Pamela Sinha Mathur's Blog

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Happy weekend folks! Of course, this salutation doesn’t quite pack the same punch it had done once upon a not so distant time, a time that I and many others across the world have fondly come to remember as the pre-COVID days. You know the time I am referring to, when weekends meant happy hours or dining out with family or gathering at a friend’s place for impromptu parties. Now the COVID-19 pandemic has left us with a real-life rendition of Groundhog Day, wherein we are living the same day over and over again, with no end in sight. And yes, I realize how depressing this sounds so lets just change the topic, shall we? Though we won’t stray too far away …

So, I wanted to share some thoughts on a book I recently read, or rather, re-read. This book came out in 2013 and featured a rather dashing American professor who has a penchant for sprinting around famous European cities to unravel secrets mired within layers of history, mythology and the occasional pinch of science fiction. I am, of course, talking about Robert Langdon – a character created by the author Dan Brown and brought to life on the silver screen by the actor lovingly dubbed as America’s dad, Tom Hanks. And the book I am referring to is Inferno, Robert Langdon’s last but one outing till date.

When I had first read this book, back when it had come out in 2013, I remember I had not been too impressed. While I had loved Angels & Demons and had thoroughly enjoyed The Da Vinci Code, I had felt that the following Robert Langdon novels had settled into something of a well trodden rut, churning out the same drama over and over again, albeit in different settings each time around. Anyway, I had read the book and then put it out of my mind till a couple of days back when I discovered its Kindle version on my phone. Having nothing else to do, and studiously ignoring the pile of unread books I had recently got from the library, I started reading Inferno again. And it turned out to be quite an interesting experience this time around.

At the risk of giving out spoilers, at the heart of the plot is the threat of an eventual global collapse. At one place, the book references an excerpt from Thomas Robert Malthus’ An Essay on the Principle of Population which drives home a rather terrifying point – that the only way to counteract the dangers of a burgeoning population is by the way of a widespread culling of humans (see image below).

I don’t know about you but this really hit close to home. For years, experts having been warning against the hubris of the human race in assuming that an endless source of resources exist to sustain us. Forests are being encroached upon and many species are going extinct. The impact on our Earth’s natural balance may not be evident now but there is no doubt that we are at the precipice of disaster. That is why a part of me is wondering if this COVID-19 pandemic is Nature’s rebellion against our way of life. As it is, this one virus has completely upended life as we know it and continues to do so. If this is indeed our Earth fighting back, who knows what other terrors lurk in the shadows,waiting for their chance to level the playing field? When Dan Brown had written Inferno, I doubt he would have anticipated a day when echoes of real life could be heard among the words he had put to paper. Then again, who among us had anticipated we would be living in a world like the one we are occupying right now?

On Sunday, the 14th of June 2020, India and Indians everywhere woke up to the news of the death of Sushant Singh Rajput, a well known Indian actor. He committed suicide at the young age of 34 years and initial reports suggest that a history of clinical depression may have been the reason behind him taking this extreme step. Only a few days before, his former manager, Disha Salian, had also been found dead, another suspected suicide. One can only wonder if that had been the final nail in the coffin – a tragic incident that had confirmed his view that the world had nothing left to offer that was worth living for.

It is very easy to say that suicide is not a solution for depression or that those who take this extreme step are not mentally strong enough to live life with its ups and downs. I am sure we have all heard someone tell us that we are not the only one with problems. That millions of kids go hungry everyday, that there are people who have been chased out of their homes by war and strife, that human beings are bought and sold everyday … the list goes on and on. These are some the horrible things that happen in our world everyday, there is no denying that fact. The problem arises when we think that we can help someone who is depressed by merely pointing out how privileged they are in comparison.

Then again, how many us actually have the capability of recognizing the danger signs relating to mental health? What most people do not realize is that depression is not something that can be dismissed by being positive and upbeat. We will never tell someone battling cancer to just snap out of it but if someone is perceived as downcast or sad, chances are we will just dismiss him or her with a pithy ‘I am sure everything will be alright” or “Stop dwelling on your negative thoughts. Not to say that we do this out of malice or insensitivity – it is just that we do not know how to handle the situation. Our understanding of mental health is limited to a cycle of cause and effect. It is easier for us to accept that someone committed suicide due to financial instability but we keep on wondering what could prompt a celebrity, a person adulated by millions, someone who outwardly had everything going for him, to end his life. There is no tangible cause here and so the questions come. Why didn’t he talk to anyone? Why didn’t the people around him understand? Why did no one help him? What could have possibly gone so wrong that such a promising life was cut short?

Chances are, people had tried to help. They had talked to him, had tried to keep him positive, had tried to cheer him up in every way they could. Yet maybe, every time, he had been told to stay positive and to look for the bright side of life, a little voice in his head had told him how useless he was for disappointing all his well wishers. Maybe he had just not been able to stop the darkness in his head and he had convince himself that it had all been on him. He had it all, didn’t he, the love and the support that many have to live without and yet he had not been able to do the one thing that had been asked of him. And so he had pretended – pretended to smile, to laugh, to be the life and soul of the party. Maybe had he pretended so well that even those in the know had thought that he had recovered, that he had gone back to being the same person he had been before the dark shadows had overtaken him. And so this farce had continued till one night the facade had slipped away and he had been all alone and it had just been easier to stop playing the part and succumb to the blessed release of death. It had probably only taken a moment but it had been a moment he had not been able to look back from.

