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Anxiety. Depression. I am choosing to write about this because I think it is something worth talking about, simply because more people should come out and talk about it.
Depression is probably a synonym for dark. A place where one feels like one has hit rock bottom. Rock bottom in such a pitying way that the culmination of everything till now, appears to be shadow of disbelief. Everything, all the achievements, all friendships, all joys come a screeching halt. And all that is left is void. I am talking about that kind of anxiety.
I am talking of that kind of anxiety where all you feel somedays is just a trance. A trance of irrationality. When standing at the edge of a train track, you suddenly feel, what if?
Where days and nights are somehow interwoven like threads in a rustic shawl on a weaver’s loom. You pull one string tighter and something else ruptures, spoiling the pattern at the other end. When you are a tightly wound knot of ecstasy and despair, of nightmares and epiphanies.
I am talking of soiled dreams and incoherent realities. I am talking of nights where you run from pillar to post looking for solace in absolute strangers. Looking for an answer to questions they wouldn’t dare ask.
Anxiety. I am talking about the static in your head. I am talking about the disease that is constantly eating at your innards and chewing at your heart. I am talking of the torment in your soul. The anger in your eyes. The hate in your voice. How can they say it’s all in your head? When all you have there is noise?
Anxiety and Lucidity. As alternates to an ever spinning coin.
I am talking of that kind of anxiety where friends are brief spells of light. And then it’s gone. And then they are gone.
I am talking of that kind anxiety where you tightly cling to your friends, trusting their presence as the only proof of reality. I am talking of days of asking them the same questions and they, telling you the same answers. With infinite patience. I am talking of your anxiety and their lucidity.
I am talking of your toxic broth of shadows and spells and their balms of laughter and irrelevance. Spinning and spinning. Till you relegate the noise to the back of your mind. The mind spilling with peels of rotten sense of love. Rotten sense of self. The self that once was and now isn’t anywhere.
They say that you have to fight your own demons. It is you who matters. Nothing else and no one else. But here I am talking of that anxiety that wakes up by your side in the morning and goes to sleep with you at night.
I am talking of those brief moments of hallucination, when in the midst of a clutter of emails, distraught meetings and multiple tabs on the laptop, your world suddenly stops, pauses, inhales, and then you draw a blank. A blank where you’re choking in broad daylight. When the only thing you can do is not grab the chair and cry out aloud. In the middle of a busy office.
You exhale. Tell yourself, you’re fine. You got this. Blink a dozen times. Blink the floodgates, shut it to submission. One feet in front of another. One day at a time.
Anxiety is when you wake up after months of stupor, look yourself in the mirror and see a stranger staring back. With bags under your eyes, matted hair, an electrified brain and still feel a lingering set of eyes looking into yours trying to see if you would flinch. Flinch and break the moment. And you do. You break the spell, feeling the hurt and hating yourself for feeling it with that much passion.
Anxiety is when your love, your hate, your lust, your passion, your sanity and your hurt get intermingled, fused into one big mass of indistinguishable ache lodged in your heart, snowballing into the pit that they call rock bottom. Falling, spiraling, drowning, sinking lower and lower, inch by inch, blow by blow. That is what I call anxiety.
Published here earlier.
f you or anyone you know is feeling suicidal, here are some of the helplines available in India. Please call.
Aasra, Mumbai: 022-27546669
Sneha, Chennai: 044-2464 0050
Lifeline, Kolkata: 033-2474 4704
Sahai, Bangalore: 080–25497777
Roshni, Hyderabad: 040-66202000, 040-66202001
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Manojita loves to write alongside her regular 9-5. Flair for language, poetry, art etc is what sustains her and often inspires her to be creative. She loves storytelling and is passionate about words. read more...
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People say that women are the greatest enemies of women. I vehemently disagree. It is the patriarchal mindset that makes women believe in the wrong ideology.
The entire world celebrates International Women’s Day on March 8, 2024. It should be a joyful day, but unfortunately, not all women are entitled to this privilege, as violence against women is at its peak. The experience of oppression pushes many women to choose freedom. As far as patriotism is concerned, feminism is not a cup of tea in this society.
What happens when a woman decides to stand up for herself? Does this world easily accept the decisions of women in this society? What inspires them to be free of the clutches of the oppression that women have faced for ages? Most of the time, women do not get the chance to decide for themselves. Their lives are always at the mercy of someone, which can be their parents, siblings, husband, or children.
In some cases, women do not feel the need to make any decisions. They are taught to obey the patriarchal system, which makes them believe that they are right. In my family, I was never taught to make decisions on my own. It was always my parents who bought dresses and all that I needed.
14 years after her last feature film Dhobi Ghat, storyteller extraordinaire comes up with her new film, Laapataa Ladies, a must watch.
*Some spoilers alert*
Every religion around the world dictates terms to women. The onus is always on women to be ‘modest’ and cover their faces and bodies so men can’t be “tempted”, rather than on men to keep their eyes where they belong and behave like civilized beings. So much so that even rape has been excused on the grounds of women eating chowmein or ‘men will be men’. I think the best Hindi movie retort to this unwanted advice on ‘akeli ladki khuli tijori ki tarah hoti hai’ (an alone woman is like an open jewellery box) came from Geet in Jab We Met – Kya aap gyan dene ke paise lete hain kyonki chillar nahin hain mere paas.
The premise of Laapataa Ladies is beautifully simple – two brides clad in the ghunghat that covers their identity get mixed up on a train. Within this Russian Doll, you get a comedy of errors, a story of getting lost, a commentary on patriarchy’s attitude towards women, a mystery, and a tale of finding oneself, all in one. Done with a mostly light touch that has you laughing and nodding along.
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