gratitude

Day 702

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In one month it will be 2 years since Saagar’s time on this planet came to an end. I don’t want that date to arrive. I am absolutely dreading it. I remember when Saagar was coming close to finishing school, the thought of him going off to university made me feel terribly sad, almost panicked, knowing it was bound to happen. It’s the same feeling, only different. Another year! Another slot of time. A longer gap between him and me, more distance between the time when he lived and now. More fade. More erosion.

This evening we attended a unique black-tie event – a dinner/dance to honour and celebrate Ruth’s life. She was only 44 when she got tired of her Bipolar Disorder. She had suffered with it for most of her adult life. Her friends and family got together and had a great big fun party for her. It was a happy event. I have never met Ruth but her Mum and I have a unique bond. It felt special to be there with Si and my parents. I felt deep gratitude for all these lovely people in my life. All the proceeds went to the charity Mind.

The same adjectives I use to describe Saagar were used  to describe Ruth. She was actively involved in amateur theatre and her gorgeous photographs from various productions were displayed for our pleasure – Kismet, Sweet Charity, South Pacific and Oliver. Her twinkling eyes and cheeky smile sparkled through every photograph.

“Mem’ries light the corners of my mind
Misty water-colour mem’ries of the way we were
Scatterred pictures of the smiles we left behind
Smiles we gave to one another for the way we were
Can it be that it was all so simple then
Or has time re-written ev’ry line?
If we had the chance to do it all again
Tell me, would we? Could we?
Mem’ries may be beautiful yet
What’s too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget
So it’s the laughter we will remember
Whenever we remember
The way we were… the way we were…”

The way we were from ‘The way we were’.

Bless you Ruthy!

Bless you Saagar!

Day 697

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s-bench-2

Last week, Saagar’s bench was dedicated to his memory at his old school. I was asked to speak. It’s never easy but I do have a lot to say and so I did speak. I also wore a sari as Saagar would have liked that.  It was attended by many of his teachers and friends, some of our friends and family and some who didn’t know him at all. Here is an except of what I said:

“We got married in 1990. I was 24. Very close to my ‘sell by’ date, which in India is about 25 for a girl.

3 years on and no kids! Both sides of parents were politely not asking, only hinting obliquely every now and then. 3 years was too long! Concerning! I was a junior doctor and Naresh was a captain in the Indian army. In the 4th year of our marriage, Saagar was born. He was beautiful! First grandchild on both sides of the family. Much adored and absolutely adorable! At 5 years of age, while moving from nursery to Kindergarten, he was asked to write numbers from 1 to 10 and then all the alphabets. He started with 1 and wrote all the numbers till 9 which he wrote the wrong way around and it became a P. He then carried on writing QRS…Z.

As he was growing up, he coped with many changes, moving from one city to another in India and then to Northern Ireland and then London. The reading homework in Primary school was more about the accent of the day rather than the reading. He had a great sense of fun. He made good of wherever he found himself. He never made a fuss. Although, age 9, after school one day he did ask me if his name could be changed to ‘Aron’. He had his own brand of humour and an infectious laughter. He loved dressing up. He valued his friendships greatly. And grew up to be a talented young man. His accomplishments far surpassed our expectations, as an academic, as a musician and linguist, a sportsman and as a human being. I always thought he was too good to be true. It turned out he was.

His brief illness was very painful and confusing for all of us, most of all for him. He did his best to manage it. He followed every advise he was given. He wanted to get better but sadly that wasn’t to be.

In the UK suicide is the leading cause of death for young people, both male and female, 3 times more than road accidents. Every day in the UK alone, 4-5 young people take their own lives. 3 times more men than women. Majority of people don’t know this. I didn’t know it. But it is the sad truth and it is closer to home than we think. It needs to be treated as an urgent priority. I am immensely grateful to the college for honouring Saagar and keeping his memory alive in so many ways. Thank you for recognising the need to raise awareness and to empower everyone to be able to make a difference.

I am very proud of Saagar. He would be very proud of me seeing me use an i-pad today. He was the one who coaxed/encouraged me to move from my good old Sony Vaio to Apple. It always amused him to see ‘old people'(me) work on a computer. Even today when I am stuck, my first instinct is to call out to him.

For me this bench is a reminder of Saagar’s friendly, creative and playful nature, his wit and charm and his ability for compassion. I hope the boys will enjoy it and know that they never have to suffer alone. I hope that it will be a source of strength and hope for many for a long time to come.

Thank you all for being here today.”

Thank you.

Day 696

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It started off very well. The young lady who looked like she had just walked out of a Boney M album gave us a nice little warm-up. I felt excited about the walk, having never done this kind of a distance before (50K). I didn’t know what to expect. Having so much time to think can open up all kinds of channels in the brain. So, I knew I had to watch myself which I did.

