She was trying to speak between violent sobs. And I was directing all my energy to my ears, struggling to comprehend her words. Three things became evident pretty soon. She was in distress. She was in a vulnerable place. And she was desperate for help. I was petrified to be on the receiving end of this 'crisis call'. To be absolutely honest, in the first few moments when all I could hear was a wailing woman, I contemplated hanging up on the pretext of not being able to hear what she said. I am not sure whether it was fear of being pulled up if the call was audited or something more meaningful that made me hang on. I would like to believe it was the latter!
She said she wanted to end her suffering. That it was getting too much to bear. I asked her to promise me that she wouldn't do anything to hurt herself. She refused. My heart sank to my toes when she told me of her plan as well as access to means for harming herself. There are knives in the kitchen, she admitted quietly. I was at a loss for words. My mind seemed to have slowed down. A voice inside me was screaming, say something! Anything! You have to save her! 'But how?' asked a smaller, more timid voice.
After what seemed like forever, I told her not to go to the kitchen as long as we were on phone together. To my immense relief, she agreed! She started to share her heart-breaking tale. I wanted to comfort her. To reassure her. Yet, I was at a complete loss of words. I probably asked some mindless questions. I can't be too sure. She said something about writing a letter to her daughter and 'ending it'. Before I could react, she hung up!
I have never been more disappointed and scared at the same time. With alarm bells ringing in my head, it seemed as though every single nerve in my body was taut with tension. My manager suggested I call her again. She rejected the call. I tried again. And this time she picked it. Relief, nervousness, fear...I felt it all at once - electrifying my very being. I tried to keep this out of my voice, and requested her to stay with me. 'Don't talk if you don't want to,' I said, 'but stay on line with me please.' Again, to my immense relief, she agreed.
The 20 odd minutes that followed, till we connected her with her mental health worker, were... I don't really have words for what they were. I wanted her to know how much I wanted her to live. But I didn't know how to. She said she was scared. I wanted to say 'so am I'. Instead, I tried being strong for her. Tried distracting her and 'holding' her. Every few seconds I repeated her name and asked if she was there. Every time I asked her to take a deep breath, I did too. I wonder what that was like for her. Was she feeling frustrated by my feeble attempts? Or was she grateful to have another person with her in this? Either way, I am immensely grateful to her for letting me be with her. For my sake more than hers. Because I know how badly this would have haunted me if I did not have the reassurance that she was in safe hands.
That was then. I have no way of knowing what happened after. Did she get the much needed support? Did things get any better for her? I don't know. But I am hoping that she knows, that she is not alone. Then again, I wonder, what was my desperation all about. Was it because I didn't want her to kill herself on 'my watch'? Or because I genuinely wanted her to live. Either way, it was a draining experience. And I am glad she called in.

losing Dennis

It's been over 4 years since Dennis died. He was just a little over 10 at that time. The good thing is, I can talk about him happily. Reminisce the years we spent with him. The not-so-happy part is…I still miss him soooo much!! Life would never be lonely if he was around. He'd keep me on my toes. He'd go crazy wagging his tail every time I returned home. He'd never let any moment be dull…

Sometimes I think of adopting a dog again. Now that the intense grief has subsided, maybe I am ready? But then I think of the time I lost Dennis. And the years that followed. I still cry when I think of that. I know so many people who have had numerous pets over the years. I am not saying they don't feel the pain when they lose a pet. But I can't imagine putting myself through it all over again. Then again…sometimes I wonder…maybe the unconditional love that a dog gives you makes the pain worthwhile? Maybe we need that sort of pain to be able to value love?

Losing Dennis was like losing a part of my life…a big furry chunk of it. I was in the 8th grade when we brought him home. It wasn't always easy having him around…but it was always fun. He was everything a dog should be - happy, friendly, loving, forgiving and always hungry :) He was probably what all people should be too!! Pretty soon, he became an indispensable part of my family and my life. Every morning, be greeted by his big goofy grin and a vigorous wagging of tail…if by chance I slept a little longer than usual he'd be on top of me…sniffing at my face and walking over me till I gave up and rolled out of bed. Till date, I hate waking up…but it wasn't so bad when Dennis woke me…I just couldn't be mad at him :)

A few years later, when my brother and I went off to college, I know for a fact that he played a Big role in helping my mum cope with the empty nest. He was the son who didn't abandon her. He was always there, no matter what. But then he wasn't. He got really sick. And the bleak possibility that he could die started materialising. It felt like the most awful time.

I still miss him so much.

A plane with over 200 people on board has been missing for two weeks. News reports today say that it has crashed and that there are no survivors. My heart goes out to the family and friends of the passengers and crew of MH 370.

It is a terrible tragedy. But there is something worse off than this. And that is what we have become. A couple of days after the aircraft disappeared, there was speculation regarding what could have gone wrong. Theories ranging from hijacking to alien abductions. Without a shred of evidence, news agencies and "experts" were making allegations about passengers' mental health and intent. The pilot and other crew on board were not spared either. I find that deeply disturbing. Yes, one tends to wonder what could have gone wrong in the face of such a mysterious disappearance. But making assumptions in the public sphere..tainting people's characters with such ease... What a sorry state to be in! In all probability, the crew and the people on board would have tried their very best to survive...to escape the fate that awaited them. But it seems as though sensationalism wins at the cost of sensitivity. What fun is it to imagine that a technical flaw occurred and the plane went down despite the pilot's best efforts? Nah! Sounds so much more exciting when you hint at sabotage. Ugh! Where is our decency? Our ability to face uncertainty by giving a little benefit of doubt!

Change

Change. I don't know another word that brings up so much dread in me. Death, maybe. But that too, is about change. 

Like most people, I hate it when things change. Or rather, I hate when things are about to change. Sudden change I can deal with (or so I would like to believe). But change that has weeks or even months leading up to it drives me crazy. 'Coz it gives me so much time to picture 'possibilities' in my head. And there are a zillion plus one possibilities always. At Least! 

Marriage is one such change I'm headed towards. And it scares me. All the things that I say "won't be me"...what if it IS me? What if it's me being grumpy and frustrated? What if it's me resenting my husband? What if it's me losing out on my personhood? What if it's me with that feeling of absolute lack of control over my life?!?! Paranoia? Perhaps. Only time will tell? Maybe not. I'd like to believe I can guide the course my fate takes. Look at me getting all fatalistic! But negativity apart, I do believe that life is up for a big upheaval. An inevitable one. One that I have chosen for myself. One that I've fought for :) It can't be all that bad. And like all change, I'm guessing I will learn to live with it. Learn to love it.