Hope Everyone Dies

I have returned to mallu land after ten years of living outside it. Broke up with my partner of 6.5 years, had an affair or something less than that (for him, not me), got my goddamn heart broken in it, at the verge of self harming again, made a film. 

It was five years ago, that i landed in Bombay with all my stuff from Calcutta. In LTT (Lokmanya Tilak Terminus). Vai Vow, my ex partner, was already in Bombay, waiting for me. He had been house hunting and had almost finalized a flat. Like all new comers in their first week there, i stayed in a friend's friend's place in D.N. Nagar. It had three females, one of whom was pretty rude to me, for no reason. 

I went to see the flats that vai vow had seen and decided all of them were crappy, including the one he had almost finalized. We started house hunting together and i finalized our first flat. Again, as is the case with most new comers in Bombay, it was a MHADA (Maharashtra Housing and Area Development Authority) building. 

I was reminded of all these when i headed to LTT a day back, to return to mallu land. Vai Vow came to see me off. 

I haven't got over the 'may-be-less-than-an-affair' and can't stop crying when i am not doing something else, like binge watching shows, writing or reading or playing wordle. Oh wordle happened in between, didn't it? It is one of my fondest memories with Appachan, this game which just got popular. Yes, we used to play it more than a decade ago. My sister had picked it up from school and passed it on to Appachan and me, who pretty much got addicted. 

I wish for appachan's smell, touch, love. I wish i could have had the life i promised to have, with Vai Vow. I wish i was loved by Dee, my may-be-less-than-an-affair. Most of all, i wish for everyone to be dead. 

Hey! I am Second AD!

Bruises. Shoe bite. Muscle pain.

For the first time in my life, i assisted a director on their shoot. I was the second AD (Assistant Director) - the last in hierarchy in the direction team of an ad film shoot.

When i chose filmmaking as my career, one thing i was sure of was that i wouldn't take the path of assisting a director for decades before getting a chance to make a film. That is how most people start off but from those who had done it and i had spoken to, i knew it was a crappy place for me to be in. But in Bombay, the first company i worked for shut down, i couldn't clear any interviews to other jobs, i was already unable to pay my rent and was moving towards abject penury. I would have taken any job.

My only actor friend told me that she might be able to help me. Her partner who also happened to be a director was making an ad film. He immediately asked me to join as an AD and i did. I needed the money. Badly. Little did i know that i was going to do a job that i would grow to love to bits. But yes, you have to keep this in mind. It might not be all that great if your director is bad. Mine was a great one and the best part about it was that he welcomed ideas from everyone. There was no shutting of doors based on hierarchy in that. Even a second AD could make suggestions and if they were good they would be accepted. That is something that doesn't happen very often. 
 
The work started many months ago, in November.The project got delayed and delayed. I had made a promise to myself. That i wouldn't quit this job. This was necessary because i knew for a fact that everyone else other than the director would be a pain to work with. That's the nature of films like these and i knew it the moment i went into the first meeting in the production house. There were a hundred things i wanted to object to. A hundred things i wanted to say and could not. It wasn't easy for me to keep my promise to myself but i did it anyway and i am awfully proud of myself. I did write a complaint letter but come on, one complaint letter in 6 months is nothing for my nature. 

For instance, during tech recce, the person who was the Director's Assistant (DA) shared his sandwich with me and remarked 'perks of having a wife.' I almost choked. I asked him what the perks of having a husband were. He said, with a knowing smile, 'many things'. I think he meant sex. That smile is the typical indian-men-talking-about-sex-smile. I didn't do anything except judge him. 

Till this project, i had only directed others. I had other ADs work for me and i knew how to do that job. But switching places, i realised it is great fun to be an AD too. As the shoot date nears, you have less and less time to think, worry about things, cry, have sex etc. During shoot, you will be required to be like wind. Everywhere and swishing past things and people and often carrying them with you while at it. 

You get to do everything. I got to work on costumes, managing extras, managing people, suffering people, negotiating and a hell of a lot more. This picture that looks like it's taken from a badly made horror film is the only picture i have got of the shoot. I took it to remember the position of actors in the scene while rehearsing with them. 

Everyone hated me and i hung in there. Everyone scolded me and i braved it. I cried only once, when a costume assistant said he wouldn't talk to me after i told on the walkie talkie that he wasn't working. I didn't know he could hear me but i wasn't lying. Even then i cried a lot. Not as much as i wanted to though because there wasn't enough time and not enough bathrooms or nooks to cry in. Everyone was everywhere. 

During shoot at least four people asked me if i was from 'South India'. South Indians work very hard, one person told me. Someone asked if i was from Mangalore. An actor spoke all the malayalam she knew to me. Which was 'do you want tea?' One person told me that he liked the way i worked but was too 'on the face'. I messed up a lot of things and learned even more. Look at this bandage i aged. I learned how to do it there, during shoot.

Even after shoot, after catching up on all the sleep, i can't wait to be back on it. There is no other way than to make a film, now. That's the only thing that will help me get back into that swiftness of action and thought that i so miss already. 
 
I told the Producer that the vanity van for women actors had a sexist sign. It was a sexualised image of a woman. She disagreed with me and said that i was wearing a sleeveless top too. I ignored the stupidity and asked her why the men's vanity van had no such design. Hopefully, that got her thinking. Oh, the letter i wrote, by the way was accusing her of discriminating against me on the basis of my class and colour of skin etc. 

