All that is not glamorous

“Did you take your meds?” the good doctor asked.

I sniffed over the phone and wiped away two drops of tears from my left eye before answering, “twice the double dose.”

“Okay.” She obviously didn’t approve of my choice of dealing with ‘stuff’.

“Can I take another of those?” I asked her. I didn’t care about what it did to my physical health….i was just concerned with the mental health bit. I needed the talking in my head to stop and the sleep to come. I needed peace and I didn’t want to hurt myself.

“No darling, you can get through this without the meds. I promise you.”

How many more promises did I need in my life right now? I was sick and tired of the pep talks and the ‘I know what you are going through’ talks. Every Time I mentioned my condition, I got a speech about ‘my uncle/brother/mother/best friend went through the same. You will come out a stronger person’ talks.

They all know how it is. They all have faced the same. I had a girl in school who wanted to get depressed. She thought it was cool. “Imagine people always at your beck and call….all the attention you would get. Wow I want that,” she would rant on.

At the age of 15 I wasn’t aware that that would be me one day. People constantly asking how I am doing and whether I am better; that gets old after a point in time. I just want to be left alone.

Right now, I feel like hiding in a corner somewhere beneath a desk. Corners protect me, even from myself. I wonder as I write this whether I should get an award for writing down my thoughts instead of sulking in some corner.

There is nothing glamorous about pain. Pain is excruciating and violent. Along with it comes its friends helplessness and no self worth. Today I am facing it, tomorrow you might. So please, for the love of God, don’t tell a depressed person to ‘just deal with it’ and ‘to control your mind’.

Instead hold them when they need and tell them it’s going to be okay; if not today then someday. Tell them it’s okay to feel the way they are feeling and this too shall pass.

What Pink did to me and what it didn’t!

I was reluctant to watch the movie- Pink since the very first moment. The reason was simple- whenever I watch films discussing gender issues and women’s issues in particular, my blood races and my heartbeat quickens. It makes me think and that is the worst thing I can do to myself because I over analyze to such an extent that I lose my night’s sleep.
 
Pink made me cry. Not because it had powerful actors (which it had) and a predictable plot (frankly a daily affair for those of us who get a chance to glance at the newspaper every other day), but because it showed Delhi for what it was.
 
I could recall the whistles and the whisperings behind my back about my cup size while I walked down the streets of Karol Bagh as I saw Minal being molested in the car by 4 boys. I could visualize how it must have felt as Falak was asked to leave her job. I could feel the gaze of the colony-walas on the girls as they got home late at night and their judgmental look was all too familiar to me.
 
As a girl who has lived alone in an apartment, had more male friends than women ones and as one who loves to party and drink, I felt the pain of Falak, Minal and Andrea. After all, which lady in 2016 would not?
 
I cried internally and then after a few drops of salt water down my eyes, the grand Amitabh Bachchan came to the rescue. The father figure, the best brand ambassador patriarchy can ever have (pun intended), was speaking for women’s rights. NO means No was hammered into the viewer’s head.
 
But I had a problem. I asked myself, “all of that is fine…justice prevailed at last, but why was it the same old narrative?” Why was a man defending a woman- the ‘pitas’ and the ‘bhais’ we tie our rakhis to?
 
Then I asked myself- how would it be if a woman had played Amitabh’s role. Instead of the father figure, if a mother figure had defended the girls or the girls had defended themselves, how would the movie have panned out?
 
After all Akshay Kumar could defend himself in Rustom. How about Minal doing the same in Pink? Then my twisted mind came to one conclusion- women, if not Kali when required (and a situation like this requires it), will become lazy if they rely on a man to solve their problems for them.
 
I don’t know about other women, but I do (unconsciously) turn to my father and boyfriend for protection when I am eve-teased or harassed. I never do what has to be done myself.
 
So today, after a day on intense debate and watching a film that made me cry, I take home one lesson only- never again will I turn to anyone else but myself for defending me. If that means fighting till the end and losing the fight, I will do so unashamedly.
 
I will lose my sleep tonight just thinking about what my world would be like- where a lady defends her own like Kali did. Call me a dreamer, but I do hope to God that I am not the only one!