The Physical Pain Of Bereavement

The pain of bereavement is not restricted to just the insides of your head. It travels all over your body. You feel it in the pit of your stomach, you feel the heaviness in your chest and you feel it on your lower back. It's like carrying a ton of bricks that you never wanted to hold in the first place.

Therefore therapy doesn't work. I realised this very quickly, two months into my grief to be precise. I had to bid goodbye to my very sweet lady therapist after eight weeks. Talking about it, wasn't helping. It was doing the exact opposite!

An illness I thought I had gotten rid off, came back to me with full force. That's grief. When you try and suppress it with forced laughter and piles of work, it comes back to haunt you as a painful disease. My colleague and work mentor, Shina warned me about this from the moment she saw me. I'm a living testament of her warning, "The pain needs a place to go. If you don't release it, it will eventually sit inside you and kill you".

I can't live for my child, unless I learn to live for myself. "You can't rush the process. After a year, you can't beat yourself up, asking why do I still feel so low?" adviced Mary, another work mentor, I look upto. It will take days, months and years, to feel "normal". This is my "new normal" now.

My husband's death broke my child and me. There's no undoing that damage. My child is always anxious and insecure. He keeps asking his grandparents and me, if I'll disappear at work, like his father. He expects me to not come back from work, just like his father. And he expects, that I will forget him and choose work over him, just like his father. 

I don't know how to fix my child, because I don't know how to fix myself. No team outings, no boozy sessions with colleagues and no amount of holidays can make me forget. My late husband slips into my head, sneakily and without warning. 

I thought of him when I went through an MRI machine last week. I recalled that he went through the same machine, one month before he died. I recalled walking with him and the baby at a local mall in Powai, on a Sunday afternoon, just before knocking off to sleep, two nights ago.

I'm trying my best to uproot these memories from my head, but they always come back to haunt me. These memories don't evoke joy anymore. They remind me of a life I once had and can never experience again.

I've been told to get married from the moment I've sprinkled my late husband's ashes away, into an obscure looking tank in Bombay. "Get married, you're too young", "Get married, for the child's sake", "Get married and you will be happy again" and the icing on the cake, "Did you not check your horoscope before marrying this boy? This tragedy could have been avoided then" The last remark was made by a fellow widow!

I've watched "Beauty and the Beast", more than 40 times as a child and have scoured through every last Mills and Boons novel in Madras Gymkhana Club's library. To call myself, a romantic fool would be the understatement of the decade! My relationship with my late husband was a Bollywood movie. I'll just leave it at that. 

Pain, it's completely physical. I don't know how to fix it, but I will fight it. I will stand up to it and I will push back. In the fight and the war against pain, I will always win. 

I've been cut up and heartbroken ever since my husband passed, but I've never allowed myself to feel depressed. In the first week of his passing I folded my hands across my chest and walked shakily through the hilly roads of Chandivali, wondering, "Who will protect me now?"

Close to 12 months since he died, I realise, "I, me and myself". I'm the only saviour I need, I'm beauty and the beast, I'm Rapunzel and her charming prince. I'm my own knight in shining armour. 

My Big Brother

My big brother,

Is like no other,

Growing up with him was both interesting and scary,

I was always a little wary,

Of all his whims and moods,

He has the most profound taste, when it comes to food,

Zomato and Swiggy have a ball, when he's in town,

He can bring the roof down,

With the everyday festivity of food and drinks,

In two blinks,

We become round, happy souls again,

And our clothes begin to strain,

While all of us lounge around and sleep with the food overdose,

Big B rushes to the gym, looking groggy and morose, 

That's his secret to always looking young and pretty,

While the rest of us remain round as ever, but hopefully witty,

If I have to be honest, I've taken him for granted,

But some of my best ideas, he has planted,

He is awesome, 

Under his guidance, you're sure to blossom,

A word of caution though, the man is full of ammo,

So try to keep up and don't be slow,

Today is his birthday,

So let's all wish him, on his special day.

