Its a dirty world…


For her everything was dirty,

her life revolved around dirt and getting rid of it,

for her cleaning was an occupation,an addiction,a fate and not a hobby,

she would start it as the first thing in the morning and conclude only when she slept,

she had forgotten she had a family,

a husband ,two children.

at times she would have relaxed months,relaxed years.

But,whenever there was a change in the environment ,her cleaning would make new records.

years had passed all together ,she had not traveled ,she did not learn anything new,

she was trapped in her OBSESSION of CONTAMINATION.

she never knew there was a solution,

she never knew there were others like her,

she never knew it was an illness,

she never knew it was not her mistake,

she never knew she could be free…

for her the world remained a dirty dirty place …


keep calm ,don’t panic!!!

She called ,i was driving.

She called back , i picked up.

Before i could talk,she was crying.

i knew she was on treatment ,

i asked her what was wrong,

but she would not stop crying,

now i started getting scared,

what was she upto,was she alright?

what was she thinking?,

where must she be ???

i asked her again,please tell me what is it?

she said she could not breathe,

i did not understand

she said she had a chest pain ,

i was getting close.

she said she is going to die,

Ah!impending doom i thought.

i asked her if she was alone,

she did not answer,

she said everything has finished,

i said no it has not,tell me where are u.

she said she was at home.

phew i thought ,is auntie at home i asked.

yes she is ,but i don’t want to trouble her.

i said ok .just take your tablet clonazepam.

she said she did not want to.

i was confused ,what else could i do?

we were 700kms apart and i knew how stubborn she was.

she would suffer but not take the medicine,

that is the way she was.

never had i seen her like this,not even during the worst times .

she kept crying ,everything is gone,i’m dying

i’m having a panic attack she said.

she was getting better now.

i asked how she wanted me to help her .

she said u just listen. OK i thought.

she did not say anything after that ,i could hear only her incessant cries.

within 10 mins she said she felt better ,and would call me later.

i called my other friend in the same city immediately as soon as she hung up.

i asked to not tell her i called.

Because like everybody my dear friend felt vulnerable.

she felt oh i cannot be weak .Oh !no no no no.

I say can something be done ??

She got well in a month or so,we have not talked about that later on.

I asked her to tell others that treatment is available for mental illness ,

she said she would for sure.

the other thing that kept me pondering was ,what if the patient does not want to take medicines,

is there something else we can do?

or are we crippled?

many questions ,not many answers…




I would stand there (in our balcony) for hours ,IMG-20141104-WA0018

time would just not move,

for sometime i would look at the dark sky

they were cloudy nights,many of them,

I stood there for hours

other times i would look at the hospital ,the surgical ward,not much movement at that hour.Still i would stare in a hope to see somebody.

Then i would look down ,where our vehicles were parked,But the watchman would also be sleeping, lucky man i thought.

Also i had many other thoughts,including a frequent one of the consequence of jumping off the building.i would think what will happen if i jump ,will i die or will i sustain injuries,oh! my already overworked husband (then boyfriend),will have another case to handle.I thought of the watchman who would loose his sleep ,

oh !poor man i thought,i thought of our warden my HOD himself, he would have to be disturbed at that hour of the night,no no i thought,

I thought of my roommates and good friends ,what would they think , she was weak could not even sustain a branch that is as comfortable as psychiatry.

I thought of my mother and trembled with agony , how could i even think of something like this, poor woman my maa.

I thought of my father ,bas i could not think more.

I felt drops on my face i felt the pain,i felt i was crying oh yes i was,i thought of the reason i absolutely could not,

I took a deep breath and looked at my watch(cellphone) it was already 3:00 a.m.

I had to wake up at 7. I immediately called the first contact i saw,that was of my husband i knew he was awake,he picked up my phone as cheerfully as always ,asked me why was i still up ,i was just crying,his cheer turned to worry and immediately asked if i was alone at home and asked me to come down ,i told him not to worry he insisted to see me, i told him ok ill come to your ward ,i went there at 3, helped him with the dressings he asked what was wrong i could not explain,as i was myself in awe.till we finished the work it was already 4:30 he dropped me home,i slept i suppose.

The other day i was up by 7:30 am though i had planned to take an off ,but couldn’t help but wake up.during the rounds that day and many other days i would not understand any bit,as i was drowsy .I made mistakes while working ,mistakes that i could not.Got scolded by my superiors,they seemed concerned.They asked me what was wrong ,i said i am not getting enough sleep and the matter closed.

One day while talking to a patient in the O.P.D i started crying the patient looked at me and said madam is all well?i said yes it is, how dare it not.

Nights were the worst ,specially Tuesdays and Fridays ,as my roommate would be away (emergency duty) .

I did not think of talking to anyone as i was scared all will judge,they would say psychiatry has affected me ,which i was sure had not.I thought they would say i am doing so to gain attention and to cover up for my mistakes.I was very scared.

I had never been a social person,but never had i felt so lonely before.

On the 24th of november 2014 i finally decided to talk to the person who i believed would not judge ,that was my professor . I talked to him he listened,i cried he listened ,asked me if i wanted to start medications i asked him for some other alternative he gave me a book .

Feeling good by David burns

and for the first time in months i felt good.

i dont know what went wrong then but something was wrong ,it definitely was.

Barbie doll — Site Title

My first encounter with psychiatry was when my father had his first episode of depression ,during the plague epidemic ,sometime around 1998.I remember him being very dull,was not going for work,would cry unnecessarily and incessantly.He also had a specific phobia for dolls,which would restrain us to bring any or play with any dolls at home(at […]

via Barbie doll — Site Title

Barbie doll

DSC_0814My first encounter with psychiatry was when my father had his first episode of depression ,during the plague epidemic ,sometime around 1998.I remember him being very dull,was not going for work,would cry unnecessarily and incessantly.He also had a specific phobia for dolls,which would restrain us to bring any or play with any  dolls at home(at times he expresses guilt for the same till date.)I don’t blame him though as i did not really like playing with the DOLLS.He took treatment for the same,and also started practicing Yoga.One day i remember he brought a Barbie doll,that wore a white lace dress and kept it on the cabinet .He would purposely sit in front of it ,taking time out of his busy schedule , daily and i would observe him sweating ,flushing and father possesses one the prettiest eyes I’ve seen ,very expressive big doe shaped eyes ,with long eyelashes, they would become blood-red,my mother would get frightened and plead him to see a doctor immediately ,I would watch him suffer ,baffled.The distress he felt was evident,still he would go through the same suffering daily,just so that i could play with the dolls.I would tell him time and again ,”no papa i don’t want to play with it”.But he would persist.I clearly remember he would perform different ‘asanas’ and try to make me and my brother laugh,we used to.Eventually medicines were tapered ,alcohol was resorted to and Yoga stayed ,so did the phobia ,within a month the lace dress barbie was thrown away from the window ,by my mother(as he would refuse to touch it).All this made me loath all kinds of dolls anyone could know of.I could not understand how can children of my age enjoy playing with these dead unreal appalling things,i could never,i will never.It made my papa suffer .