Cursed

“VROOOM….VROOOM…..VROOOOOOM…”

5 year old Piyali ran through the house, running her new truck over every wall, table, door and surface she could reach.

“Maaa…..when is bhaiyya coming home? Why isn’t he home yet?”

She ran after her mother, pestering her for answers as she continued playing.

“He will be home when he will be home. But he won’t love you if keep being so noisy and annoying.”

Piyali let out a peal of laughter. “Bhaiyya will never not love me. He loves it when I annoy you.”

She ran the truck over her mother’s behind and leaped out of reach before she could be caught. Laughing maniacally towards the door.

Deepali sighed in resignation. Her husband had been out of state for a fortnight on an official tour. One more day for him to come home. It was difficult for her to cope without him. But thankfully her elder son Deepak was a self sufficient and responsible man of the house. Except for the fact that he spoiled his sister too much.

“Maa…bhaiyya is home”

Deepali rushed with a glass of water to the door and froze. Something seemed off. Deepak stood there, silently, expressionless. He stepped inside, as if in a daze.

“Wha…” She took a gulp to wet her dry throat “what happened Deepak? Are you ill?”

“Uhh…I feel sick” he mumbled as he stumbled towards his room. Avoiding looking her in the eye.

“Bhaiyyaaa….you promised to play with me..” Piyali whined as she clung on to her brother.

He smiled weakly at her, patting her head. “We will…let me get some rest first. You can tell me all about what you did today.”

Her phone started ringing before Deepali could contemplate why her usually upbeat son was behaving so off and upset.

“Hello?”

Heavy, raspy breathing on the other end.

“Who’s this?”

“Maa….a…”

Her entire being went cold.

“Hee….lp…”

A number of things happened within moments…but that moment seemed to last forever.

The line went dead, and the phone dropped from her hand as the door to Deepak’s room slowly swung shut, even as she leaped to reach her daughter, whose smiling face looking adoringly at her brother as the door shut on her would remain etched in her memory forever.

When she reached the room, which took forever, it was empty, without a trace of her children. Before she could scream out in terror, the phone ran again.

Her nerves on her end, shaking and shivering she cautiously picked up her phone. It flashed her husband’s number. After a long pause she picked it up, not knowing what to expect or if it were really her husband what to tell him.

“H..ha..hello?”

“Ufff…..why do you take so much time picking up your phone Deepa? It could be urgent you know?”

She broke down crying hearing his familiar voice.

“What happened? Why are you crying?”

She couldn’t calm down enough to be able to utter any comprehensible word. Even if she did, she hadn’t any idea at all how to say it.

“Accha baba! Dont worry… I will be back home tomorrow. I might be a bit late though. Actually we had to start late from here. The company ran into some troubles with the locals here. These superstitious people wouldn’t allow us to start the construction because of their old temple being on that plot. It’s already ruined and nobody even worships. But they still won’t let go of it. We had to call the cops and I had to personally remove the idol because even the workers were bloody scared. Stupid superstitious lot. Anyways, stay safe and take care of those annoying brats till I am….OI…WATCH OUT!!…”

Deepalis eyes bulged in horror as she heard the crash, scream and grating sound of metal grinding over broken glass as the line went dead on her for the second time.

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Suicide is NOT an act of weakness

Following Pratyusha Banerjee’s suicide, Indian social media has gone wild with scrutiny of her affairs and actions. Some are calling medias obsession with the incident as an insult and invasion of her privacy and blaming them for blowing it out of proportions. Some are blaming her boyfriend and her closed ones for not paying enough attention to her. Some are blaming her for not being strong enough, calling her weak willed and fragile.

The truth is nobody knows exactly what she was going through and what circumstances led her to do it. It will make no difference to her anymore no matter how much we scrutiny her death. Remember Jiah Khan anyone? Right.

Can the Right to end one’s own life be a Fundamental Right?

This incident however sparked off some interesting discussions and debates about suicide and depression and how to deal with it. Some people have been actually bold enough to suggest that suicide should not be illegal or stigmatized. According to them, if we have full right (ideally) over our bodies and every aspect of our lives. Why should we not have control over how to end it? Why don’t we get to decide when enough is enough and that we are not ready to go on any further?