Then there was the DoP (Director of Photography). He was white. When we met, he shook my hand and asked to the Associate Director who was sitting next to him if it was okay to shake hands with women in india. 'I got into trouble in Saudi Arabia once,' he said. It only got worse from there. When the Associate Director told him that living in London changed her life, he asked 'did you get married?' He would call me 'little mini elf'. I was too little to be anything, for him. He would always pinch me unexpectedly. I have a problem of getting startled even when someone calls out my name, pinching would just scare the living daylight out of me. He continued doing it even when he realised it startled me. 

He was very impressed with the perks-of-having-a-wife-DA. And he even called me 'little DA' once when i was anything but. But the strangest and the most annoying thing he did was during tech recce when he said he found out what to do with the DA when he went to pitch his projects. He took a little water and splashed it on the DA's crotch. He held his crotch, affecting embarrassment. I gave a cold look to the DoP and said that it wasn't funny. He said that i didn't count because i didn't have a sense of humour. Excuse me, but didn't he just ask me to look at a fellow worker's crotch after pouring water on it? I still haven't got the joke, honestly. 

I left after the director yelled 'it's a wrap' We had worked for more than 48 hours straight. It had changed my life and i was still unmarried.

First Film Screening in Mumbai

Anand Patwardhan and i go a long way back in time, you know, of him being unaware of my existence and me being a faithful fan. Yesterday, two things happened. I talked to him. I realised that as of now, Bombay is my home. So i am overwhelmed.

I think i watched 'Ram Ke Naam' when my sister was preparing for her entance exams to various media schools. I was a child. I realised from the conversations she and my mother had that the film was a milestone. Babri Masjid was India. Like in a film, i now see myself in flashback in the drawing room of what once used to be my home in Calicut, Kerala.

Later, i started making films. I started attending VIBGYOR film festival and that's where i saw Patwardhan for the first time. 'Who would've thought' is the underlying emotion here. His white hair was connected to the disturbing visuals from 'Ram ke Naam' in my head. By then i knew a bit more of India and Babri Masjid. Not very much just a bit more.

I must have been in late teens when i won this John Abraham award at SIGNS film festival. The award ceremony was in Palakkad, Kerala and my jaw dropped when i learned that it was Patwardhan who was going to give me the award. I had by then realised that i had severe social awkwardness problems. But i made up my mind to hug him when he handed me the award. But when the time came, my heart was in my mouth i barely managed a smile, let alone a hug. But i got to sit a few seats away from him on stage. Prakash Bare was sitting next to me and was making small talk and i was like 'can i make them switch places using my head?'

Then i went to film school where a lot of things happened (and where i did most of them). But once, in Main Theatre, my most favourite place in the world, i watched 'Jai Bhim Comrade' and wept and wept. I picked fights with idiots to whom i usually don't talk when they called the film 'propaganda'.
Years later i moved to Bombay. Bombay and Pune were the two options in front of me and my partner who were starting a life together. I got a full time job in Bombay and in we moved to that dingy flat where all Bombay stories start. In real life and in films.

I hated Bombay. Still do. Never had a city been so hostile and unwelcoming to me. I lost my job, found odd ones, lost them, found them and lost them again. In one such, i had to shoot the massive farmers' march to Bombay. I had to stay at Azad Maidan overnight, alone, because i was doing the camera too and there in the early hours of morning was Patwardhan. He was operating his own camera and shooting the farmers. I made whatsapp jokes to the three people i talk to, saying Patwardhan is copying my shots. That's how i compensated for not going up to him and speaking, like others were. And yes, i clicked his pictures as if that is saying 'hello'. Friends rolled eyes on WhatsApp.

Again, a couple of years later, yesterday, they screened 'Gi' a short film i directed in Prithvi theatre, Bombay. First screening in Bombay. Forgetful and absent minded as crazy, i almost forgot the event, didn't know that Anand Patwardhan, Simantini Dhuru and Chandni Parek were curating it. Imagine my poor heart when i lost my way to the venue and ended up in a book store where this white haired man was looking at titles. I ran elsewhere to ask for directions, of course.

When i got in and sat down in the hall it was dark. When the lights went on after the first film, there he was. Then before i knew it, he was talking to me. From behind the hall, he was looking at me and was asking something about introducing the film. I don't quite remember what words came out and in which language but must have been a 'no' because they switched off the lights and started playing the film.

After the screening, again, he was talking to me! Asking me to go to the front of the hall and answer questions. As usual, i fumbled through my answers and said ridiculous things and then, Patwardhan asked me a question! About the film i directed. My mind went 'this is the chance. You finally get to make him understand that there is a person shaped like you in the world and that you talk.' My mouth went something like 'yeah, what you asked is very nice but since i am an idiot i am going to give you the stupidest answer ever because hey, first impressions!'

After that disaster, we spoke about SRFTI and laughed.

Then the evening was over and everyone went home. I started replaying the words i spoke and editing it in my head to give sensible answers and not stupidities. My rickshaw got into a fight with a taxi car. The car driver said 'if i didn't have a passenger, i would have got out and showed you'. My rickshaw driver said 'yeah, motherfucker, i would have liked to see that.' I went home, forgot to turn off the water supply to the tank and woke up in a flooded flat. Balance was restored to the world.

Why Men Should Not Shout At Women

Mannequins at a store in Kolkata. Free to use and share with accreditation

I think i can call the week that went by the 'guilt week.' I felt i had lied at therapy the previous week. Not lied, per se but had withheld information from my therapist, Ish. So the entire week i kind of spent in feeling guilty about it.

I had smoked at the wrong time that day. Ish got the smell of cigarette and asked me how many i smoked in a day. I told her that Inji had also been asking about my smoking of late. In fact on one of the days following the session, i got reprimanded by another lovely woman too in a WhatsApp group. Inji blasted me for spending so much money on cigarettes. It's interesting how people who know me use feminism to make me stop doing bad things.

