I heard the world laugh at me.
When I would sit at one corner of my dusted home of dark,
they would pull me away, and ask me to sit beneath
the fake lights they had created. I would always tell them
that it’s not the light that I seek, but a companion
that I yearn for – a person, who’d listen to me –
who’d tell me that it’s okay – that someday,
somewhere, maybe not in some parallel universe
but in the same set of galaxies that we exist in now,
I shall be happy too – and they’d laugh when
I say this. I’d ask them why this seems so
Strange to them, and they’d always tell me,
‘It exists just in your head.’
Over years of having lived in this world
(Or I am sorry, of having just survived),
I have learnt that it’s not the voice that
We lack sometimes, but the words,
And not the words, often, but the voice,
And if I choose to tell about myself,
I’ve been bereft of both. No, no, no-
I am not mute or deaf, and I am not even dead;
Maybe, all that I know is to feel, to sense,
To perceive, the pain that I undergo;
Maybe, it’s me who doesn’t know,
How to elucidate it in words:
The plight you go through when
You look at the flowers in your garden
And try to adore them, but all that you
Can think of is them being laid in your
Graveyard; when you wish for the winds
To carry away your sadness but all that
They do is to leave a bit more of pain
As they touch your soul and pass by;
When you feel there’s certain lump in
your throat while you cry and that you
wish to swallow it but cannot, no matter
how much water you consume, because
maybe that’s the only way you feel
the mental ache physically as well;
when you are crying within the crowd
of humans and no one wants to notice
it, for all that they want you, is to smile
when the tears dry and forget the wounds
when they heal, but they’d never teach you how.
Pain doesn’t need words.
Pain doesn’t need voice.
All that it needs is a bit of love –
A bit of compassion, care and concern.
There’d be people who’d tell you
That depression is not real – that it’s
Just a theory infecting your brain –
Don’t believe what they say, my friend;
Think of yourself as a wilted flower:
You aren’t dead. You just need a bit
more of nutrients, water and love,
to bloom again, to smile, again.
I know how it feels to be locked up
Inside home for days, to be enclosed
In the periphery not just of your house
But your thoughts as well;
I understand how
You feel when the pain springs up –
how you want
To run away from the chaos
this world presents to you right now –
even if that pain strikes you a bit,
remember my friend, you don’t have to quit.
Breathe – breathe again, until your
Heartbeat calms down and tells you
To live your life livelily again;
Share – share your thoughts with the
People who care, for I know that they’d
Not judge you even if you are depressed;
Pause – pause for a while, and realize
That life’s not a race and it’s absolutely
Okay to move at your own pace.
Remind – remind yourself, that all of it
Would be over soon: the pain, the anxiety,
The fear you have right now – all of it would
End soon.
I know it’d never be easy, to fight,
To survive, in this war against
Mental illness; but I also know that
It’d never be impossible;
There would be obstacles that you’d
Stumble upon, and however
Difficult it maybe, my friend,
Remember I’d be always there for you.
I’d remind you how you are not
Supposed to be judged for being depressed;
I’d remind you how this sadness
Is not your personality trait but
A momentary condition you’d get over with;
I’d remind you how you deserve
Happiness from the whole of universe
I promise, my friend, I’d remind you
That life is what you have,
And that’s what makes you powerful.