In the month of June he went for a gig to Dublin with his band and had a great time. He phoned me nearly everyday, which was a very pleasant change from before. He shared a lot about his music and his friends. He seemed to be really enjoying himself and his drumming. He shared how amazed he was at his ability to be able to hear each little strand of sound in any piece of music and completely decipher the entire arrangements of very complex pieces. He was on a roll.

A summer prior I had felt a distance between us and shared that with a friend who said that boys need to distance themselves from their Mums to be able to establish their own identities. Not to worry, he would come back after a while and now that was happening. Yay!

He came home a few weeks later with a lot of love for his grandparents who were visiting at the time. He would be up every morning in time to have breakfast with them, which was surprising but fantastic! He was enthusiastic about taking them places and showing them around London. Wow! Finally, he was coming around.

He was full of ideas and energy. He did not need much sleep and was very proud of it. He felt he was able to read really fast and felt great about that. Sometimes I thought he spoke a bit more than normal and I put it down to youthful optimism and self-confidence. He would even make morning tea in bed for me on my days off which was like a dream come true.

It was his closest friend who spoke with me privately and expressed concern. All he said was, “this is not the friend I know, something isn’t right”. I knew, but it was not obvious what exactly that was. It was confusing. Later we found out it was early Hypomania.

Over the last few days I have made contact with his school and university as well as my hospital. I have proposed that we work together to increase awareness of mental illness amongst young people. They are the most vulnerable group and often know each other better than their parents. So, hopefully if they are better informed, they can look out for each other, like his friend did.

Thanks Hugo! You are a star!

Here a couple more songs dedicated to him by his friends:

https://soundcloud.com/dontstealoursun

https://soundcloud.com/joaquimandthesmokemachine/breathe

The drumming in the second song is by my baby. Enjoy!!!

Of course he played video games. Don’t they all?

I have been observing my mind looking into every nook and cranny hoping to find a reason, a trigger or an explanation despite innately knowing that he suffered from an illness. Mostly it indulges in regret – I should have known better; I should have spent more time with him; I should have spoken less and given him more opportunity to share; I should have been more patient and such like. Other times it looks for clues in his behavior. The problem with that is the indistinct line between normal and not-so-normal. The latest one is video games.

He liked playing them although not for great lengths of time. Sometimes he would make me sit with him and watch him play. I did not enjoy that at all and often discouraged him as I thought they were too violent and completely senseless. For him it was just entertainment. He rationed the amount of time he spent on it so I did not worry too much.

After spending quite a while looking for one source of concise information on the link between mental illness and video games, this is what I found. Although it is one of the pages of a de-addiction center website, it is informative.

http://www.recoveryranch.com/articles/gaming-addicted-children-at-higher-risk-of-mental-health-issues/

There is a lot of conflicting material available on the subject depending on the source of publication. A co-relation between depression and anxiety disorders and Internet overuse exists. However, it may not be a causative one. In some cases it helps patients cope with their illness.

I still struggle to believe that violent video games do not have an impact on children’s psyche, however subtle.

The literal meaning of his name is ‘ocean’. Over the past few weeks I have been mostly choosing to spend time at sleepy little coastal towns and villages, partly to feel close to him (it’s silly I know) and partly for the warm weather. The comfortable proximity of the enormous force that is the ocean and the most vulnerable being, that is the human, completely baffles me. How trusting we are, to submerge ourselves in this huge reservoir of energy and feel completely relaxed.

The 10^th Anniversary of the Tsunami having passed recently, I could not help but think about it at this particular juncture in my life. The energy released in the Tsunami was equal to 23,000 Hiroshima type Atomic Bombs. 18 countries were affected, 230,000 people died, 1.7 million were made homeless and half a million were injured.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/11303114/2004-Boxing-Day-tsunami-facts.html

Up until recently these were just facts to me. Now, they are a measure of the pain, suffering and sheer destruction endured by millions of families in a matter of a few minutes and hours with repercussions on their communities and countries for a long time to come.

It is also a reminder of Mother Nature, changing its mind in a fraction of a second. That is how long it takes for our world to change forever or disappear all together.
Is there a lesson in this for us?
For me, there is one: these days are the ‘good old days’ of the future. All that is, is here and now.

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?