Day 11: Session 1 of Counseling

Friday, Jul. 2

Didn't realise, how high the demand for psychologists is, until I had to look for one myself! It took me a few days to find a "good" one, and then a few more to get on his calendar. The earliest opening he had was 3 weeks ahead, until last evening, when someone cancelled for today, and he took me in. All of this was entertained, only after I paid up in full, in advance, the day my 3 week appointment was scheduled.

Neel's birth was a reckoning of sorts, towards the institutional discrimination our medical system is prone to. For someone like me, a person with resources, means and network, Neel's initial few days were tough, to say the least. I cannot imagine what happens to anyone who has either of the triage missing, let alone someone who has neither. No wonder, addressing mental health issues is considered a luxury. How can one afford the time, energy and most importantly, the money?

Any how, moving back to my reality.. The Psychologist I spoke to did not give me any diagnostic test (as demanded by the Psychiatrist), but did run through a conversation to arrive at a primary conclusion: anxiety, with borderline depression.

Anxiety, I do believe, no second thoughts..

But, me and depression? Seriously? I don't feel like it.. I'm functioning well enough, rather "high functioning", in terms of the psychologist himself. I'm doing everything I ought to do, and more. I'm NOT curled up in a bed, crying, literally and in head. Neither have I given up on life, rather I look forward to it. So, what's this depression all about?

Have you heard of stages of Cancer? Very rarely cancer is detected in the first stage, because the victim herself or himself is not aware of the disease, there's rarely any physical symptom. As I work with a cancer hospital, we see many patients who actually come after cancer has crossed the "curable stage", because that's when they see the symptoms.

I think depression is just like that.. We are not aware of the depression creeping in, until we reach a tipping point. We live perfectly happy life, go on about our day to day stuff, and then suddenly, one day, an episode pushes us into a spiral. That's the moment when depression props up its ugly head. More often than not, we brush it off as a mere episode, or more commonly, an "over-reaction". It is about recognising that moment, that it is NOT an over-reaction, giving ourselves the space to feel what we do in that moment, and letting not other's thoughts of "how good our life is" influence that emotion.

It was some tough, life altering decisions I had to take (and the realisation that I had to live with the consequences, forever) that led to the eruption of the volcano for me. I did not realise what it was, but I knew something was going on. That's when I sought help.. And, to my amusement, I have signs of something as serious as depression. It was hiding in plain sight, depicted through my sleep pattern, through my behaviour, through my food habits.. It just required a trained eye to look at it and call it out for what it is.

I hope anyone who is struggling out there, finds that courage, even if it is to reach out to me and have a conversation! I'm always available..

Day 1: The Coming Out!

 June 22, 2021 - 1156 hrs. - I am at the door, as usual, before time. 

"Excuse me, I have an appointment.. Sir called me at 12."

The lady did not even look up, she pointed to an empty chair.. 

I hate waiting, specially at the clinics. Come on, why can't doctors' put up a proper appointment system? Usually, I'd walk out after 10 minutes wait, don't care who's the meeting with, 'pl stick to time'! But, not today.. The doc had told me in advance, pl bring your work along, you will have to wait. 

Was it a part of the treatment protocol? The wait, an exercise in developing patience?

It's been a while since I have knocked the doors of a Psychiatrist, I think the last was in 2008/2009, not much of a successful experiment then. But, this time I know, I need this, I have to make it a success. If I want to find myself, and find some peace, there's no other way!

What's wrong with me, you ask? Don't I have everything to be envious about: a good life, and a good wife.. Incredible kids and family, a great home and a few close friends, many well wishers. Hell, in these times of pandemic, I even have work that pays. Rather, if I wanted, I could increase it by leaps and bounds. I have enough blessings, and I'm grateful.

Then, why?

That's the question, right? Behind the smiling faces, the engaged conversations, could there be deep secrets, covering up wounds, hiding in plain sight? Because, showing your weakness, being vulnerable, isn't that a sign of failure?

NO, it's NOT! 

It's high time we acknowledge that human brain, in partnership with mind and heart, is a complicated ecosystem. And, it holds many secrets, some that might be burning fires behind a confident wall. In my case, literally - a heartburn that I've been feeling in my throat for a few days now. It's like ferocious flames of fire in your throat, that the weak saliva is trying to douse.. (Good news is, it's a perfect excuse to eat tonnes of ice cream.. ;) )

And, so, I'm coming out.. I've always struggled with mental health issues: ADHD as a child, Claustrophobia, Attachment issues, and finally, the evil of all, chronic Anxiety. And that's why I went to the doc today, to start opening the Pandora's box, and dealing with the devils in my head, heads on.