The damn problem is that they are always right.

You see, i would like to tell you how it is. I am an addict. I have been smoking for 8 years now, if not more. In all those 8+ years, there has not been a single day i haven't smoked except for the time i spent at hospitals - a total of two weeks, at the most. I was in hospital both the times for attempting to kill myself. The second time, the withdrawal symptoms made me realize how bad my addiction had become. I texted a man who had raped me asking if he could let me know how i could smoke inside the hospital. One of my classmates smuggled cigarettes for me and i took one or two puffs in the bathroom with a smoke alarm and it felt like oxygen. Smoking is not on the agenda in my therapy sessions with Ish, as she kind of regretfully repeats every time the topic comes up. I have no reason to write about it in here - when these notes are read out to her in every session. Yet, i write so that i can tell you how horrible it is to have an addiction, especially smoking.

I am someone who does not like getting a cold because i feel that my body is gaining control over me. I hate diseases, disorders etc. I hate it that Calico gets migraine attacks and that he has found no cure for it. My body is the place where i exercise a lot of control, sometimes punishing it - something that is on the agenda and we have talked about it earlier too. I think humans are all powerful because they have absolute control over themselves and can make decisions and all that. Yeah and yet, i let a substance - nicotine - control my life. That's how pathetic an addiction can be.

Now how is this a feminist thought?
How is it not?

Women taking care of themselves is the primary condition for feminism. With that decision comes everything else. For this, you need to be completely independent. This does not mean that like how i do, you should refrain from asking for help or take help at all. It means that you should be self sufficient and your body should be self sufficient to fight because yes, we will have to fight. So when you punish your body with such things as cigarettes and unhealthy eating habits and all those things we women constantly do or don't do saying 'it's okay,' you are letting patriarchy win.

The only problem here? I know all of this and still smoke like a chimney. I know all of this and have unhealthy eating habits. I don't care about myself at all. The least of all my physical health.

I keep telling myself that i will die (kill myself) at 40 or something and that none of this matters.

So yeah, this rant was to say that smoking is the shittiest thing that can happen to anyone.

During therapy i noticed how Ish used a technique that Inji often uses on me. She tried to slip in the topic of my eating while discussing something else - smoking, i guess.

Ish said that she didn't know where the session was going. Nor did i. I never think of it, actually because i expect Ish to guide me through the path she decides. Anyway we discussed the incident with Deep that i had written about. When Deep got pissed with me, because i threw his shoes out because he refused to clean up after himself, i had got scared. Ish asked me questions about anger that made me reflect. I had not thought about it. But before that i understood something. A man is not just a man. Every man is patriarchy.

Allow me to indulge. I asked Ish repeatedly why i got scared when Deep got angry even when he had absolutely no power over me. He was staying as a guest at my place in Bombay. He wasn't paying rent and the only thing that let him stay here is the fact that he, me and Vai Vow are acquaintances. Not even close friends. So what was the big deal!

Ish told me that i had got scared because he was, after all, a man. He was bigger and stronger than me. He had patriarchy on his side. This answered a lot of questions for me. It was magical and exhilarating. My fear was not personal. It was very socio-political.

Of course i would be scared of being alone with a man twice my size and god knows how many times my strength. Am i not aware of this, as a woman? Yes, of course. The fear that most women have that they are going to be pinched in the breast when a man passes close to them on the road - i know that. I know the fear when i think someone is behind me and i slow down to let him pass so that he won't attack me from behind. Of course the culture and social location would affect the way your mind protected your body from harm. This is exactly why as a response to what Deep did, i went to my room - the only room that can be locked from inside in my house, and sat there. I typed a long message on the group that i had created to make both the men in the house and especially Deep clean up after themselves. After doing that i stayed like that for some time and then felt a little better and went out and made Deep and myself tea.

This is why men, if they really want to embrace feminism and get rid of the patriarchy in them, should realize that their body language is important, that if you're even shouting at a woman, it is building a power equation right there - one that's not right at all.

But during therapy, i felt so good. When there is just you saying your opinion and the world is telling you that you're wrong, there will be one tiny voice somewhere saying 'i think she has a point.' That's how it felt. After coming back from therapy, i told Deep that we spoke about him. Told him that his days were numbered. He joked around but i felt he had got the point. Later, i spoke with my partner too, about the same. I felt so much better, i can't describe it.

He told me that he was surprised when he saw that Deep was walking topless in the house after taking bath. Anyone who knows me would be surprised. I hate seeing topless men. In fact Cheta and i have said this many a times right in front of Deep. And you know when else this had happened? In Trivandrum. When i was with Sal. He had taken off his shirt and i had not objected. When Inji heard this, she said 'ugh'. 'Ugh kunji, ugh' she had said. I felt so happy that i had spoken to my partner about this problem. In detail. Isn't it amazing when people love and care for you! I wish i could be like that to Mother. Alas! She pushes me away mercilessly.

So the guilt part -

I have flashes of having sex during certain time of every month. Most of the time i only see my partner but sometimes, even acquaintances turn up. I fucking hate it. It applies to people whom i am just okay talking with. It doesn't take much for me to dream about them kissing me or something. Physical attraction was a thing in my life and i feel guilty about it all the time.

Ish asked me if i got angry with people, often. She reminded me of the assignment i never managed to complete. The picture postcard to people i was angry with or had hatred for. Me getting angry was common, i thought. People getting angry with me - yes, over political differences. But i do know that i fear anger very much. From my sister and Mother. A lot. Oh when Mother calls me in a certain tone, i immediately get that she is going to get angry with me and then get the feeling that i get - the one where a fireball starts swimming in my heart or stomach.

