one of the many meanings of trauma happens to be a deeply distressing or disturbing experience. you see, words find true meaning when you experience them. i’d be honest here. i didn’t know what it really meant until i lost my father in november last year. after a briefly prolonged fight with the virus that continues to ravage lives out there, i lost the man who would still see me as a baby every time we met. he was perfectly healthy, with no co-morbidities, a term i learned from the doctor treating him. so when he did experience trouble breathing and the oxygen levels started to falter, we took him to the hospital thinking that it would be a short visit.
a few weeks later, i had instead been handed a manual to handle trauma. deeply distressing and disturbing? one could say that.
but to handle a mother who wasn’t crying, an elder brother who found himself guilty and kept crying and an ailing five-year-old nephew, i did what i knew best. i kept quiet. while we are it, it’d be terrible if i do not mention the few friends that i have here who were a constant bedrock of support. the fact that they came to the hospital as soon as they heard, without caring about a raging pandemic, is testimony to a bond that i can never perhaps be enough grateful for.
alright, we are back to the part of me becoming quiet. i did not know how to handle trauma for quite some time. if you ask me, most people around us do not. there is an unsaid hush-hush about the reality of it all. trauma exists in a plane beyond our willingness to suspend disbelief.
heroes in capes defeating giant sea monsters? believable. dealing with trauma? wait, is that the name of the new secret device apple is working on?
trauma is not search engine optimized. it has no deep-pocketed producers. or a sugar daddy if you will. dealing with it happens on the inside is what has been implied. but you see, that’s where things kind of deviate. the devastation that my family and i had to be a part of wasn’t personal. the day i put it out there in words, messages flew in from strangers for whom the trauma had been equally personal. almost all of them had needed an outlet and had found only that void i was so close to getting inside.
it was a tragedy that wasn’t on silent by default.
as we wait for the third wave, there is only this feeling of helplessness. that the trauma would be far greater than what we are capable of handling as a collective. in fact, i ended up writing a little something a few months ago.
for the first time in a
long time, i howled and i
cried while talking about
grief last night. because every time
before this one,
there’s been moments of lows
and there’s been people trying
to push me to shed it all.
losing a parent to a pandemic wasn’t
my idea of experiencing loss and life,
you see. for all i know, i was born
in privilege, soaking in it while i wrote
about billionaires giving birth to billionaires
and the poor only existed
in kind donations that make us
feel good about our contribution to the world.
that they are tax saving instruments is a
comforting after-thought.
but what do you do when everything goes right
and nothing seems to?
stories of hope, perseverance and
sticking it out are all there,
reaching you through
carefully curated algorithms
in the extension
of our machine gun hearts.
everything is just fine, you need a weekend off
is what
emi satisfying capitalism will have you believe,
but how do you fill this void that has now grown into a
crater of quiet?
you don’t want to talk about it, nobody seems to know how;
did you watch the cat video
the stranger sent to you last night?
or maybe it is sweat-filled action that you need,
a bit of online and a lot of otherwise to get you off
this sadness that people think orgasms will cure.
serotonin, dopamine and endorphins;
you need a lot of sex and a spoonful of
tender coconut ice cream to get those running.
after all, isn’t that what all good writers do?
romanticise, romanticise, romanticise
until they have enough audience asking
for an ending that would satisfy the sadist that exists in each,
for wishful fantasies are good for
whatsapp chats.
human stories, the real ones,
the ones they claim to be your best,
must always end in tears.
see the angst there? if you can relate, i am sorry. it would mean being able to relate to a giant loss and the explicable hollowness that follows. the superficial band-aid of chal raha hai that we have put over our conversations like unsaid terms and conditions doesn’t much help.
what does help is talking about it when you are ready. again, not a psychologist, and unsolicited advice may not be the right way to deal with trauma. but a little going back to the things you love, or they would have loved for you to do never hurt anyone. unless of course you love snorting coke. if you are too young for that joke, unsubscribe. now!
attaching below a few photos that i clicked during my recent trip to my mother’s native place.
this isn’t debroop has got talent. the photos aren’t extraordinary. but you see, i got back to doing one thing that i loved doing. baba had bought me a camera because i loved clicking pictures. he didn’t understand photography just like he didn’t understand literature. but he wanted me to write books because that’s what i said would give me happiness.
processing trauma for me has become a way of going back. staring back almost. staring back into the eyes of a child with large-scale dreams. for you, it could be finding that one lost guitar or an album that has seen only cobwebs these last few years. i wouldn’t know.
trauma, after all, is personal. :)
Dear Deb,
It would be a lie to say I have the capability to even fathom your agony, let alone understand it. However, I have had conceived trauma earlier and I can relate to being in the void.
Trauma is personal, so is one's mechanism to cope and heal. May your soma be full of strength and your heart with enough warmth.
Sending sunflowers your way🌻,
Y.
Hello I hope you're doing well. Your mail couldn't have come at a better time. The poem touched my heart and made me sad as most of us can see parts of ourselves in there. I possibly cannot imagine the range of emotions you've had to go through and still do however, i do hope for the very best. Sending my fullest love and hugs. Thankyou for writing this made me feel less alone today ❤