It is okay. It happens. Reach out when you cannot handle.

Dear Paru,

As they say, it's all in mind and it is critical to have a control over your mind.

"I know that you love strawberries. But if you stick with only strawberries, chances are that you might miss out better things in life."

It was such a powerful thought put in a simple line. The doctor was trying to convince her why she should be ready to change a few approaches she had towards life without thinking or questioning.

The young doctor is very straight forward, a no-nonsense kind of guy: "Let's not reconstruct stories. Everybody has stories, it is your approach that matters and how you want to build your story."

The fact is that she really has no story, or at least as I see it. She cannot pin down her current state of mind to one specific incident or incidents. As people keep saying, "it is just that you have no real issues in life ." They are true - most of us have no real issues in life. She is in perfect control of her life. She is blessed with a loving family, wonderful set of friends, and a job she always dreamt about. Yet, she has been feeling awfully disturbed in the last few days. She is not missing anyone or anything in life. Her cycles are regular, so she cannot blame it on her periods. But still she was feeling a void which nothing, no one can fill up. She saw herself plummeting into a void, inside a big hole and she was struggling to climb out of it.

She saw many hands, genuine affectionate faces reaching out to help her, but somehow she was searching for somebody else, she was waiting for an unknown someone to come and rescue me. And it frustrated her further that "the unknown someone" does not really exist. It is just her and only her.

Sat 11 a.m.: She cannot bear herself, the house cannot bear her. She hires a Uber. She decides impulsively that she needs help. By the time she reaches psychiatrist's clinic, doctor is gone. She enjoys her drive, chats up with the kind driver who is driving her. He tells her stories of his trips, his passengers. He talks to her about crazy and inconsiderate driving in Kochi. They discuss about Metro. She wonders whether the self obsessed egoistic Malayalees would ever want to replace their Audi's and Mercedez with Metro, and whether it will really serve the purpose. Suddenly a car tries to creep in from the wrong side and hit their car. She watches the driver with surprise as he patiently talks and apologises to the other person. It is really not his mistake, yet he apologises. The other guy shouts, abuses and gets away. Curiously she asks him, "why did you let him go"? He tells her, " Now I am driving my guest and I am responsible for not only your safety, but also for delivering a tension free experience. If I had not apologized, it would have ended in an half an hour fight, and it would have just spoiled your purpose and mood." She thanks him for that simple powerful lesson.

On the way, they stop at Girl's Care Home which is in the same compound as juvenile home. Around 40 or 45 girls varying between 3 and 14. S They are friendly, happy, cheerful within the walled, not so clean compound and big grilled entrance which is locked. They open the lock for her. A guest excites the kids. When a guest comes in, he / she brings with him an entire new world to them. She spends some time talking to them. She asks superintendent if she can spend some time every week with them. Superintendent is clear, it cannot be random. We need to work out a schedule and agenda. Random, selfish interventions will have the reverse effect. She feels happy about the response. There are checks and some protection for these children. They are happy, and it amazes her that they can be really be happy within walled, locked, small compound. She walks out promising herself to return back with more clarity.

She feels happy traveling like that without any particular agenda, but discovering new perspectives and meanings on the go . She reaches home and is faced with the same vacuum she experienced earlier. She cannot bear it. She looks at the mess around, but don't gather energy to clean up. Amidst the heap of mess, she crawls inside her blanket and try to concentrate on William Darlymple's "From the Holy Mountain" which she had abandoned mid way. It further depresses her and she forces herself to sleep.

She waits for the night to hit to sleep more. Go for another cup of tea. Suddenly realises, the whole day, she has been surviving on two cups of tea. She thinks dance workout might help her bounce back. She laughs it out, dances away her blues. But back home, she finds sulky again. So she visits psychiatrist again. Till 4 p.m., she waits patiently. Her heart reaches out to so many special kids there in their own beautiful, innocent world; their parents stressed, tired, but hopeful. Some shrieking cries and odd notices pierce her heart, but she keeps her eyes, ears and heart open to everything around her. She wants to feel it, experience it. She does not feel disturbed anymore.

