the now

Day 600

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Craters on the surface of the earth indicate something magnificently terrible happened here.

A hundred days have gone by six time over since the crater in my chest was created. I have surrounded myself with the ruins and cherished them ever since. I have held on to every scrap as tightly as I could, painfully parting with a few as if I was giving away fragments of myself.

Today I felt ready. It was a day of going through Saagar’s jumpers, t-shirts, shorts, scarves, ties, belts and shoes, looking at them and remembering how he looked in them, putting them down on a white sheet and taking pictures of them and then putting everything lovingly and neatly into cardboard cartons, loading up the car with 4 such boxes and driving to the Mind charity shop nearby, telling the story to the lady at the counter in about 6 words: My son had Bipolar. His things…

Although I thought I was ready, it was still like giving away a big chunk of myself. Another crater. I still hold on to a few scraps – a school tie and a university tie. I think he would appreciate that. May be not. No idea.

Well, these are only his things that I give away.
He is right here. In my heart.

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

Day 597

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This would have been the summer of Saagar’s graduation.
He would be attending various ‘last hurrah’ parties with his friends at this time.
I would be marking the date in my calendar and making sure I get leave from work on the day he graduates.
I would be picking a nice dress to wear for the ceremony wishing for good weather.
I would be giving him the card I bought for him rather prematurely in Canada while I was there for a conference 2 years ago, having no doubt about this occasion arising one day. In jest it said, ”Congratulations on your Graduation! Now you may pack your bags and move out.”

Instead, I played table-tennis after ages today. The last time I played it was with Saagar around Christmas 4 years ago. It was fun. Today was fun too and he was there.
Instead, I cooked mushroom pie for friends today. The last time I cooked for him was 19 months ago and it was fun. Today was fun too and he was there.
Instead, I went out for a long walk in the countryside today. The last time I did that with him was about 3 years ago and it was fun. Today was fun too and he was there.

“If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’ “

Day 590

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Another day!
Sorting out the house.
Discovering his drum sticks.
His linen trousers.
Wondering when it all started.
Cup of tea and toast.
One more and one more.
How could he not think of me?
How am I to carry this now?
I unpack another box and another.
Put things in various piles.
For charity, for school, for friends.
Yes. It is what it is.
But sometimes it’s too much.
Like today.
Distractions don’t work.
If at all, they make it worse.
I can see his face.
It’s here – just beyond my reach.
I hear his voice in my head, not my ears.
I feel his energy.
He wants me to smile.
Be happy.
I want him.
There are no answers.
Just the burden of time.
Another chai.
Life must go on.
I forget just why.

Day 584

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On the one hand there is mental health and on the other there is mental illness. It is possible to have no mental illness but poor mental health. For instance, one may not have a diagnosis but may be terribly unhappy, drinking excessively and taking drugs to cope with the stresses and strains of life.

On the other hand, it is possible to have a mental illness and be in a state of good mental health. For example, someone with a diagnosis of a mental illness who is able to feel good and function well with the help of friends and family, talking therapies and medications.

And then there is everything in between. At all times we are all on a spectrum. Our vulnerabilities are different at different times. They determine our ability to handle stuff thrown at us. Sometimes it feels like we have ‘too much on our plate’ even if there is very little on it. At other times, our plate might be truly full but we can cope.

I wish I had heard of ‘Happiness hour’ before. It is one hour spent on ourselves, doing something we enjoy doing, if possible everyday – taking a soak in a warm bath, watching TV, going for a walk, doing yoga and meditation, listening to music and so on. It keeps us feeling good and increases our capacity to manage our lives better. I have been consciously grabbing that hour for myself at least three times a week and it does make me feel better and stronger.