Ish had noticed my nail biting and had asked me when i had started it. I told her that i have been an arduous nail biter from ever since i can remember. It had never even occurred to me that i deliberately bit my nails (even toe nails) till the point they bled and that it was self harm. No, really, it had not occurred that i was harming myself. Just saw it as a habit.

Ish also asked me if my partner and i had gone to a doctor. I told her that we hadn't. She asked me if there was any change in the way we had sex after he and i had spoken about going to a doctor etc. I said no. I told her that 'What did Ish say' had become a goodnight kiss kind of thing as seen in Hollywood films. We laughed. I also told her that with the new job i had taken, i would have to travel a lot but i had made sure that i would be back in Bombay for at least one day a week, for therapy.  'And your partner,' she added. It was hilarious. I have a feeling that spouses of patients and therapists never get along. Yet,

when i told him that i had reported to Ish that nothing had changed in sex, he hesitated for a while and confessed that something had. He said that he now stopped himself from trying to penetrate me. I just told him that it looked as if Ish could read his mind. 'I am never going to see her,' he said, and i laughed again.

Extremely excited about the shoot coming up.

Men who Don't Clean up After Themselves | It's a Thing | Shrink Tales

I took a major decision of my life in the time between the two therapy sessions. And as my family and my partner always suspected, Inji did have a role in it. Mother will be very disappointed and partner has already started making faces. Thank god his eyes are not that big or else for all those rolling and staring he did, i would have started getting nightmares.

So yes, i probably gave up a job offer that would have brought me good money and took up a job in journalism with which i am not even sure i will be able to sustain myself. In films, one is always shown to have attained a lot of happiness and freedom with such decisions. In real life, it feels like there is a hollow in my stomach and anyone can put their hands through it, dig up some of my intestines and eat it.

The new job will be tiring and will require a lot of travelling. All over India. In fact, i am not even sure i'll be able to do it but i'm giving it a try in an attempt to get out of my comfort zone.

When i read the aftermath and reached the part where i mentioned the series of sketches i had once started called 'The Broken Heart Baby and Other Stories,' Ish, my therapist, stopped and said that it was a deeply sad image. A child is usually a very vulnerable and pure and innocent thing and i had associated it with something sad and destructive as a broken heart. I was surprised that she saw it. When i had posted the sketch on Facebook, i had got the feeling that people thought it was funny.It could have been the way in which i sketched but i didn't see anyone who had understood that it had come from a place of immense sadness. I no longer remember what it was but i remember the feeling. Me feeling so hurt, feeling that i was born that way, that i would just have to learn how to live with it and that there was no chance of any of the sadness going away. It could be managed, at best.

The Broken Heart Baby - from the previous session

When i told Ish that i had again been absent minded and had taken an auto to the usual therapy location, she said that it was okay. She always said it was okay. But is it? Even when i don't have money i enter my film in festivals, pay the amount and later forget to send them DVDs. Ish said that it could be out of habit. It was the first time we were holding a session in a different location. Could be, i told myself. I hope not to make the same mistake today.

We had an interesting conversation on how 'projection' happened. I forgot what made us talk of it. For example, i never gave Ish the links to my films because i was sure she wouldn't watch it. This could be because when someone asked me to watch their work and give opinion, i never did. Or did it after two years or so.

But a more vicious form of this, i had noticed when i was fighting sexual harassment in SRFTI. Many girls - the ones who were hell bent upon saying that SRFTI was a 'safe space' and nothing wrong could ever happen there, said that we were lying. Me and other female students who had made complaints of sexual harassment against powerful professors who had fan following among students. I could never understand why anyone would think that someone would lie about being sexually harassed. Their argument was that we were doing it for attention and me in particular because i was also mentally ill. Later i realized how they were able to say such a thing. It was because they would do it. They were projecting it on us!

I told Ish how my partner had started sulking about therapy making faces when i mentioned it. Every night before going to bed, he now asks me, 'what did Ish say?' We laughed about it but Ish said that i shouldn't be shutting him off when he tried to speak about sex with me. I had done that the last time. She said that it probably took a lot of effort from his side to gather courage to speak about sex and therefore it was not wise to be indifferent or appear uninterested when he did that. It was true. I felt bad and guilty for some time. Over the week, i told this to him but he still hasn't initiated another conversation.

During the week, there happened an incident that scared me. Deep, my junior from SRFTI is staying at my place in Bombay. Over the elongated period of his stay, i learned how men never clean up after themselves. This was driving me crazy. Even my partner's behaviour really needed to change when it came to who cleans up, who does chores, in the house. After repeatedly telling, yelling, pleading and sometimes even been driven to tears i formulated a strategy. I would throw their things out one by one every time they did not clean up their mess. Even then they refused to clean up. If i wasn't taking the pills and going for therapy, i am sure i would have had long crying spells of helplessness over this.

So one day when i came home, i saw that Deep had not cleaned up something. I asked him to do it and said that i was going to throw something out if he didn't. He didn't. I threw his shoes out. When i did that, he got angry.

Then something in me changed. I felt nervous. Powerless. He said that i had crossed the line. His expression changed. I started getting scared. In my mind i knew that what he was doing was not right. He had long crossed the line and had troubled me so much - not cleaning up his hair, his beard after he trimmed it, the plates he ate out of and generally the hall in which he lived was like a pigsty. It repelled me to come back home to that. Yet, there i was trying hard to hide the fact that i had got scared of him.

He had no power over me. I was doing him a favour by letting him stay at my place. Without taking rent. I have been told that it is not common in Bombay. Yet, when he got angry, why did i cower in fear.

