I want to start this post by saying that starting this blog was probably one of the best decisions of my life. I always kept a diary. In school, my teachers used to praise me for good handwriting. It motivated me to write more. When I started keeping a diary, I did not know what to write. I started by writing about my day. In my teenage years, I used to write about my crushes and my favorite movie stars. When I started college, preserving a diary became a big task. So instead, I started this blog. As this was an outward-facing medium, I was initially quite reserved in the content I am putting out. It took me a couple of years to finally start writing my mind. I don’t know who reads my blog. But I hope one day someone in the same boat as mine stumbles upon this site and finds peace by learning about my experiences 🙂
Recent snaps from my Colorado Trip. Nothing much to write about here, I had a lot of fun!!!
Mountains, Friends, and Nature – it was a healing experience.
Well, I’ll admit, I kind of have a brain freeze today. I haven’t written in a while, and I feel like I am running out of ideas about what I should write. I have been told that I am observant and notice very minute details. Yes, that’s true. I find my content in the details. Recently I noticed that I have stopped observing all that much. Nowadays, my brain often goes into auto-pilot mode.
<every time I do not know what to write about, you’ll get to read about my family. So, here you go>
My mom is intensely religious. I have a feeling that she looks down upon anyone who is not 😬 She is someone who would wake up in the middle of the night and stand in a queue for 10 hours just to see a 10-inch wall-mounted statue for 30 seconds 🤷🏻♀️ But, in those 30 seconds, it’s just her and the mounted God, no one can dare to disturb their one-on-one. She prays with all her heart. She’ll ask for everything she can. Often, she starts crying in the middle of this. The whole process used to fascinate me as a kid. How can someone look at a statue with so much hope! She prayed to her as if it were a real person.
As her only child, I was always dragged along to all those temple visits. She used to force me to fold my hands and sing Bhajans. I admit it was quite annoying. Every time we were within the 200 meters radius of the diety, she used to remind me of everything I had to ask from God. The list was more or less the same – Good grades, Family problems, and more money – that’s all. According to her, God loved kids. So anything I ask from God will definitely be granted. Basically she tried to fulfill her wishes through my quota here 😲
Well, Well, if God had to hear me, he could just hear me at home and grant my wishes. What’s the deal with that statue. For a second, even if I accept that he was going to help me, there are some technical issues here. You don’t get good grades out of thin air, you have to work hard. Money doesn’t grow on trees, you have to be tactful. My logical mind was never convinced. Yet, I never got into an argument with my mom, ultimately it would have been her right hand and my face 😱 I used to follow whatever she told me, she told me to fold hands, I folded. She told me to pray for my family’s well-being, I did.
It took a while for me to understand my mom’s irrational behavior. Being a doctor how can she believe in all this, I used to think. I didn’t dare to question her though. I just accepted her.
During my teens, I realized my mom had many shades to her personality. I was slowly able to relate to her experiences. Today, all those practices make sense to me. My mom has anxiety too. And so did my grandma.
Every time my grandma started throwing dishes all over the kitchen, I should have known.
Every time my grandma cuddled and fed her pet dog, and shouted at her son for no reason, I should have known.
Every time over the call, she cried and asked me to visit her soon, I should have known.
My grandma suffered in silence for years. My mom did too. Anxiety is such an Alien term in rural India. I did not know that this was passed onto me by generations until recently.
Taking care of my grandma was tough – she had horrible mood swings. My mom had to be the responsible kid. She took care of home every time my grandma was sick or feeling weak. She found her solace in the little corner of her home with all the God’s deities. She closed her eyes and prayed to God to help her mother. That’s how she found her courage. She protected her mother.
I was, I think about 15 years old when I learned this. I had started to observe my anxiety trigger, and hence these slowly unraveling details were making sense to me.
Now I go to a temple once in a while, close my eyes, and pray to God for my family. It is beyond belief for me. I know now that praying can heal. My mom and grandma – both survived their greatest fears by just closing their eyes and surrendering their emotions to a statue. It is meditative and powerful.
My mom is brave and beautiful, and I love her a lot. She is doing pretty good nowadays. Seeing me succeed has been her personal achievement. For her – anxiety is non-existential, and therapy is completely foreign. Yet, She helped me fight it by forcing me to wake up early, exercise, and meditate. I owe her a lot. Seeing her heal, seeing her happy, helps me too. She is my strength.
For anyone reading this – Go talk to your parents. They care for you more than anyone else.
They are your biggest cheerleaders! xoxoxo