Through a series of posts that will come up, I wish to share this journey, hopefully of healing and finding joy. Probably, someone some where reading these might just realise, s/he's not alone, and, that would have served the purpose..

🤞

Rotary Peace Fellow

This morning, I received an email which carried this link: http://cgi.unc.edu/top/staff-blog/2011?q=darshan&x=0&y=0

If you've already opened it, let me clarify, I do not send it to blow my own trumpet. It's just that the article touched my heart, not cuz it was written bout me, but cuz it came from someone who I considered real close. Some one who had been with me through out the process that she writes about, rather it was her patience and her care that nurtured my passion to do what I wanted. She stood besides me, not only me, but every peace fellow through their two years, and then as a continuous locus of support. Rotary peace fellowship is an amazing program, but what makes it incredible is the extra support and care that the Rotary family renders. It is an opportunity for dreams to manifest in reality, which otherwise might have disappeared in thin air.

Let me not forget the peace fellows, the school and the cohort. All that she writes about, if I may say so, can happen only at UNC. The patience with which school endured my tantrums, the love with which my friends stood besides me, the care that my mentors and faculty showed, the affection of my host parents, the list can go on...

I never could pen my thoughts or after reactions of the peace fellows program. How could I? It seems impossible to capture all those emotions, all those experiences, everything in black and white. But, this link is a sufficient trigger to remind me how every one copied on this email has been a source of change in my life.

I'd not say thanks, I'd rather say, "Rotary Peace Fellows" let's rock it! :)

Love, Darshan

Hotel Rwanda

I was watching this movie, and half way through it, I wrote an email to my faculty. This is an excerpt of that email and further continuation of thoughts...

I'm writing you this email in kind of a weird state. I am watching "Hotel Rwanda" right now, and am not sure if I can watch it complete... Saw a documentary on Darfur this afternoon. Was watching "The Pianist" a few days back... For my Rotary Capstone Seminar, have been researching on the Sino-Tibet issue and watching the news videos of Chinese Police and Tibetan interactions...

Where are we headed with all of this around us?

Last year, just before I came to the States... One evening I was done with my office work a bit early, i.e. about 7:30 p.m. So, I visited my Aunt. There, I saw on the news that a local political leader had charged all the non-Maharashtrians (Out of State residents in the state of Maharashtra, implying those who came from other states) of taking away jobs from the locals and so had ordered them to leave the state. The news showed people moving out of Mumbai, at some places riots. I could not see it, so switched off the TV, and then left my Aunt's house to visit one of my college teachers. Thought I would buy her some ice cream, so stopped at a shop. The shop was owned by a Non-Maharashtrian. The moment I ordered the ice cream, I heard a big bang, and screams... Some people had come on bikes and had assaulted a vendor outside the shop. Picked his cart, over thrown it. I could not see the vendor nor did I know what had happened to him. A chill had passed through my spine. I was dumb found.. Stuck on my place for a few minutes... I ran out of that shop, got in my car and straight drove away from main road in a lane. The story continues of how I ended up calling police and how my teacher helped me recover for that moment...

My point is, what is all of this? We discuss human rights, and all the big words. But I am not sure how practical all of it is. One psychotic like Hitler led the whole world in a war. Another psychotic like John Bolton, follows his footsteps to use the same "fear dynamic" to push Americans in other wars. Then there are people who claim the divine right to rule others...

Ma'am, is it worth it what we are trying to do? Would not it be squashed by someone with just one sweep someday?

There are a few moments in my life, when I am utterly unsure of what is the purpose of this life if it is all about the struggle of existence for a few and the leisure of will for some others? These are moments when tears do not part from my eyes. I feel incapacitated and absolutely helpless...

I am not sure what I am thinking. But, whole through the movie,and the other documentaries I watched in last few days, I have been thinking of you and the class discussions, so finally had courage to write.

It is said that we are trained to take up the international jobs, like the UN, the World Bank, so on and so forth. What's the use? After studying the extensive history of the UN and the formulation of the UDHR without any implementing mechanism, or for that matter, as a tool in the hand of the big 5, what's its use? After listening to Fiona Terry and so many others, humanitarian aid also seems a modus operandi. Use it till you can, else leave the people to die...