I crumble under authority.

What do i lose if he becomes angry with me? Some jokes? In fact, a big chunk of misogynistic things i hear every day will be gone if he stops being friends with me. In fact we are not close friends at all. We are not even close. But you know - that fear - that fear i felt when Professor N was flirting with me - that he would stop talking to me if i refused to have sex with him - it was that kind of feeling that i felt. Of course. Not that dangerous. Yet, even memories of the abusive relationship i was once in, with a theatre director in Kerala, who used to beat me up and rape me in hotel rooms and open spaces - they came back to me. In some hotel rooms, he would repeatedly beat me and when i dashed for the door to get out, he would just block it with a casual placement of his arm on the door. That was all it took for him to ensure that i couldn't get out of there. And of course, even if i got out of there, i would always go back.

The thought of me crumbling under authority - even pseudo authority - scared me.

So in the most recent conversation i had with Inji, she said that i shouldn't be comparing myself with Vai Vow. I had felt sad when i realized that he had managed to save what i saved in 8 months on a similar payscale within two months of his joining work. I felt like suing SRFTI for causing me all the expenses of therapy. In fact, i might just do it. But yes, i felt defeated - there - like a broken heart baby - when i thought of the fact that i could have earned much more if i didn't have to take pills or go to doctors or therapy. Felt disabled.

Yet, inji told me that the need to save was just not that important. It was to sustain myself that i needed a job. I spoke as if i had daughters to marry off. I spoke like my mother, she said. It hurt me. Not that i spoke like my mother but that speaking like my mother was not a good thing. I told her that i had problem taking money from my partner. He would have to pay my share of the rent in the coming months so that i can sustain myself on the meagre salary of the new job. She said that she had thought that i had gotten over it. No, i haven't. I feel that anyone who lends me money will then be able to have control over me. I wanted to be completely independent that way.

I cried during that conversation but yes, i am working on not trying to compare my earnings with Vai Vow's and also to not think of earning and saving so much. I thought of what to speak of. I remembered Ish saying that we would have to speak of Inji one whole session. One session? She would be giving one of her smirk shaped smileys.

Oh yeah, in the previous session Ish said that it was intriguing that i thought that me not noticing the maid cleaning up the room when i was in therapy was important. I don't know why it was important. It delighted me very much, in fact, surprised me, i think, that something like that could happen. I failed to notice that a human being had passed twice in front of me while i was speaking with Ish. Ish had explained how it was common. That people had failed to notice her pregnancy and were shocked when she informed them that she was going to go on leave. Just wonders of human mind and general astonishment i have when i learn things about it, i guess.

Women, Wardrobes and men who Just Don't get it | Shrink Tales

I just read the status message in which inji had tagged me. It said, 

‘I was lying. Fiercely independent is a mask to cover up lack of support system.’

Why are there so many broken souls in this place and why do they find each other? 

Reminded me of a series that i had started. ‘Broken Heart Babies’. I tend to think of myself as someone who was born with a broken heart. 

This was the first picture from the series that never saw a second picture. 

The Broken Heart Baby and Other Stories

On the day of therapy, i got up in the morning to fill water in the tank. Slept again only to be woken up by Deep. He is staying here for some time and threatens to stay for a long time every now and then. 

I had poha that he had ordered and was so happy with myself that i was being able to go for therapy even after working on the Saturday before. 
 

On train, around 1.30 p.m, i got a call from Ish and she asked me what had happened. Yes, i had one more point on my absent mindedness score sheet. I had thought that therapy was scheduled at 2 p.m. I don’t know how i managed to do that when Ish had messaged me that it was going to be at 1 and after me setting alarms based on it before going to bed the previous night.

I immediately felt defeated and angry. Defeated – I always consider it a battle. Everything. My body and mind. While i battle with my body on weight, subjecting it to strange eating habits, i battle with my mind who is forgetful and absent. The to-do lists and Google calendars are my tools. Spreadsheets for managing money and accounts. To defeat my mind that can’t remember directions, i often circle around my destination for more than an hour without asking people for directions.

When i reached my therapist with just ten minutes left of my session that i missed because my mind got the better of me, the first thing i did was to ask her if she thought i was lying. Lying that i had made a mistake in remembering or reading the time she had texted. That i was just running late and was pretending to have made a mistake so that i wouldn’t get reprimanded for it. She said ‘no’ so quickly that i felt it was true. She was even apologetic and asked me if she had made me feel that way. 'It's not you, it's me,' i said. That’s how my mind thought in such situations. I don’t know, why do i always think that people will disbelieve me?

Options:

• Because everyone disbelieved me when i said that i was raped or abused.
• Mother always thought i was lying about everything and i was lying most of the time too, i guess. So that she wouldn’t get angry with the truth. Truth being things like i was sleeping with a forty year old at 17 etc. 

Ish said a lot of things to make me feel better. About how i was doing very well till then and how people were people because they made mistakes etc. It calmed me down a bit. I don’t think it was because i believed her. Rather it was because i felt glad that she had taken the trouble to make me feel better. 

She asked me what i wanted to do with the ten or twenty minutes she could give me before the next person came. I said that i would read the ‘aftermath.’

We laughed a bit about my partner thinking that we both - my therapist and i were planning things that would affect him, me breaking up with him, for instance. ‘Why does he think so?’ she asked. I said that it could be because i did make a lot of decisions after talking to Inji and of late i had been talking very highly about Ish too. At night when he and i spoke over phone, he completely refuted my theory.