The first 30 kilo meters were easy despite the constant light drizzle interrupted by heavy showers a few times. At the very start we decided to not worry about the timing as we wanted this to be a pleasant and peaceful day. A few people asked us about Saagar whose picture they noticed hanging off our back-packs. They told us about their mum with dementia or their sister with cancer or their soldier husband with PTSD and so on. We shared our stories and derived comfort from each other. It made me marvel at the voluntary sector in this country and what a good job they do. I could see that in the field of Suicide Prevention too, the commitment of concerned charities is incredible. I felt great that I could help in some way. I also knew that my friends and family were thinking of us and derived strength from that.

Soon after the 30K point, the ground turned from a springy green grassy surface to a quagmire of mud. We had to place our feet on the slippery uneven path very carefully knowing that if we fell down, we possibly won’t be able to get up. It really slowed us down and greatly increased the tension in our legs.

Luckily around this time the rain stopped, the skies cleared up and we entered the serenity of the twilight zone. The legs by now were starting to complain but were still manageable. Annoyingly, some of the runners who had started their 100K run a couple of hours before us were now passing us.

The last 5 kilometers.
They were the test. They took me to the brink of my endurance.
Physical and emotional.
One pain making the other worse.
I so wanted to keep it together till we got to the end. If I would have stopped, I am not sure I could have re-started. The tears came right up to the eyes and one or two escaped into the darkness. Others just sat there and did not spill. They sat there looking at the parallel: finding myself in an impossible situation and yet somehow carrying on despite how I feel. The whole range of emotions from the last two years traversed through me in those last 2 hours.

I hung on to Si’s hand and kept walking funny/limping/hobbling. I am sure his left arm is marginally lengthier than the right one now.

By the time we reached the finish line, I was numb. I felt nothing.
We sat down and a lovely young man came up to us and asked about Saagar and then the dam burst open. It was long overdue. It was time.

Would I do this again?
Yes.
“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.”
― John Muir

Day 693

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This morning I spent an hour and a half at the Parliament Square with other enthusiastic, proactive, dedicated , men and women of all age groups who are passionate about talking about suicide and bringing it into everyone’s awareness so that it stops being a taboo subject.

A new YouGov survey commissioned by national charity PAPYRUS Prevention of Young Suicide reveals 78% of those surveyed did not know that suicide is the leading killer of our young people. The nation needs to wake up to the reality before more young lives are lost.

People do not realise how major this issue is. We need to raise this level of awareness and enable people to be more comfortable with the idea that they too can help to prevent suicide.

When asked what stops people from asking a distressed friend or relative about their suicidal thoughts, the main reason given was the fear of putting the idea of suicide into a person’s head.

“All the evidence shows that naming suicide is a relief for the person at risk and that we cannot create the idea by talking about suicide”, stresses Ged Flynn. “I cannot emphasise more strongly that asking about destructive feelings, talking about suicide, does not make it more likely to happen. It can, and often does, reduce the risk of suicide. Talking about suicide can seem scary but silence and stigma are killing young people. Many young people feel isolated with thoughts of suicide. People can start today by supporting our #TalkThroughTheTaboo campaign – it could save a young life.”

What would stop someone from speaking out about their destructive thoughts? That they would not wish to worry anyone (31%) or felt they would be letting people down (26%). Stigma is a barrier to seeking help.

Andy’s Man club is an inspiring new movement started by Luke. His main message is – “It’s ok to talk.” (http://www.totalrl.com/feature-andys-man-club-incredible-concept-telling-men-itsokaytotalk/). I felt strong standing there with these people, knowing that through the pain and tears, I make a difference.

When great trees fall

When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.

When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.

When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.

Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of
dark, cold
caves.

And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.

-Maya Angelou

Day 684

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My dearest Saagar,

It’s my birthday today. It’s strange not to have you with me. Strange and painful. I miss you more today than other days if that’s possible.

This morning I visited your school and attended a talk by Dick Moore. It was intended for the teachers but I invited myself to it because I wanted to hear him speak. Some of your teachers were there. They came to me later on and spoke fondly of you, saying how unbelievable all of this was and how wonderful you were. I wholeheartedly agreed.

It broke my heart to be sitting in the very hall where we attended the parent-teacher meetings, the same hall where subsequently your memorial service was held and now this talk. It was an inspiring talk by another parent who had lost a son to suicide and learnt a lot and found the strength to share what he had learnt through this experience in a way that will benefit many hundreds of school children and staff.

At one point your beautiful picture was put up and it dominated the room and for a moment I couldn’t believe any of this was happening!

I had lunch at the same dining hall where you would have eaten every school day for 6 years. I sat on ‘your’ bench and watched the cricket nets where I had taken innumerable shots of your bowling over and over again. Only you knew the difference between one and the next. They all looked completely identical to me.

One of your friends came over and brought me a big bunch of sun-flowers and a very sweet hand-made card! I felt your energy in her smile and the big hug that she gave me. We went out for a Thai meal and I accidentally bit on a red chilly that absolutely burnt my mouth. In that moment I thought of you. Perhaps this was your naughtiness coming through. I am sure you were watching my streaming eyes from somewhere and having a good laugh. Can’t put it past you.

While I missed you terribly, the day was filled with you. Thank you my darling. I love you.

Yours,
Mamma.