Remembering

Over the last few days, I have written and rewritten this post in my head, never thinking I would actually put fingers to keys and make it solid. The speed at which the thoughts ricocheted around in my head would never have been conducive to an understandable bit of writing. These thoughts have mostly been about Sushant Singh Rajput, a 34 year old actor who took his own life on the morning of the 14th of June, 2020. Yes, 6 days ago today. Did I know Mr.Rajput in person? Not at all. However, his death has affected me in a deep, personal way that I do not understand and I have been grieving. This is the reason I am writing this post, not to pay tribute to his life. That should be left to the people who did know this man, who seems to have been a wonderfully complex, intelligent, curious and kind human being.

As I said, I did not know him in the slightest, then why has his suicide affected me this way? I have searched all the places on the internet where others have asked this question, and in doing so it has become apparent that I am not the only one feeling this way. I found many answers, some sympathetic to the questioner and expressing their own grief and some asking the questioner to get a grip and think about the thousands dying every day through no fault of their own. The latter seems to be the logical route – a couple of weeks ago I was weeping at the news of a pregnant elephant that starved to death after accidentally eating a pineapple stuffed with firecrackers. And around the same time I was also sharing stories about the Black Lives Matter movement triggered by the devastating death of a black man in custody, in broad daylight as multiple civilians recorded a police officer kneeling on his neck, slowly killing him. The atrocities of the world are many and it would be so easy to just give in to despair and feel utterly helpless, but we do not, we live.

It’s been a heavy month. It’s been a heavy year. The Coronavirus pandemic, the loss of my job (albeit one I did not like nor considered a career), the collapse of the company I worked for and now living on the superannuation which is my government mandated savings for old age. I am luckier than a lot of people, I live in Australia, I am leasing a beautiful house and the savings are a blessing and for this I am grateful, grateful, grateful.

To say that it has been a challenge to stay positive this year is an understatement. I usually do not give any importance to a new year, it is just a new day in the calendar, just a new day, period. However, this year, I did feel positive, like change was in the offing and it was a wonderful feeling, which did not last, of course. So is Mr.Rajput’s death just another blow in a year plagued by blow after blow?

When I lived in India, I did not see the serials he acted in (soap operas), but must have come across some entertainment news articles which featured him and I thought he had a charm that went beyond his looks, which however unconventional, were supremely appealing to me. I did not watch all his movies, only three of them, so it isn’t as if I was a devoted fan. However, on Monday, the 15th of June, when I logged into Instagram after a week-long hiatus, and saw a photo someone had shared of the actor with the caption “R.I.P”, I remember vividly saying, “NO, NO, NO!” with a hand to my head while the other frantically typed his name into Google, hoping that what I had seen was a hoax. And then I cried. And I have cried every day for the last 6 days for this brilliant man, who was as unconventional a celebrity as they come, as I learned afterwards.

I myself will turn 34 at the end of this year, a mere 10.5 months after Mr.Rajput. Is that it, is it the age, knowing that someone who was as old/young as I am, who was successful, loved by millions, and rational (as evidenced by his considered answers to even frivolous questions put to him by the media) could think life wasn’t worth living? He was intelligent, cared passionately about the cosmos, space, the mysteries of the universe, and also did not set much store by either fame or money. Outwardly, while he was alive, he seemed cheerful, full of energy and quick to flash his charming smile that caused his eyes to sparkle, winning the hearts of millions with his candour and vulnerability. Of course, everything I have seen is related to interviews and promotions, but those who knew him seem to be of the same opinion. In retrospect, all his deep answers seem laced with a sadness, an underlying current of it, ready to burst forth, if only someone dug a little deeper. He himself said in an interview, when speaking of Box Office success that no-one knows the formula for a movie’s success, but that they make connections in retrospect. Perhaps that is all I, and everyone else, is doing.

If we are honest, there is no-one, not a single person other than ourselves that can feel what we feel. Our feelings are all our own and who knows what he was feeling, what he could not rationalise, or what he was feeling, that he could rationalise into ending his life. All I know is that my heart is broken right now for this man I did not know, but for whom I can’t stop feeling so sad.

Perhaps the atrocities, the challenges and grief of this year have all been building up and this last event is the one that broke the dam. In writing this, I believed I might find clarity, but I have not. I hope, Mr.Rajput, that you are amongst the stars that you loved, with your mother whom you missed so much and forever free of all the pain you felt on this earth. And if you find yourself in the cycle of life again, I hope it will be one of joy and filled with all the love that millions feel for you, and that you will want to stay.