When i described my talks with my partner regarding sex, Ish asked if i thought that me missing the appointment in a bizarre manner was in any way related to the strain associated with the nature of our recent sessions. I was sure it wasn’t that. I always felt good before going to therapy. When i finish off the ‘aftermath’ for the next day, i feel like someone who is wrapping a gift for someone really special. I wonder how therapists live, with getting so many such gifts that are just nicely packed worries about our identities and existence and what not.

Ish said that it looked as if i was too much in love with my partner that she didn’t think i was anywhere near a thought of breaking up with him. She said i could be there for him. Just like how he was there for me. I felt cared for and loved by him so much so that i was willing to be vulnerable in front of him. Then it struck me that that was really something. My eating habits were probably the only vulnerability that i hadn’t exposed in front of him. It eventually became evident, but in so many other ways, i opened up my trunk of ghosts and despair in front of him in spite of having been abused and taken advantage of for the same reason by many other people.

In other words, he had helped me find my kind of love. I had to try to do the same thing for him.

I think i should try to be his mother because when he feels that i let him down, or that i might not want to be with him, that was where he planned to escape to.

I liked it when Ish said that i could leave the talks about sex with my partner there for him to go to when he felt like it, like how i had done with my wanting him to buy me new clothes.
[Note to self: people relate fast and better to metaphors made of their own experiences, speech or writing. Oh i take notes on how to change the world from all possible sources.]

I am now confused if i should drop more hints about those clothes or about renovating our sex life.

I didn’t talk about it the entire period and a day before therapy, he tried to initiate a conversation regarding that. I didn’t engage much.

The Goa trip was just weird. All those celebrities and free flowing money. Things that are capable of making me feel bad. Vai Vow being with me and Han joining us in Goa definitely helped. I shopped – bought a dress, a top and two anklets – after months of putting away my shopping needs.

Oh yeah, i blurted about the dropping of hints regarding Vai Vow buying me clothes to realize that everyone thought i had enough clothes because my cupboard was full of them. Deep joined in to make fun of women-clothes-shopping-what-do-i-wear stuff. I have no idea what men think of clothes. Apparently they don’t think enough.

I still haven’t found a job. Surprisingly, i have not got any panic attacks so far. Maybe because i have enough money to survive for another month. But i am worried that i am not worried about what is going to happen after a month. So one of the days when Mother got angry with me, i just imagined asking her for money like how it used to be till i got a job and that scared me. She would immediately take control over my life with money, i felt.

I should remind myself to write about the incident at the therapist’s during one session when i didn’t notice the woman who was cleaning up went in and out.

Sometimes i feel tired and useless and frustrated when i realize that for me to remember things is a battle. Not fair.

New Clothes are Definitely Coming. After Ten Years | Shrink Tales

I went to therapy thinking of my lethargy. Once a month comes a period of time when i know that i have a ton to do and yet all i want to and can do is sleep. Ish, my therapist, told me that i didn’t have to worry about that. Even though i didn’t have a job, there was something in my mind that told me that it was okay and that there would be a plan, eventually. It was true. There were thoughts lurking in the back of my mind regarding my career. No, not career, just ways of making money. 

When i told Ish that i had not started taking the medicines according to the new dosage prescribed by my psychiatrist, she tried her best to look angry and gave it to me. Yeah, now i will have to call the psychiatrist and get scolded by her too, probably, and start taking the new dosage but i felt that it was worth it when i saw Ish trying to put on an angry face. She told me that i was to message her after i spoke to the psychiatrist. She was ‘holding me accountable,’ she said. Like a lot of things, it sounded like a nice thing when she said it. Had it been Mother, i would probably have thrown a tantrum saying it was violation of my privacy or something such. 

[No, i did not call the psychiatrist. Started taking the new dosage.]

When i told her about Director of SRFTI, Debamitra Mitra’s letter to me congratulating me for the IFFI selection, she asked me if she (Debamitra) would have got what i meant through my reply. ‘No,’ i said, ‘because she is stupid.’ 

I just can’t stand that woman. Maybe i should write a postcard to her.

Later that week i did write to her again, when they sent the wrong disc for screening at Goa. It was not about what i wrote. I just wanted to let her know that i hated her, i guess. Here is the letter anyway. Even though she is a woman, i felt like humiliating her when i wrote that letter. In front of the Goa festival authorities – because everyone says it’s a big deal – like how she and many others had humiliated me. Below iss my letter.

This is outrageous.

Dear SRFTI,

First you make public my name, now everyone from my school, college etc can identify me as a 'rape victim' and now on top of that is this.

Please send the DCP. Copying HoD and Director, SRFTI to make a note of this. Also Vaibhav Hiwase, who faced a similar situation earlier. ICC Chairperson because of the nature of what you did.

Thanks! 

I wanted to scare her too, because that was all i had. But now after some days of writing the letter, and while writing it here for Ish to read, i kind of feel bad for her. I feel bad that i consider her stupid. Also that she is in love with or living with a complete abuser. 

I hope what LJ once told me about Jay (ex-lover) is true. When Ga told me that she was seeing Jay, i asked her to be careful. Extremely cautious about getting physical with him. When i told this to LJ, she got angry with me and asked me why i had said that. I told her that i was warning her, because of how Jay was with me. Then she said something that stuck in my head like how some of Ish’s statements do. She asked me how i knew that Jay would be abusive with everyone. He could be in love with Ga, they could be having a really good time. If it had been a mallu film, one could have easily added a bleaching of the screen to indicate an epiphany over there. LJ probably thought it was just sexual jealousy and not concern for Ga that made me say that. I no longer remember what it was. But yes, that was when i even started thinking of people who had hurt me having a completely normal life, being absolutely loving and caring to other people. 

