Suicide they say is the act of cowardice, the act of running away, the act of avoiding the problem instead of looking for a solution.
Every now and then, something happens around us, that makes us stop and think. And sometimes, it becomes the black hole in our brains, sucking in the various random thoughts we've had at different times, weaving them together and giving expression to our most secretly guarded opinions. Last week, an acquaintance of mine committed suicide. She was in her mid thirties, a mother of two. Her older daughter is a fourteen year old, trying to make sense of life and its intricacies, henceforth all by herself. The younger one, merely six years old, learning opposites like present and absent, alive and dead, in school and now, in life.
As a young girl in my teens, I was a very positive person. I believed everything happened for a reason, and a good one at that. Then I got married. Marriage is a strict teacher. A tyrant. It not only teaches you that there are times when you're not right, it also assures you that, in fact, you are always wrong. In school, we were appreciated for being inquisitive. Here however, every question is supposed to be the start of an argument, and every explanation only a reflection of our stubbornness and inability to agree. I began to question my faith. It led to a phase when optimism was hard to gather.
I read a news piece once. A woman killed her husband by repeatedly hitting him on his head with a hard blunt object and then hung herself. She left behind an inconsolable 18 month old constantly asking for her mom, and a stunned three year something to tell the tale. The story was unbelievable. As per the three year old, her mommy was very upset with daddy for not taking them out. "Papa ghumane nahi le ke jaate the, isiliye mummy ko unpe gussa aata tha. Papa ne kaha, nahi le ke jaaonga, fir mummy ne unhe maara. Fir mummy ne fan pe dupatta daala aur.."
How stupid! What nonsense! How could she? She didn't even think of her kids!!
The reactions everywhere were the same, but secretly I understood. I didn't agree, but I understood. Their life started playing in my head. I could see her get up every morning, after her sleepless nights with two little daughters getting up constantly for milk and urination, and send her older one to school. She'd then prepare her husband's breakfast and lunch, running between the kitchen and the bedroom, sometimes her husband calling out for his towel, sometimes the little one for milk. And when he'd leave, she'd tell him how her daily routine tires her, and a little change would be nice. "Can we go out tonight?" "We'll see"
The hope of getting some fresh air is like 'birbal's khichadi'. Just like the distant diya in the emperor's window kept the pandit warm on a cold night in freezing water, likewise, sometimes, the only thing that keeps you going through an inexhaustibly tiring mundane routine with cranky kids trying to pull your hair out, is that little glimmer at the end of the tunnel. That little outing which would inspire you to comb your hair, wear your new clothes and put on that lipstick. And then, when at the end of the day, day after day, you are refused that little thing, life can get frustrating. Its a different story when you can't afford it, although, even going to the temple qualifies as a change and can be extremely refreshing. But the frustration crosses all limits when your spouse doesn't believe you're important enough to deserve it. And you begin to question why life's so unfair. It's not like you're asking for something big or unreasonable. It was not difficult for me to imagine that moment when she lost it, and rage took over. And its sad. Its sad that Indian women are so dependent upon their men for little things like 'taking them out' Its sad that some men use that as a weapon to control their women, to show them 'their place'. Its sad that she was so frustrated in that one moment that she didn't think about her kids. Its sad that she did it and its sad, that I understand.
Then there was once a piece of news. A woman poisoned her two kids and committed suicide. In her suicide note, she didn't blame anybody. She addressed the note to her husband and wrote, "I have failed to be a good wife, and you deserve better. I'm taking my kids with me. I don't want to burden anyone with their responsibility. I want to leave you free to start afresh."
Killing little kids who haven't even seen life! Mother turns monster! What right did she have?
 There was outrage over her act. But secretly, I understood. Time and again, marriage tells us that we're not good enough wives, and we're not good enough mothers. The food does not have enough salt, the clothes haven't been washed properly , the dining table's not clean enough. How exactly the amount of salt in the food measures a woman's 'ability' as a wife is something that continues to be a mystery. But this kind of evaluation is prevalent in every house in the country, maybe even beyond. And since one isn't allowed the questions, it is not unlikely for a woman to lose all self esteem and resign to the fact that she's always wrong, and pretty much good for nothing. Anger turns into resentment, resentment into depression and depression into guilt. The guilt of not being a good enough wife, a good enough daughter in law and worst of all, a good enough mother. And when a person's been depressed long enough, she has enough time to contemplate the consequences of her actions. And as mothers, our kids are our foremost responsibility. From the beginning of times, the mother in every species has the primary duty of being there for the kids, to help them grow and learn.
What after me? she'd have wondered. Who's going to look after them? Who would they depend upon? I can't leave them wailing and crying and looking for me. I must take them. If I go alone, people will say 'She didn't even think of her kids'. I must think of them. I must discharge my responsibilities first. And 'discharge' she did. I completely disagree, but I understand.
The motive of this piece is neither to glorify suicide, nor to justify it. Everyone goes through difficult times in life, times that seem never to end, and pain that seems never to cease. Times that boil down to that one moment that fills us with anger, frustration and rage. But it is important not to let that moment be our enemy, not to let that rage cloud our judgement. It is most essential to stay calm and let that moment pass. And once we do, times get better. But that's when we get to that moment. Life, however, would be most beautiful if we never get to that moment. And to make that possible, the women in our country need to stand up and take responsibility for their happiness. As long as our happiness remains a function of the actions of people around us, we'd continue to feel helpless and miserable. Although how a daughter is raised today has changed a lot as compared to the previous generations, the expectations and parameters of an Indian daughter in law are more or less the same. Consequently, the contrast between life before marriage, and the one thereafter is massive. Hence the disappointments, the distress and the disillusionment. Women today need to make the most of their better upbringing, to be able to stand up for themselves.  Life is precious, rare and beautiful. We deserve to enjoy it. Every little step counts.
The suicide of the lady I talked about at the beginning, came as a shock, especially so as she appeared to be a confident lady, quite in control of her life. A well educated girl, she was married into an orthodox family. However, soon after her first baby, she started doing things for herself. She started off with taking tuition for little kids at home. After a couple of years, she started teaching aerobics to young women. She also learnt a couple of musical instruments, and was an active participant at the kirtans in the gurudwara. Just a couple of days before her suicide, she told women in the locality that she was starting dance classes for kids. Of course, none of this tells us what her personal life was like. Yet, she was always mentioned by my mom as an inspiration to housewives. 'You don't need a job to do something worthwhile in your time' my mum would tell me. 'Just look at Nikki' It continues to haunt me, how a lady as confident, as able and as ambitious as her, gave up on life, and gave up on her kids. Why she did it, I still can't understand. No matter how bad things get, I believe life deserves a chance. After all, the fact that you're still breathing means just one thing.. picture abhi baaki hai, mere dost.
P.S. The author is once again a positively positive person. She has a loving husband, two beautiful kids, and a life that's looking up.