A person should have the right to end their life as and when they choose to. It is a personal choice. It makes sense to support the right to euthanasia for those terminally ill and living in extreme painful and pitiful conditions.

BUT.

How many of those that commit suicide, do it as a well thought-out, planned decision, after carefully considering both pros and cons, with a rational, unbiased and emotionally balanced mind?

More often than not, it is just a permanent solution to completely temporary problems. Problems that could have been avoided or dealt with just a little bit more patience and help.

Should these people also be allowed to end their lives and call it an exercise of ‘free will’? NO.

There is a difference between Euthanasia for a terminally ill patient who has only physical pain and sorrow to look forward to and that of taking one’s life because of mental stress and anguish. The latter is temporary, the former is inevitable.

Suicidal thoughts do not just manifest on their own. It’s like a tiny seed that starts from “I wish for this to end.” and goes through stages of “I wish the ground would just swallow me or the truck would just hit me and end my problems”. Ultimately, it reaches “I wish there were a painless way to end this” to “What is a little bit of momentary pain to be so afraid of?”

Is suicide an act of cowardice?

It actually takes a lot of guts to take the step. And once you make that decision, you actually feel free. Free of the fear and pain that holds you down. Free of the fear of death. Once you have made that decision you feel invincible because you have taken control of your life. The period between when the decision is made and the act is carried out, you become the most fearless and peaceful person in the world. Because you know nothing matters anymore. You know that whatever you do now, you no longer have to fear the consequences.

Once you accept death, you have nothing else to fear from life. What if you allow yourself just one day more to live? One more day to do just what you want without fearing about the consequences? Just go and bitch slap that asshole who ruined your life. Or go confess your feelings to that boy you loved. Or go apologize to that person whose life you may have ruined. Tell your friends how much you love them. Tell those who betrayed you how much they hurt you. Go and do everything you ever wanted to. Don’t worry about what happens next. Whatever happens will no longer matter once you are dead.

And why not spend each day of the rest of your life like that? Death is eventually gonna come for you. It will render all your worries, pains and sadness useless. Until then, why not live each day like it’s your last? Trust me, it is a wonderful feeling, to be free. If you are brave enough to have taken the decision consciously to end your life, then trust me, you are brave enough to live each day of your life like it is the last.

Depression is an ailment and it CAN be treated

Suicidal tendencies are a symptom of clinical depression. People suffering from severe depression often suffer from strong suicidal tendencies, if not treated, the consequences could be fatal. If you suspect yourself or someone you know to be suffering from depression, please don’t second guess yourself or try to deal with it on your own. Take an expert opinion and start treatment immediately if necessary. AASRA is an Indian organization which you can contact if you feel suicidal, they have experts who will listen to you and guide you through your hard time.
24×7 Helpline: 91-22-27546669

Ghost

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In the muted glow of the moonlit night,
Through the windows shone a glimmer of light.
Blowing the drapes like the cloak of death,
The whispering wind solemnly wept.

As he stood by the bed and gazed at the figure,
That lay on the bed, crumpled like a paper.
Was it moments or ages he couldn’t say,
How long he had been gazing at the man in that way.

Like the candle flame flickering in the wind,
A memory, on the edge was hovering within.
Of pain n despair and utter helplessness,
Of something dark n heavy, full of restlessness.

But vague it was like his own self,
Undefined, shapeless but still itself.
There was a pull binding him to the man,
Slowly fading and fading, out it went.

He shimmered in the moonlight for a furtive moment,
As memories flashed by his eyes like a comet.
Familiar all that a lifetime ago just was,
Felt as though like a strangers dream it was.

And like a dream, by the bed he was floating,
Yet untouched by the wind which was blowing.
He felt no cold no breeze no pain,
As if like a little child ,before sleep, tucked in.

As his attention and existence both seemed to wane,
A single feeling that hung back was pain.
In the eerie glow of the moon could be seen,
On the mantle,an empty bottle of pills and a crumpled note within.

And in the muted glow of the moonlit night,
Through the windows shone a glimmer of light.
Blowing the drapes like the cloak of death,
The whispering wind solemnly wept.