Did I really dream of an UN job? And would I really be able to make anything work there?

Looking at the utter helplessness of UN Peace Keepers and the way army functions, I am happy I got specs at the right time, which proved me ineligible for army. I am happy, I am not in the phase where my mind would be rendered helpless by some dumb words on a piece of paper, known as "order."

I am better of as an individual, might be a social worker, might be no one...

the kid

Shannon, for you to read...

Do you remember the two beautiful kid girls outside Grand Prince? The luncheons and the handshakes? The hugs? I am sure, you do, much more than I would.

In the similar manner, here, at Dharamshala, there are two or three ladies with their kids. Usually they stand outside the small cafe or the staff mess, where people have their lunch. they ask fro alms, but as well for food and water. From day one, I was struggling whether I should go ahead an offer them meals or just let it be... Don't forget, they were not kids, they were ladies. But, they did have two kids with them, a small girl who reminded me of the younger one in Dhaka. And why was I struggling? do you recall the debate about "feeding a fish vis-a-vis teaching them to fish" and the beggar syndicate thingy... I was unsure.

Today, looking at that young girl staring at me while I was having my meal, my internal debate reached its peak. And I remembered our talk on the way back from bank! Yes, I did accordingly, what my heart said. Handed over a plate of food to the little girl....

And let me tell you, I feel much more calm! At ease... A sense of peace!

Yes, it is more important to teach some one to feed himself rather than feeding them for free. But I feel, it is equally important to let that person survive for that moment when he can learn the skills, if ever someone who can teach them comes along! Till then, as we spoke, lets just embark on our li'l mission, in our modest capcities!

I am going to teach the kid the handshake tomorrow.. :-)

Identity

I am an Indian!!! Proud to be one… This is my country, my culture, my tradition. We have our own problems, but this country works. The world’s largest democracy, though squeakily, functions. It still provides me with an identity and an individuality. But had I known this? Was I aware that I had certain privilege, because I had a nationality? Was I even aware that my nationality was my blessing?

The one basic thing that I took for granted, was for someone a dream. The freedom I take for granted every moment, is a fairy tale for millions of people in Tibet, in Sudan, in Gaza, in Somalia, world over there will be examples. The closest I come to feel this is, through my colleague at CTA. I joined CTA on Tuesday, and she was on a half day leave on Wednesday. What’s so unusual about the half day leave? The unusual is the reason for the leave. She had to go to the local police station to renew her residence permit. An annual chore of Tibetans settled in India. Every year, they have to struggle with the “great” Indian bureaucracy to fetch a piece of paper recognizing them. And how much does this piece of paper serve in recognition? Let’s know it from these two experiences…

She was supposed to leave to attend a conference in Italy. As usual, she arrived on Delhi airport, and went to the check-in line. After being in queue for about half an hour, she finally arrived at the officer’s desk. The officer asked for her papers, and she forwarded the “Green Card,” official refugee document issued by the government of India. To her dismay, the officer refused to acknowledge the document issued by his own country and she had to wait for an hour before he was satisfied that she was holding the “green document” of government of India. She was allowed to proceed… I should say, she was lucky because the fate of my other friend was not similar…

Lady 2… She is supposed to visit Dubai for a Hotel Management training program. In this case, she is lucky, not because she meets friendly officers, but because she is leaving from Mumbai airport, which is usually over crowded. No one cares as much to check her papers in detail. They see the Indian government logo on her green paper, and let her go. She boards the flight and lands in Dubai,, full of dreams to make the most of this training. To bring back to her parents, the dreams fulfilled. To be a burning flame of the Tibetan mission, by being genius in her field. With all these hopes, she walks out of the flight to the arrival lounge for immigration clearance, and her nightmare starts. The officer’s at the Dubai airport refuse to acknowledge the paper. The airlines refuses to give her nay feedback. The Indian authorities on airport do not even wish to speak with her. To add to all of this, her luggage is missing, and they have confiscated everything she has, including her purse. She is not allowed to move for around 20 hours. After which, she is allowed to make calls to identify herself. In desperation, she calls her family and the Indian Embassy. As usual, the embassy is out of reach, but family is there. The family contacts the Tibetan government, who in turn contact the Indian government, who are now forced to take action. Thus they inform the Dubai immigration people that the document is issued by the government of India, but it cannot be used in the lieu of a passport. The only out come of this is, after being stranded on Dubai airport for more than 36 hours without food or luggage, the lady is deported to India…

