Skip to main content

Grief & I


Despite being so visible on Facebook, I have been busy the last week trying to meet deadlines. Happy with the outcome of two stories I did for a local magazine. Will put them up here once the magazine goes to print. But in all this, I have been consumed by an underlying sense of sadness at the news of my nephew being unwell again. He has fever just after a month. I am told that kids get ill very often, they go to school and pick up all kinds of viruses and that he will be better soon. Maybe he is still low on immunity after the long fever last time. I pray and hope he is on the mend. Just as I write this, the sun breaks out. It has been a gloomy, wet weekend and waking  up to the pitter patter of rains on a Monday has not been very helpful. But I take this ray of sunshine as a sign of good luck.

Ever the sentimental bore, I am so prone to sadness I think. Reading my friend Deepika’s blog on her dad a few minutes back, we are on the same plane. Somewhere, sometime in life, people do meet grief and in the recesses of the mind, that sadness stays forever. I know people who mourn so much for the loss of their near ones that they never come out of that grief. I have had an irreplaceable loss in my life – my mother – and the chance of never being able to call Mama again is something that no one, except the one going through, will understand. Which is my I understand why a trip to McDonald's and hearing someone call Baba made Deepika lose her appetite on an otherwise, hungry night of hard work. In my heart, I will always regret the fact that I did not spend much of my adult life with my mother sharing the banalities and joys of life. How do I handle this loss? I think I try not to delve into it. And in the humdrum of life, we just move on.

While I do not want my life to be defined by sadness, I also think one is allowed to be sad. It is good to be pragmatic in life but it is also human to allow the crevices of the heart to sink into a bottomless pit of sorrow. Coming out of it takes a few hours, sometime even days. The dreams too are full of sad visions. Nothing strange there, I think the subconscious soaks up the sadness and lets it manifest in the forms of dreams. It just has a way to overstay its welcome.

Growing up I have always felt that sadness is an inherent part of my personality and that I get drawn to all things sentimental. But I yes I don’t believe life is about grieving, and my optimism to life and the love I have around me has always made me balanced. I enjoy life, I love life and I want to spread happiness. Sadness finds a way to seep in, I allow it in, it is the inevitable part of life but in adulthood, I have learnt to balance it with some therapy. I am heading to the gym now and then catch up for coffee with a friend.  We will talk our blues away.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Mad Man Or A Boor

What does one do when one encounters a mad dog? Or what does one do when one encounters a man with pre-fixed notions about everything in life, most specifically of women who live alone and give him some importance? The two are equivalent to me and basic intelligence says avoid the paths they tread like plague. But I chose to tackle them head on. I almost got rabbies.

The mad man said [sic] "You sound like a very desperate person. A single and frustrated woman who is looking for anyone to leave a comment on your blog so much so that you wouldn't even spare a spammer." Spammer being, the first comment on the previous post is apparently a spam, an advert for T-shirts. Bummer! I thought it was a handsome Spaniard or Latino, so I had replied "Hi Rodrigo", hoping to take the conversation forward offline. Anyway! All this the mad man found out. I didnt. Sure, I dig comments because I love the spontaneity and intelligence of my friends. And I didn't invite the mad m…

Them Versus Us

Taking off from the Shilpa 'Shitty' issue (I love the surname and that comes from my ever so humorous and intellectual friend Latha or Lotty with love and Angel No. 1 to some :)), here are some reflections on being a north easterner in the capital of the world's largest democracy. Also, Lotty, on a serious note, says I should have a NE angle to what I write. She has a point. I have enough material there, enough to give vent to.

I begin with 'oye Chinky'. When I came to Delhi in the mid 1990s to do a professional course, I wasn't sure what the word meant. Maybe I was too busy paying heed to my new found independence and the certain sense of security -- the fact that I could go to the market even at 10 pm without the peering eyes of the army or the CRPF personnel patrolling the streets and stiffling our existence. It wasn't until my course was over and I got myself a break as a sub editor with the country's premier news agency, that I had my first hand exp…

The Churn

11 am: There I was bang on time at work, perhaps, in a long time. The occasion: a meeting called by the top boss and compulsory attendance required. I am, as always, out of the loop. Reason being there is always so much happening in my life that I am always behind everything. That does not mean I fail to deliver! And unlike some people who are truly into perception management (will delve on it later) and are such repository for all 'inside news', office gossip and politics least interest me. I mean, who cares if someone is quitting for some place else or is having an affair with so and so, or is being transferred unless that person happens to be someone I am generally fond of. Maybe then I would have been privy to some of the classified information ahem... So, was I in for shock today?

The meeting was sombre and had a full house attendance. And then our top boss spilled the beans. Three of the men at the helm were either quitting or were assuming other responsibilities and a ne…