Speaking of sexual jealousy, my partner and i again had talks. It kind of half-broke my heart. Whenever i talk to him about the problems in my sex life, i feel that he is a baby and that i am the only person who will pick him up when he is crying. Like a neglected child. I want to hold him close and smother him in an attempt to take all the sadness away. Yet, holding his cold hands, i spoke to him about us going to a doctor. 

His hands become cold whenever i talk about it. It happens when he is scared. 

I think problems in a woman's sex life, an abused woman's sex life have to be seen in the light of the social setting of the place. For most men, before they meet their first lover/wife etc. their biggest fear is if they will be able to 'perform'. It's after becoming physically intimate with respective partners that they are assuaged. Now if a woman one day tells this man, she is having problems in her sex life and she would like him to help her, the notion of maleness created by the society will make him doubt himself. That's the curse of patriarchy. It's shitty and useless.

And the woman, especially if it is one like me, waiting to feel guilty, will take it upon herself. She will feel guilty of having made the partner feel bad. I remembered how my partner had returned home upset one night after i had had the talk. Even when i asked repeatedly that day, he had just said that he had just felt like seeing his mother. 

In my paranoid mind the thought of going back to his mother probably rose from it being that one space where he wouldn’t be judged by his ‘manhood’. Rather that was the space where ‘manhood’ was to be removed at the entrance, like footwear, before entering. 

My partner asked me if my therapist had asked me to leave him if he didn't agree with us going to a doctor. I said no and buried him in my bosom, as much as i could. I then repeated the thing that brought tears to my eyes at the session. 

Ish had said that it showed that i loved him a lot because even when i feared that he would leave me once we went to a doctor, i wanted us to do it. For all the selfishness i have, i couldn’t bring myself to hide it from him that there was a solution or a possibility. True that i would also feel great if i could have a better sex life (i still don’t want to believe this). It could be selfish.

Not having a job is eating my brain in just small ways, i guess. Like i got angry thinking that i always bought Vai Vow clothes when i felt he needed some and even though he had started earning so much, he was not even thinking of buying me anything before going to Goa. Of course i am still waiting for him to figure it out himself. So i expect to get some new clothes from him after ten years. Men! 

When i pulled out a red pen to scribble something, i thought of the exercise that my earlier psychologist, Ms. Mullick had asked me to do. Scribble on pages with red ink pen when i felt like harming myself. I could also clench ice in my fist or take a cold shower. When Mother heard this, she bought me a red pen. I felt really bad thinking of Mother. She was always buying me things to get me out of my problems, i felt. Even when she gave me money to make films, she probably just saw it as a means in which her girl would be less sad.

I named her as the person who would come with me to Goa with free tickets. 

Vai Vow made fun of me saying that no one went to Goa with parents. That’s okay, she is not parents. She is Mother. She bought me pens. 

Thought for therapy today, will my partner be okay?

Job's Gone, Want to Sleep, Want to Give Up | Shrink Tales

So my job's gone. The company is shutting down. I just have a couple of weeks left to find another job, if i want to find another job, that is. I say 'if' because my new tantrum is lethargy. I just don't want to do any work. I just want to sleep all the time. Thoughts of SRFTI - the film school that has a great role in my mental health problems - keep coming to me and make me sad. 

My film 'Gi' got selected in International Film Festival of India [IFFI], Goa. I have been told that it is a big deal. I didn't know it was. Now with this achievement, people who had harmed and hurt me for no reason, started speaking with me. Tagging me on Facebook, accepting congratulations, i still don't understand what is so great about this. 

On top of that, the Director of SRFTI, that woman who lives with Shyamal Sengupta, a professor who sexually harassed me and many more women, and who drove me to suicide the last time i went to SRFTI, sent me a letter congratulating me. 

I am extremely elated to learn that your film has been selected for this year's IFFI. Like any head of an institution, I feel immensely proud for your achievement. This feat, so early in your career, speaks volumes about your talent and ingenuity.

I wish you a great and successful career ahead.

Blessings,

This was her message. I couldn't believe it. I always try to be nice towards women but this was just beyond me and i wrote this scathing reply.

Dear Debamitra,

I am extremely intrigued by the level of your shamelessness. Like any woman who has been subjected to sexual harassment and wronged by the system, I feel immensely sorry for you. This vengeance, even while being a woman who is much older than me speaks volumes about your inherent patriarchy and insensitivity.

I hope you apologise to every woman whom you have failed in SRFTI, including me.

Intrigued,
kunjila

People who had attacked me and other fighter women are now seen 'liking' posts on Facebook regarding the achievement. I always say 'we' and 'our' while talking about the films i direct but with this film i have always been careful to say 'my'. It is just my hard work because everyone within and outside the crew was just trying to push me against the wall and make my job so so difficult. Assholes, all of them!

I spoke to my partner about the problems in our sex life. May be we will go to a doctor one day. But it was news to me when during therapy, Ish explained how men lost their virginity by masturbation and it never really mattered just because they were men. She told me that male foreskin going back would be painful to most men. 

Regarding problems that arose out of being abused as a child, she said that it usually resulted in erectile dysfunction, ejaculating soon etc. for men. Hey have you ever had this experience where you bring up abuse with a male and they tell you a story of how they were abused as a child? Just thought of that. Because science just told me it results in different problems.

You know what, while i want to have a better sex life, i also am scared that my loving relationship with my partner will change and become violent as soon as it happens. Because i have always felt that the act of penetration itself is violent and it is impossible to do it without being at least a little violent towards your female partner's body. I fear that this will change everything and the one relationship where i am not being abused will turn into abuse.