Are these only two stories? Nopes… There are thousands of such stories of the plight of not only Tibetans, but all those people whose government is either unable to provide them with an identity or who are compelled to forced identities…

For me, who has always enjoyed the freedom, and taken my identity for granted, it is really difficult to understand what it means to be an “alien in a foreign land”. All I can do is, pray, pray for individuals to find their anchors… Pray for humanity to find the ultimate truth, that if we all decide to live in harmony, everyone will have enough, but we need to choose to live, not to greed…

Threshold

Here’s a story… “I was around 13, staying in a remote village. My parents are farmers, and so, I used to work with them. My responsibility was to take the cow to grasslands, and get her back home in the evening. There was no school, no electricity, nothing. The life was a mere routine. One day, my cousin said, let’s go over the fence. On the other side of the fence is where the school is, on the other side of the fence is where the teacher is… Let’s go… My heart cried, let’s go… And I started walking…”

This is not a story from a school text emphasizing the importance of education, neither is it a fairy tale, where she crosses over the fence and her struggles are all over. This is the story of my colleague, an employee of Central Tibetan Authority (CTA) functioning from exile in Dharamshala in India. And the fence is the Tibet-Nepal-India border, the teacher, His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama. At the age of 13, she left her remote village in the Tibetan land, in search of education and a better dignified life, because her cousin told her so. She was told that they will arrive on Nepal border in 15 days, a guide was there to take them along. She had paid 700 Yuan for that, possibly all her savings. Without any idea of the terrain they are going to go through, without any idea of where they were headed, without even basic life supporting material such as enough food, this little girl started walking with seven other Tibetans, juts in the hope of a better life. Not even her parents knew, where she was… Rather, her mother went to a monastery every day for six months, and finally gave up the hope of finding her, choosing a thought that she dreaded. The thought that her daughter was no more… But, the daughter had pursued a dream. She walked, at times without food for 3 days, at times seeing one of her friends get blind because of the reflections from snow, at times begging from nomads, she walked and walked and walked. After a walk of “one month and fourteen days” (this is how she puts it), they arrived on the Nepal Border. This is when the pains eased a bit. Received by the Tibetan reception center, they were sent on a bus to Delhi, India, and from there she was sent to Dharamshala. Considering her age and her knowledge, she was further sent to a school in South India, and then University.

A girl, who had not learnt to read and write till the age of 13, started her education at the age of 14, today, at about 30, already has a masters in arts. Her quench for knowledge has not yet sufficed… She wants to learn more. Do more for Tibetans and for the welfare of her people. She has no regrets, no over-reacting emotions. It is just her matter of fact life story, that is what she claims.

I was left speechless listening to this. A casual ask-out, as you may want to term it, turned in an evening full of emotions. We were walking the streets of McLeod as Abhay wanted to do a bit of shopping. Abhay had called her to help us out with the shops, and she had immediately obliged. Without a word, without any hesitation. We finished the shopping, and I asked her out, asked her to join us for a cup of coffee, and she agreed. It was me and Abhay, bragging about our world, our topics. Two women with us on table, nodding to what we were saying. And, realizing the situation, I asked her a casual question, “What made you come to India?” And came the story…

I came to Dharamshala as per my schedule. Stayed here for 7 days, but was so bored and was missing home, so went back to Pune for 7 days, before restarting my internship. I proudly claim to everyone that my threshold to stay away from my parents, family, and friends is not more than 4 months, and here, I was sitting with a girl who had spoken to her mother for the first time after her escape, after more than a decade. And that was the only time she had spoken with her mother. Now she has some contact with her brother, but that too is occasional. She cannot call them regularly else they will be in trouble. She cannot visit them as easily, because she has to get papers cleared form Chinese embassy in New Delhi.

What is her threshold? What is the threshold of Tibetan patience? What is the threshold of infinite compassion encompassing the heart of His Holiness? What is the threshold of this world, where we will keep on watching these injustices around us every moment, until we react? What is the threshold that conflict has to achieve, to topple itself into peace?

