For you Sushmita ( from Keerti)

I do not know where you are, but with each passing day I miss you. It is a long journey that we shared, from those early days in Tilonia in the seventies and early eighties, through your later battles with your fragmented self.   It was in the early days of your illness, when Amit and I got a call from Aunty asking us to come to Jaipur. We drove through the night and reached Barkatnagar in the wee hours of the morning. We found you huddled in a corner of your room, almost in a foetus position. You were afraid of each object in your room. They had taken on life. Very soon, it began to feel as if some kind of extra terrestrial invasion had blown your world apart, and fragmented it into a zillion smithereens. Your world now existed of codes. Each gesture, each colour, number or movement had a message for you. I remember you asking me "Why are you wearing blue? Are you trying to say something to me? It just went on an don as you tried to share the several meanings that numbers, object and events had taken on. It was endless, the battle to preserve your fragile self through the onslaught of this new codified world and coupled with the numbing bombardment of allopathic medication. Yet you withstood it. I am in complete awe.   I remember how Amit and I worked out a structure for each hour of your day… I had never realized how long a day is, until then. It was our meager attempt to provide scaffolding for you…. a structure to guide you through the many dark and unfamiliar alleys of your day; something for you to hold on to. I was very moved at your discipline and the effort you made to follow it; and even more at the fact that even at the peak of your fragmentation, you went to work each day. Every morning around eleven O'clock, aunty told you it was time and you set out to walk the length of Kisan Marg and cross the railway line to go to the Bodh Office in Gandhinagar. On a few occasions I accompanied you. The hot sun beat down on us uncaringly. You seemed to be unaware.   Your experience can never be mine Sushmita, but I don't know how you survived all the codes on the way. You plunged through it all somehow. You never did much in Bodh, in those days, but you held on. You went each day. I'm sure the old timers from Bodh will remember. You were so brave. I want to salute you Sushmita, for I had the privilege of experiencing how brick by brick, slowly and painfully you rebuilt your world.   Then there was time when you came and stayed a few months with Amit and me in Delhi, and in between you went across to Laksmi's place. By now you were better, and your life was now just punctuated with "episodes" and semblances of "wellness" in between. My children were very young and I could not give you the time you needed. But there was this half an hour each evening at four o'clock. This was the time when we shared a cup of tea. You wanted it "properly" in a teapot, with a tray and tray cloth and dainty cups! They are so vivid those "four o'clock tea sessions"…mostly in silence. ..they became the constant in your scattered and codified day. But you held on Sushmita, yes, you held on.   Slowly the times of lucidity began to increase. I had imagined that these will become times for self pity or self indulgence. Yet, you had this amazing ability to merge the personal with the social. You wanted to share your vulnerability and loneliness. You felt that a mental illness is misunderstood. It was that much more difficult to deal with because it was intangible. The larger world could not relate to it and unlike a physical illness many of your friends could not understand it. This heightened your feelings of isolation and loneliness. You were able to blend your subjective world with the larger objective reality… your inner world with the outer! As you watched yourself, and allowed your insights and reflections to grow, you channelised them into a concern. You wanted to reach out to others in your condition. You wanted to share your journey so that the larger world could understand its ambiguities, and reach out to you and to others. You invited Dr. Sarin, and the doctor from NIMHANS to do workshops; you wanted Gautam to make a film on your journey. How did you do it Sushmita? How did you always manage to distance yourself and reflect, even when your world was in a state of turmoil, when your world was falling apart?   Through the little bits of sharing that I now feel so privileged to have been a part of, you made me cherish the little little things of life. Just cooking 'alu sabzi' or 'lagoaing jhadu' or even having a bath became opportunities to celebrate. I was reminded of how much I take these little events for granted. They took on a new life! And those sudden creative sparks through it all. Where did they come from? You gave me a painting with a poem on kites. I have to look for it. I can go on and on. I don't know how many people are aware that you were the main force behind Bodh??   There were those completely infuriating aspects too. ..the ease with which you shamelessly borrowed money and in the next breath gave it way to one of your umpteen friends or family. It used to make me mad! I now want to laugh. I was so terrestrial, you were so moonbeam!   Slowly you got well Sushmita. You became like "the old Sushmita of Tilonia days". You often told me that you wanted your friends in Jaipur to know what you had been like. I had promised you that I will give you the photographs and videos that Amit had taken. I'm sorry that I delayed it Sushmita. You were getting well Sushmita. I did not expect you to die. They are being shared now Sushmita with friends. I don't know if it is too late.   There is an inner compulsion pushing me to write all this deep inner stuff. Somewhere I want the world to know. I know you did too. Perhaps I am trying very inadequately to try and do a little of what you wanted to. I don't know…I want to try and capture what you were. I know I never can… and yet Sushmita it has been wonderful to have had a friend like you. I don't want to cry but I don't know why the tears just come, and I feel such a lump in my throat…   Take care wherever you are. I hope you can finally be at peace. Keerti 27.08.2010