city cannabis use is legal and shops selling the drinks can be found on the roadside like any other shops selling clothes, shoes or bottled water.

As I walked down the street this morning distributing packets of biscuits to the street kids, I saw this light in their eyes – a sharpness that comes from the will to live, the instinct to survive despite all odds stacked up against them. The contrast just hit me in the face – these kids had nothing yet they wanted to live at any cost. In comparison, young people in other parts of the world have a lot more and yet, so often don’t find life worth living.

How does that come about?

It was a cold and foggy day of fasting, meditating, sitting on a stone floor on a straw mat for four and a half hours performing some intricate and fascinating rituals accompanied by the rhythmic chanting of 5 brahmin priests and repeating my son’s name seemingly a thousand times. All the familiar ingredients were there – fire, water, flowers, milk, honey, sandalwood, vermillion powder, tulsi leaves, mango leaves, coconuts, plenty of clay pots, yogurt, fruits, coins and notes, rice, sugar and ghee.

The aim of the prayers was to direct and empower his soul to transcend into the realm of the Gods – Brahma, Vishnu, Siva and Yama. Once that was accomplished I was glad to hear that he now belongs in the ‘higher beings’ category and I could ask him for whatever I like without shedding any tears. That made me smile my special smile for him.

My body feels like it has aged a hundred years over the past few months yet my mind feels lighter today. My breath is slow and joyful. I can see the beginnings of acceptance. I can now utter his name without breaking down inside. I’ve even noticed that every now and then I have a spell of a few minutes when I don’t think of him.

Put your thoughts to sleep,
let them not cast a shadow
over the moon of your heart.
Drown them in the sea of love.

– Rumi.

Back in Varanasi for the last of the last rites.

There are 2 reasons why this prayer is being done. First one is to ask for forgiveness on my son’s behalf for having made the mistake of ending his own life. Secondly, to clean the impressions of sadness and dejection from the mind and memory of his soul. It is believed that we often wake up from sleep thinking of the same things that were on our mind when we fell asleep. The prayers tomorrow will be made to Lord Shiva, who is the Lord of the Living and the Dead. The Hindu belief is that He will refresh his spirit and enable my son’s soul to achieve ‘Moksha’ – the freedom from the cycle of birth and death. This is what the saints and wise men spend their lives trying to achieve.

I feel grateful to be here, once again at the seat of profound knowledge and in close proximity to the pious Mother Ganges. This is the best I can do for him and for myself now. It is another opportunity to reaffirm my faith in the Universe, keep my peace and resolve some more of the grief.

Over the last week I have established contacts with his School and University expressing a desire to work with them to increase the awareness of mental illness in young people. Both the organisations have felt this need too and reciprocated with the intention of working together to the same end.

‘Loka samasta sukhino bhavantu.’ (May all people everywhere be happy.)
– Hindu prayer.

“Coaches are paid to win, teachers are valued for getting students into the best colleges. Less glamorous gains made along the way such as learning, wisdom, growth, confidence, dealing with failure are not given the same respect because they can’t be given a grade.” (William Zinsser in his book ‘On Writing Well’)

Speaking with a young lady while on holiday, I was surprised to hear that when she expressed her desire to be a teacher after finishing school, her teachers were somewhat disappointed. Apparently the only jobs worth pursuing are in ‘the city’ or as a lawyer or doctor. Was that the actual opinion of the teachers or was the reputation and grading of the school their main concern? How about education being about enabling young people to be more self-aware and empowering them to make choices that are right for them?

Ultimately, life is about expression. Be it our choice of words, actions, thoughts, facial expressions, hobbies, professions, humour or the clothes we choose to wear. Each of us is delightfully unique and brings to this planet what no one else can. How can the kids be happy when the very people and organisations that are meant to help and guide them to live their lives to its full potential want to put them into little boxes?

In a country like India where a score of 94% is not considered ‘good enough’ at A Levels, imagine how many young people feel highly inadequate. Consider how scandalous it would be, in this day and age, if a young lady spoke up and said that she would like to dedicate her life to having a lovely family and looking after them well. It would be amazing to see what the world would look like if each person could have the freedom to choose their path so that they could be the best they can be, not in terms of achievements by an external yardstick but finding fulfilment by their own parameters.