Maybe i should stop thinking about sex. I don't see this going anywhere. I mean, we ended on a note where i said jokingly that my partner would soon find someone else when we fixed our problem. She said that we would have to talk about that notion. Of course, it springs from my low self esteem and needed attention but i am in some zone where nothing really matters. I just want to sleep. 

Ish asked me why i was scared of hurting my partner by talking about sex. I consider him fragile. I remember the time when i had mailed Han about having feelings for him. My partner had read it and was weeping when i came back to the room. Oh! I would never ever want him to be in such a position. I reprimanded myself so much for that seeing how hurt he was. 

I feel he is precious. Too precious that he had to be kept away from me because i have violence within me. I could hurt him.

Scared of a Relapse, Sex Talks Continue | Shrink Tales

I was anxious when i left for therapy. I was not sure of what had happened the previous week, with me bunking office and cancelling train tickets. I was scared it was a relapse and that Ish, my therapist would confirm my fear. 

When i read the aftermath [what Ish calls these writings], Ish told me that i had got the postcard idea wrong. It was not necessary that the postcard had to be to people whom i hated. [I had failed to come up with results for this definition.] It could be people i was angry with or people who hurt me a lot. That was easy, i thought. I was to do it on the Saturday before the therapy Sunday. 

It was a relief when she said that my sleeping and cancelling plans and not working were not signs of relapse, but of a sense of relief. When i had gone to the psychiatrist, she had reduced the dosage of one of my pills – Lithium. When she gave me the feeling that i had gained weight, it didn’t not affect me as much as it usually does. These were positive signs and proof that i was improving. May be my mind wanted to relish those moments by not doing anything. 

Sex still continues to be a problem. When i think of it i think of a tortoise. I feel that it is a part of me that cannot be penetrated – [the choice of word is intentional because i am a genius. No, it was accidental.] There is a difference in the way that therapy has become ever since i started discussing this problem of mine. As always, i shall try to express the feeling in words so that i get more clarity myself. 

Up until now, whenever Ish told me what she thought of what i thought, i had been able to distance myself from myself and think of it and see that it was true. Even her suggestions like asking me to try to talk to Mother about her – gave me hope. Here, however, like a tortoise, i felt that i had this thick shell on me that even Ish would not be able to crack. It was something only LJ could crack, i felt. But then again, LJ too was a victim and an asexual being. So speaking to her about sex would just make me feel even worse. I mean my life’s goal is to be asexual like her.

The problem is that i don’t think the way i feel about sex is something that came to me naturally. Like me being sexually attracted to women – it came naturally and it was not introduced to me by anyone. But penile penetration was ‘introduced’ [read rape] though violence. It was common that through such experiences of violence you started to get pleasure out of the act itself. 

Me thinking that my partner only wanted my body, constantly checking what he would do if i didn’t have sex with him. Perhaps it was related to LJ. She, when she said that her husband loved her, also spoke about how he waited for her at night, a man who is used to sleeping early. About how much he loved her even though they had sex maybe just once a year. Yes, in previous therapy sessions i had realized that there was no point in seeking a perfect kind of love but still i yearn for that, i feel.

Ish told me about trust. Like a litmus test, i used sex as a test where i would be able to tell if the man is right for me or not. Where i was most vulnerable. This made a lot of sense to me. It really looked as if i used sex for the said purpose. May be this was why LJ once hurt me so much by telling me that i slept with people at the drop of a hat.

Inji told me that i sounded tired. Went to the bank to open an account only to see that the bank had shut for the day. I had forgotten to check it online before leaving. Absent mindedness was creeping in.

I liked it when Ish said that she took care to constantly remind me that i was doing good. I realized how that had actually helped me. I would come back home and squeak to my partner that Ish had said that i was making progress. To see the smile on his face. I wish Mother was able to see me too, going through this process of healing. She would also then be able to understand, looking at me, that healing is possible. I know! I should tell her whenever i see that she is making progress! Wow! Why didn’t i think of this earlier! 

Han asked me something: Why don’t you ask for things? Why don’t you ever ask for help? With luggage, internet, everything – i don’t know when this started. 

Me getting startled when people call me, touch has always been a problem – but when a co-worker always answers to your call with a start, it looks awkward. It just struck me because i am interacting with more people and so more occasions of them calling me are arising. I do have one memory of this happening in degree and how Athulya had said that i was making it up.

Good thing – resumed reading. 

I have started seeing Mother everywhere. Like on the road, i would think that Mother was walking when i saw someone with hair plaited, wearing salwar kameez. 

I am having a great time talking to Mother now. But i realised that she is a broken human being. May be more than me. 

She wants to do things to people who abused me. It is not  just about them having done things to me. It is that she holds them responsible for ruining the family life she and her husband had envisaged for us. It might be her way of running away from taking responsibility, something i do too, by blaming these men. She wouldn’t blame her husband whom she loved and lost. It was better channelizing her anger to these men who in any case deserved to be punished. 

I told her how i had, through therapy, gotten over abuse. How i look at those periods differently now. I didn’t want to hang the abusers or ruin their lives. It was the victim’s prerogative after all. Mother didn’t seem convinced. She has, in the past created ruckus in places in public where she had spotted some of these men. It was highly probable, with Mallu land being an even smaller world than the already small world.

How can she be healed, i thought. And i felt that it was up to me. 

However easy i thought it would be for me to draw a picture postcard to person or people who hurt me, i drew a blank on Saturday when i sat in front of the book. I drew a copy of a photo from long ago, in which Mother and baby me were there. She was carrying me on her shoulder and looking at me with so much love in her eyes that the whole photo was about that love. I just wrote ‘aren’t we both awesome’ in the message part. 

Did i just realize that i have nothing to say to those people who hurt me? I’ll find out soon, i guess.