‘So tell me, how have you been doing?’
‘Hey. I’ve been good, yeah. Better. How about you?’
‘Oh I’m having a good time, I’m home for Diwali!’
‘Fabulous!’
‘So, how’ve you been?’
‘I wish I could go home too, but there is so much stuff that
can’t be put off for later anymore. Oh, and I’m good, otherwise. The acceptance
of loss is finally permeating into my understanding. It has ceased to be the
kind of quagmire that it was. There are a few cloudy days now and then, but
that’s only reasonable and expected. So yeah, it’s good I’d say!’
‘Oh, such seasonal blues can never be avoided. Just indulge
in them instead of struggling towards forcing yourself out of them. They aren’t
ailments that can be cured magically.’
‘That’s what I do, and so much that at times it feels like
this breakup has come with an infinite number of compensatory leaves for me. I
take them whenever I feel I should and when
I do, which I do so often, I just let myself relax and do anything I
like. Of course, only as relaxed as these spoilsport thoughts of the shitload
of pending work allow me to be. I have been in touch with a counselor via
correspondence, though.’
‘Oh that’s great! How’s he treating you? Seems to carry
benefits?’
‘The language and expression in the mails give me a strong
hunch that it is a she, and it does seem to be of help. She’s helping me figure
out my feelings with different perspectives, and suggesting me measures to deal
with them in the immediate run. Things like safe place exercise, you know.
Apart from that, in the process of writing to the counselor, I get to think
over the nuances of my present state very thoroughly and that is a catharsis in
itself.’
‘Right, boss. I do believe everyone should see a
psychiatrist at least once in their lives. It is something we all are so
ignorant about.’
‘World seems to have evolved too greatly. They even have a
cure for something as personal, bewildering and seemingly non-pathological as
unhappiness!’
‘Ha! There is a reason for happiness, and there happens to
be a cure for unhappiness.’
‘Sometimes I find it to be such a disappointment, looking
inside our heads, or hearts if I should say, so coldly and clinically. It
almost comes as a threat to the identity of the self! I don’t like to be a sum
total of chemical reactions. Perhaps my self-identification is too strong. ’
‘What poets romanticize as being lost in the eyes of their
damsels, psychologists see it merely as serotonin level surplus. Even I used to
find it odd to look at things in this manner, when I learnt that emotions aren’t
anything but neuro-chemical generations. But that’s what they are!’
‘I agree. This is the truth, and most importantly, looking
at things in such a perspective empowers us to deal with them much better! It’s
funny, this world of ours. God’s dark humor!’
‘Indeed! All the happiness, sadness, anger and joy exist
between your two ears. That’s what my doctor told me. It’s all biochemistry in
the brain. Nothing that we feel is really, uh, real, you know? Just chemical reactions.
But that also means that redemption is always a choice – while you cannot
always control what sets them off, you can definitely tinker with the reactions
to your desire. That’s where professional help comes in!’
‘I, too, had to overcome a certain degree of reluctance
before I decided to get in touch with my counselor. I equated it with defeat in
the struggle of overcoming my demons. I used to feel that this is a personal
struggle and the problems are mine to overcome. But sense prevailed, and I
decided to deal with my humbled ego later. It was a good decision.’
‘It was a great decision. The idea is like if you have a
wound on your body, you'd go to get first aid, right? You don’t try to fix your
broken bones up yourself, do you? Breakups, professional failures, burnouts,
these are like wounds inflicted on your psyche and mind. Seeing a medical
professional is first aid for your mental wounds.’
‘Freud couldn’t have put it better himself. Sometimes I feel
bad for poets. Reveling in their ignorance and romanticizing chemical reactions
to such lofty positions from where they begin to command our well-being by
themselves!’
‘Ha-ha, that’s right if you put it so! Love isn’t real. It
is like finding someone who fixes you up with your serotonin, dopamine and
testosterone. To a psychiatrist, a girlfriend may more be like a peddler!’
‘That’s quite an analogy!’
‘Really, just different drugs, but a peddler all the same!’
‘Yeah. Finding love, like finding someone who dopes us up
from the banality of everyday life and every day chemicals. Finding someone to
get us high.’
‘Exactly. Now imagine the face of your actual peddler!’
‘Ha-ha! He’s a fucking rickshaw-puller!’
‘I hope they can hear your laughter all through your hostel
corridor.’
‘I am ROFL for real!’
‘That motherfucker same the same job for you as your
ex-girlfriend did. At least, on a psychiatrist’s level. Tell me, will you get
upset if somehow things get bitter between you and the rickshaw-puller?’
‘Ha-ha! I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass. I would just find
another rickshaw-puller!’
‘Exactly, someone else to fix you up with the dope!’
‘Or I may stay sober for a while and play snooker and the
guitar more often. Depends!’
‘But no hard feelings, no being sorry and bitter and stuff,
right?’
‘Ha! Of course not!’
‘It’s nothing personal. Just neurochemistry.’
‘The inescapable envy of a marijuana peddler.’
‘I am really happy the conversation could provide a little
bit of levity in a serious topic!’
‘It is an understatement. The serious topic is levitating!
We should co-write this shit. It has been ages since we did that. The world
needs to be aware about mental well-being!’
‘Oh yes, we should! That’s a great idea!’
‘I’ll send you my draft soon. I have a feeling people will
start equating it our personal lives. Extrapolation of literature, while not
always solicited, happens invariably.’
‘Perhaps, but does it really matter?’
‘I don’t think so. Hah, it is all neurons and chemicals,
after all!’
-Anurag Anand & Shival Gupta