Now she is in double thoughts - whether she should really meet the doctor. After seeing the real patients , she starts wondering if her problems are her imaginations? But this has happened to her before a few times. Even though it is not frequent, and it lasts for only a day or two and she bounce back with more energy and joy, she does not want to go through that. There are times when it has been worse. She has felt it in her body - body suddenly transforming itself into a ball of hot mass. She used to sweat, fret, big lumps choking her throat and chest. A part of her wants to survive the moment, a part of her wants to end it there. Two or three minutes, everything subsides. Everything is normal again. She does not understand what she has gone through and why.

She tries to give a context to her mood swings. She tries to tell the Doctor about job pressures, travels, a few stress points she has been trying to tackle at home and office - she tries to think of more excuses. Doctor bluntly cut her short and asks her to stop cock and bull story. He says problems are not important, and she need not compare under estimate or over estimate her problems. He tells her that they will not waste time on reconstructing the problems, but rather spend time on working out how they approach it. He asks if she is okay with some mild mood stabilizers. She decide to give him full control. She tells her, "You know the best." Then he tells her to work on changing her approaches towards situations. She protests, she tries to justify. He senses her agitation and resistance. She is not convinced why she should change. He tells her, "I am not questioning your approach. I know that you absolutely love strawberry. I am only offering you a new flavour. I want you to try this out for a month. You have to give time until you get used to the taste. You give time until you discover if there are any added benefits you get out of it. Don't question, don't think. Just try and experience a different flavour. After a month, if you still feel strawberry is better, you can stick to it. Can we agree on this?". She is now convinced and decides to give it a try.

She walks out, put down a list of where and when she should avoid strawberries and try fresh flavors, completely guided by a clear set of principles and new perspectives.


Bottom line: It might be just a day's issue. But if you cannot handle mood swings and its better to reach out for help. Perspectives always help. It could be stress. It could be screwed up food habits. It could be about not getting enough time to spend with friends or nature. Whatever it is, when you cannot identify or handle it alone, do take help. Each moment is precious. Live it. Love it.

Let's explore beyond motherhood ...

Dear Paru, (Saving this up to that day when you will grow up to comprehend this)
Time flies. I still remember how doctors shoved a bloody, unclean you close to my eyes while I was still on the cesarean bed as soon as they separated us. I vividly remember the way they described you "here is your stupid girl" and I was thanking Papa with tears in my eyes for giving me a daughter. No offense to boys, but I was so damn obsessed with the idea of a girl. I wanted to call you Prakrithi,, Pari for short. You were part of me many years before you were born and I could not think of having a boy instead. Throughout my pregnancy, I begged, negotiated, bargained with nature, Papa, super power to make you a girl.

On your 58th day, I had to resume work and my heart bled with guilt and jealousy when my co-sister had to feed you for a few days until you got accustomed to my new office routine. For a few months, I would bundle you up in a pink blanket early morning 7:30 a.m. and drop the parcel at my sister's and collect the parcel back late in the evening after office hours. You were an absolute doll and people adored your bright smile, easy going ways. You soon learned to adjust to our new routine. But every time, I came back from office, you flashed a smile as if we were uniting after long years, as if you got back something you thought you had lost forever. And every morning, it tore me to leave you back home. Your blabber and laughter kept ringing in my ears and it took some time to really ignore it during office hours.

I felt guilty about the time I spent away from you, and I always tried to convince myself, it is all for you and some day you will realise it. I always felt I was forever coming up short when it comes to doing enough, giving enough and caring enough for you. I could not get it out of my head that I could not feed you in those early years. I envied my sisters who had an option to be full time super mom for your sisters and you. And it hurt me that you preferred them more to me. I was an immature, insecure mother.