Incidentally, my threshold seems very low. The overwhelming incidence already has shaken us (me, Abhay, and Fahmida)… I feel a need for a hug, and once again I remember… What did she do at the age of 13, arriving in a foreign land? Who was there to hug her?

I bow in front of her threshold…

Des Hoyaa Pardes

"Darshan, you are an Indian, a proud Indian!"

Yes.. I am! I am proud of my country, the beautiful colors, the culture, the natural beauty.. :Unity in Diversity!" The first sentence imprinted on my mind from the history book. All the history I was taught was baout how India has suffered and how we have peacefully fought it back, won our freedom! What I am taught is to love my motherland and turn a blind eye towards her fallacies.. And, this is where I miss the other side of the coin. In my love for my mother land, I forget it is the same country that has instilled innumerable instances of injustice on it's own citizens!

Ain't it the same India where Hindu's killed Muslim's and Muslim's killed Hindu? Did they forget "Vasudhaiva Kutmbakam"? Ain't it the same India where temples and mosques are demolished? Ain't it the same land where a old soul wearing one piece of cloth, was shot while walking to prayers, and they took pride in it? The India where "under-the-table" phrase rules the bureaucracy. The India, where people go missing, never to return!

For all fanatically proud Indians like me is the movie, "Des Hoyaa Pardes." If you can see it in one go, let me know!
(http://www.veoh.com/search/videos/q/des+hoyaa+pardes#watch%3Dv15652007mNzEqhC3)

I was proud to meet the top official of one of the Indian police services, that takes pride in protecting Indian land in 1985! I was in awe, inspired, the typical "me" reaction! After watching this movie, and listening to a few who have been through the tyranny of Indian Police, I am not sure which of my reaction is right? The one I felt then, or the one I feel right now?

I am not denying the greatness of my mother land, neither the potential to be one of the places for humanity to thrive. Pride and love for one's country is great, but not at the cost of reality. Because the moment I blind myself of reality, I loose all the opportunities to improve that can be improved!

I find answer in a sher by Mirza Ghalib..
ज़िन्दगी के सफ़र में किसी को इतना मत चाहो, के वो तुम्हारी चाहतों का कातिल, वफाओं का सौदागर बन जाये | - मिर्ज़ा ग़ालिब

I would not love my country blind folded, that it would kill my love, and deal my integrity. I'd rather love my country with open eyes, so that I do not miss upon the opportunities to make it better!

P.S.: This article represents only one side of the coin, the dark one. India has a huge positive side, that I love, and would ever do! I love my India!

Khuda ke Liye

Hey, don't worry.. It's not gonna be another movie review..

After seeing this movie, I realized why I might have labeled these posts identity.. If you have seen the movies, you will realize it immediately! The identity crisis of two youth, between what they believe and what they are made to believe..

Another common thread in these movies: the "trash can" attitude towards women. India and Pakistan have been free for more than half a century now, but are we as individuals free? Before I go to we, are the women, as our mothers, sisters, partners, are they free? Our scriptures worship them, we are taught to respect them, rather, we derive our life from them! And what about their lives? Do we let them live? I would not say, the story is same across the spectrum, but it is mostly the same. Till date, there are not many households where women are free in true nature. I myself have failed at times in living up to the ideal of respecting the one from whom I derived strength. Thanks to her, she made me realize where I was wrong! But, what about the plight of million's others? Why in one of the most democratic and developed economies of the world, the United States, do we need domestic violence help centers? Why the rich cultural traditions of South-East Asia give rise to the need of "Kiran", the South Asian women's help center on my campus?

Are we ever going to learn, that "she" is the one who gave us life, "she" is the one who gives u strength, "she" is the one who helps us live.. Do we recognize their identity?

DO WE???

Khamosh Paani..

First of all, why did I label this new series of posts with "Identity"..? I am not sure.. Might find answer in coming posts..

Has anyone of you seen this movie? What have been your remarks? I am yet digesting the movie.. And before that, the next one is going to start.. So, I will come back with both, Khamosh Paani, and Khuda ke Liye..

Till then, on personal front, Punjabi is amazing.. I am in love with that language. Rarely does it happen in life that you find the real things as good as you had imagined. It was for the first time that I heard Punjabi for an hour and a half.. Very sweet language.. Like tinkling of bells.. I would be lying if I claimed that I understood every word of it, but I did relate to every word of it..

Jo Bole So Nihal, Sat Shri Akaal..!!

(Nothing religious about it..)