Ambivalent

The perks of living at home,

Equates to being the emporer of Rome,

I doubt Ceaser, made as many demands,

As Riaan baby, wringing his grandparents' hands,

Such a pleasure living with mummy and daddy,

After bidding adieu to my husband's motionless body,

If this dreadful year, has a silver lining,

It has to be my parents, who encourage me to keep climbing,

No crisis is too large,

All you have to do is fearlessly take charge,

Look at pain in the face,

And command it to vanish without a trace,

All is right with the world,

Despite the father of my child, being in the netherworld,

I'm no longer a ghost,

I'd rather raise a toast,

To all that has passed and is yet to come,

So why be glum,

When you can choose to be ambivalent instead 

The Dynamic Duo

It took me sometime to warm up to the boy,

But now he's my favourite person to annoy,

The woman is a diva,

She's entered my heart and crossed complicated borders, without so much as a visa,

Together they are a force to reckon with,

A dynamic duo, with whom I don't need to politely wordsmith,

We're loud, we're inappropriate,

We scandlize families, that look prim, proper and quite appropriate,

You probably don't want to sit next to us for dinner or lunch,

Or maybe you do, because our words pack quite a punch,

We oscillate between reality and fiction,

We speak without unabashed restriction,

When we unite there is magic in the air,

I even turned my boring black hair,

Electric blue, 

To look brand new,

Sho and Kiron, Kiron and Sho,

My love for them just shows. 

A Letter To My Son

My darling Riaan,

In the past 11 months, mumma has been called "brave", "courageous" and "inspirational". We've just lost your father and we're re-building our life from scratch. I feel far from "brave", "courageous" or "inspirational". I live for you. You are my glimmer of hope and will continue to be, until my dying breath.

In one hour, it's your father's birthday. His name was Rajarshi Bhattacharyya and he would have been 36 years old today. I'm not sure what you will remember of him, when you are 36 and have kids of your own. Just remember, that he loved you and he didn't want to leave you or me. It was just his time to go. God has some maniacal plan for you and me. I'm not sure what it is, at this point in time. 

Know this, mumma will never leave you. I'm not going to drop dead in the middle of a working day. Instead, I'll drop my career in a heartbeat for you. I've done it in the past, just to give birth to you and I'll do it in the future, without a moment's hesitation.

I love you, more than your father. This is the hard reality of our life. Something I've already digested and something you will learn to live with and overcome. You will be a better man. You will make wiser decisions. I'll make sure of it. 

Ever since your father died, I've developed a strong liking for the great big outdoors. Long walks, hour long swims and lounging in your grandparents' balcony are my favourite things to do. Nature heals, like no human being can, because nature is non-judgmental and has a numbing effect, to the volcano of pain bubbling inside you. 

I'm almost healed now, thanks to nature. Almost. I saw a golden ray of light, pass through a dense tree cover this morning and it instantly reminded me of you. You have been that ray for me, ever since I became a widow at 34. There is no me, without you. 

I'm so grateful to God for having become your mumma. I love you maniacally, my darling child. You're the most handsome, almost 4 year old, I've ever laid my eyes on. 

I want you to work very, very hard and make something of yourself in this world. You became the man of this house at 2.11 years old. I know that's a very heavy burden to bear, but you've got this, because I've got you. 

Together, we can do anything. The world is our Oyster. So let's kill it sweetpea!

Love,

Your mumma 

Shina

I always knew the girl was special,

The perfect vessel,

To dump all your life problems on,

She listens intently, without a single yawn,

Her heart's in the right place,

Her personality is ace,

Strong and confident on the outside,

An empath and a deep thinker on the inside,

Who knew, she would be more than a friend,

After a decade, she has decided to lend,

Her ears and her problem solving skills,

Sans a fuss or frills,

A teacher, a friend and a boss,

My personal life may have taken a royal toss,

But under Shina's guiding light,

Everything seems bright,

Just like her luminous smile,

That she flashes once in a while,

She has opened doors for me,

And my little bee,

Just when I thought my life had ended,

She took me under her wings and reassured me, that life has merely taken a bend,

There is no end,

Only lots of love, light and positively to send,

Towards the universe and my inner self,

I can always be myself,

With Shina, my one and only,

Superboss, who makes me feel far from lonely.