Day 616

S Bench 2

The lush green school grounds, the theatre, the officious but friendly teachers, the man-boy students, the flowing laughter, the drinks and nibbles, the chatty parents, the Design show at Saagar’s school.

We were invited. We were there to see Saagar’s memorial bench holding pride of place. The show-stopper!

The highly talented and very sweet young man T, who made it was there too with his family. We met them for the first time. His mother said that he had worked really hard on this project as he felt honoured to be asked to do it. He was apprehensive about meeting me but thereafter he relaxed and enjoyed doing it.

A few years ago Saagar studied Design and Technology(D&T) for his GCSEs. He loved it. One day he sat down to discuss his project with me. He asked me what kind of a jewelry stand I would like – the rough shape and size of it and other requirements it should fulfil. He made me a beautiful jewelry stand for my trinkets – with mirrors, rods for necklaces, little pots for finger-rings and ear-rings and smaller pots for safety pins and hair pins. He paid attention to every detail. The stand took centre stage on my dressing table from the day it entered the house.

I hope he appreciates the lime-green legs on his bench. That’s me returning the favour, if at all possible.

Day 611

Posted by kidsaregifts20

The seminar hall at the All Souls Club was full. It was the Annual day of SOBS, Survivors Of Bereavement by Suicide. This is one of those support groups that wishes that it’s membership would continue to drop to the point where it would not need to exist. But sadly, year on year there are more and more families seeking help after being struck by this tragedy. They bring their stories, their feelings and thoughts to this sacred space where they are understood and honoured.

Some of the topics explored by us were – guilt being a major part of bereavement by suicide and how to deal with it; how much of a ‘choice’ is suicide; how useful and effective is the Coroner’s inquest and how can it be made more meaningful.

A few parents have been attending this annual meeting for more than 15 years. They all observed that at the meeting in 2009 there were roughly 10 parents present. Today there were more than 45 and they had to form 2 groups for meaningful exchange to take place.

Last year my friend N and I had to leave the meeting in the middle of a talk and we stood on the staircase hugging each other and crying inconsolably. Today N mediated one group of parents and I the other.

Getting through one day at a time, putting one foot in front of the other and then looking back, I see that bonds are strengthening, hearts are healing and light is entering not only into us but also into the world through our wounds.

Day 604

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‘Dying from a mental illness is just the same as dying from any other disease’ says Paulie O’Byrne, a young man from Canada.

Paulie suffered sexual abuse at the age of 19. It took a long time for him to get past his shame and tell someone about it. Many people didn’t believe him including his parents. He suffered with anxiety, depression and PTSD and took to drugs and alcohol in a big way to be able to cope with the pain. He felt suicidal on many occasions.

His recovery could only begin when somebody believed what he had to say. That’s his message – when someone tells you they have a mental illness or that they are suicidal or that they have been abused, all they ask for is to be believed.

‘As much as I love my support and friends and family, for me I would not call them. The reason I say this is because in my mind it would cause more hurt and confusion if I told someone close that I have a plan to end my life. I thank god every day for crisis lines- the humans that work for them are angels among us. I can boldly state right now I’ve called the crisis line over 50 times since 2010, and I’m still here. I’ve thought about ending my life on my birthday before, for the sole reason people will only have to feel sad 1 day a year, not my birthday and death day.’

He worked incredibly hard to get out of the dark place where he was. His counsellors didn’t give up on him and he didn’t give up on himself. He started a movement called ‘1 in 5’, the motto of which is ‘strength from pain’. He speaks and blogs about the high incidence of sexual abuse in men (1 in 5) in Canada and encourages other victims to come forward and speak about their experiences by doing so himself.

He lives in gratitude, one day at a time.
‘I am grateful for the fact that I can breathe.’

Day 603

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Historically and mythologically, India has a named God for every force of nature – the sun, moon, stars, rain, wind, you name it… After a long exasperating summer, rain is much desired and romanticised as it brings relief, cools things down, settles the heat and dust. It is good for crops and cattle. It is refreshing and life giving and most welcome. Indian classical music has ragas (sets of musical notes) dedicated to invite and celebrate the rainy season. Miyan Tansen, one of the most accomplished musicians of his time (1506-1589 AD) is famous for being able to beckon the rains by singing Raga Megh Malhar. No Bollywood film is complete without a sing-song in the rain.

The sun on the other hand was quite terrifying. Sunglasses, head scarves, shady trees and umbrellas were life saving! Going out in the sun was avoided if at all avoidable except for a few weeks in winter months when the sun was mild. When Saagar entered our house in the UK for the first time, he immediately commented on the absence of ceiling fans. Until I moved to the UK I never quite understood the meaning of the phrase ‘you are the sunshine of my life’. I still cannot get myself to complain about the rain. I love it.

While out on a walk this afternoon, we got caught in a proper heavy shower. After a long time I found myself out in the open getting gently rinsed and rejuvinated by Mother Nature’s playful energy. It was so wonderful! I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face for quite a while. The heavenly fragrance of the newly disturbed earth wafted up and filled all my senses with nostalgia. I remembered the time when Saagar was little and we lived in Delhi, the moment it started raining we would run up to the terrace, dance and sing and splash about! It was heavenly!

Whether India or UK, rain is just rain and sun is just sun.
All else is in the interpretation.

Day 599

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Saagar’s death has brought me face to face with my own mortality. One day I will die. My time on this planet is limited. Of all the people in the world who were alive yesterday, many thousands did not make it to today but I did. All my near and dear ones did too. Isn’t that wonderful?

Being conscious of my mortality for a few moments everyday keeps me grounded. It reminds me of what is important. How do I want to spend the little time I have? Do I want to be miserable? Do I want to be calm, creative and joyful? Do I want to continuously complain or do I want to be grateful for all the blessings that have come my way over the years and continue to arise everyday? Is it worthwhile holding grudges against anyone as one day they will be dead too.

Life is a brief happening. It is too short for love. It is my mortality that makes me want to know the nature of my existence. Saagar lived his life in a rich and enriching way. He filled it with all things nice: learning, music, friends and laughter for himself and those around him. I have so much to learn from him.

“As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.”
― Seneca