From a little cuddly adorable doll, you went thru stages of your growing up - not so cute ages with your uneven rabbit teeth, sulky habits, seemingly lost at times, and I found myself embarrassed, explaining/ justifying for the lack of self-confidence which you would sometimes exhibit. I held myself responsible for all that perhaps. There was an immense pressure on me to present you at your best in front of people. There was also a time when I had to stay away from you for 1 full year, it broke my hurt when you would refuse to speak to me on phone, when you seemed okay and managed your daily chores without me, when you did not miss me much or at least did not express it.I felt miserable, dejected and depressed especially so, when I saw happy responsible moms around. I felt miserable when Nandu used to cry at the mention of Neethuma taking up a job. I felt so unwanted that you did not feel the same way about your mother. It would also tear open my heart when you called and asked if you can wear that red dress to school for Christmas, the red dress which you would be normally wearing at home.

But through all these events, I have come to realize that it is not necessary to prove my motherhood to myself, you or others and nor for you to prove yourself to me. You and I are part of same existence, yet different. I just facilitated your birth, as Mother, I lay no bigger claims on your life. I don't have to be guilty of being myself and I don't have to really change myself to be the best mother you can boast of. Being your mom does not mean I will be perfect always: I have once forgetten your lunch, I'm on my phone too much, I lose my temper, I don't find enough time to take care of you the way moms will be. But be sure that all those do not make me a lesser Mother. And I also accept that, when you don't miss me much when you spend away from me, is not a measure of your feeling towards me. I realise your love from those subtle moments when you have covered me up in front of people, when you have been so independent and taken care of yourself when I did not have enough time for you and when you connected with me in the moments you could not replace me with anyone else.

On this day, I want to tell you that, I don't want to be and I will never be a typical mother to you. I want to be a friend, a facilitator, a teacher, a student to you. I want to be an inspiration to you as much as you are an inspiration to me. I want to get out of a mother's expectation from a child. I don't want to coddle you, but rather see you tread your own path. I want us to work on our own balances in life, and just give that support to each other if we ever tend to tumble.

And in course of time, we will understand what being a mother or being a daughter is all about, without really defining it, explaining it or proclaiming it. It is a subtle and natural thing as natural as breathing. After your birth, I have really understood how difficult a daughter I have been. Yet I don't regret. For the same reason, I don't really want to take control of you, define for you the rights and wrongs and try on perfecting you. I just want to accept you as you are, encourage you to do your own things, inspire you with my own experiences on what you should do or not to do in order to minimise hurt in life. I don't want you perhaps to repeat the same mistakes I did in order to derive your lessons. I have already learned those lessons the hard way and when you are ready, I will share them with you so that you don’t have to go through the hurt all over again. I want to be to you what Amana has been for me - always there when I wanted her, never interfering or possessive or demanding. Even I stray, I knew she will be right there to accept me without questioning or judging. If she had been over protective, I would have fallen out with her by now. Though I have done many costly mistakes in life, I am proud I made it so far, survived many lone hard battles, and through each battle I discovered more of me which I would not have if I had a very normal, protected life in childhood and adulthood. Experiences will hurt you, but it will always empower you. You will admire yourself for the mistakes you have survived, lessons you have learned from them and power you have derived from them, to not trying, not exploring and not discovering. Perhaps only thing you should try and avoid is hurting people in your circle of love, minimise the effect of consequences on them.

The bottom line - I don't want to look up to you as a daughter, but an equal individual, a mentor, a guide, and my best friend. Let's together tread new paths, discover life and accept each other without setting rules or expectations. I admire you for being independent, more matured than me, for being practical and taking decisions, not being so emotional and expressive - and all these are opposite to what I am. I admire you for your dancing skills, but I no more envy I cannot dance as gracefully as you. I no more wish you develop an inclination for reading or writing like me. What you are and how you are now no more make me doubtful, insecure, hurt or apprehensive. Remember, I will love you for what you are and it will be never for what I expect you to be.

I really wish we will grow beyond mother daughter relationship, and be together and have wonderful time ahead as best friends and individuals who draw strength from each other.