Depression is a disease, a silent killer if left unchecked. It is a disease which requires the intervention of a medical professional, just like cardiac disease or even a broken bone. Yoga and meditation and spending time with family and friends can help the process but like any other disease these are not the cure. Yet conversations about mental health continue to be swept under the carpet everyday. Studies suggest that 1 in 7 women suffer from postpartum depression but rarely are family members cautioned about the signs to look out for. India has one of the highest suicide rates among the age group of 15-29 yet even today youngsters live under the constant pressure of living up to a myriad of expectations. The concept of therapy – though it is slowly becoming more prevalent – is still considered as something that is an indicator of insanity and therefore taboo in a society that prides itself on perfection. Rarely does a day go by without at least one suicide not being reported in the news and all we do is read it and spend a few minutes feeling sorry before going on with our lives.

The truth is all of us go through lows in our lives. Who among us have never lost a loved one, gotten fired, had a bad breakup, lost their financial stability, failed an exam … the list can go on and on. Some of us can bounce back, but for some, it may seem that they are teetering on the edge of a deep abyss. Even an insignificant pebble shifting under their feet can cause them to plunge down headlong, never to resurface. The need of the hour is to remove the stigma that is associated with issues pertaining to mental health. Let us talk about it and share our own stories and maybe there will be those who will listen and tell themselves that they are not as alone as they had imagined, that maybe there is someone in their corner who would understand what they are going through. Maybe.

Rest In Peace, Sushant Singh Rajput

The year 2020 has been a very strange year so far. Of all the calamities that could befall mankind, no lay person could have thought that it could have come to this – that a virus could bring the world to its collective knees. As we wade through these unknown waters, struggling to stay afloat in a turbulent ocean with no relief in sight for a foreseeable future, we look to the world of arts and entertainment to divert our minds from the havoc wreaked by Coronavirus. Probably, that is why when we were greeted on two consecutive days by the news of the passing of two Bollywood greats, Indians all across the world felt like they had been punched in the gut.

In 2018, Irrfan Khan had shocked his fans by announcing that he had been diagnosed with an advanced case of a rare neuroendocrine cancer. “I had been in a different game,” he had said in a moving post, “I was travelling on a speedy train ride, had dreams, plans, aspirations, goals, was fully engaged in them. And suddenly someone taps on my shoulder and I turn to see. It’s the TC: “Your destination is about to come. Please get down.” I am confused: “No, no. My destination hasn’t come.” “No, this is it. This is how it is sometimes.” Poignant and gut-wrenching all at once, these simple words had succinctly described the journey that is life. Every moment that we take for granted is a moment waiting to upend all that we have ever known. On April 28, 2020, when the news of his death broke on news channels, it was as if we had lost one of our own. Here was an artiste who has made it big without having the traditional hero looks or a godfather to promote him in the industry. Here was an actor who had made a successful foray into Hollywood, whether distinguishing himself as the protagonist in Life of Pi or making his mark in blockbusters like Jurassic World or The Amazing Spider-man. And if anyone had ever asked me just how he could have convincingly played the love interest of leading ladies of the likes of Deepika Padukone or Konkona Sen Sharma, I would tell them to watch him smiling on the silver screen before asking again.

Barely had our shock set in when, on the very next day, another thespian also lost his battle with cancer. The actor with the boyish looks, the one over whom millions of women have swooned over the years, the one and only Rishi Kapoor passing away was every bit as sobering as the news of Irrfan Khan’s death. While movies like Bobby and Saagar had made Rishi Kapoor a household name, I will always remember his portrayal of the social reformer in Prem Rog, the menacing human trafficker in Agneepath or the well meaning middle class dad in Do Dooni Char. He came from an illustrious lineage but that had not been his only claim to fame. In a world dominated by brawny, alpha male heroes, he had etched his own place in the landscape of the Indian film industry. His had surely been a talent that would be sorely missed.

Today we are all helpless in the face of an unknown enemy. We are learning what it is like to lose control of our carefully crafted lives, to not know what will come our way the next day. In a way, the passing of these two celebrities underscores the ephemeral nature of life – here one day and gone the next. Nothing can change this – no matter if you are a star of the silver screen or a lay person working day in and day out at a 9-5 job. Maybe that is why these losses feel so personal because, at the end, all of us have the same fate waiting in the wings. All we can hope for is to leave behind a legacy to be cherished. These two thespians have done precisely that in their lifetimes and that is what will keep them alive in our hearts for year to come. The greatest tribute we can pay to them is to follow the path they have laid down and embrace our gifts to become the best versions of ourselves. Rest in peace, Irrfan Khan and Rishi Kapoor. We will miss you.

On December 31, 2019, nobody could have predicted what the world would look like a mere 3-4 months later. Now, we are in the month of April and the year 2020 as already ensured its prominent place in the annals of history. For the first time in forever, human being all over the world are confined to their homes as a virus, a submicroscopic agent wreaks havoc with life as we have known it. Airplanes have been grounded, bustling railway stations are empty and cars are sitting in their garages while Nature takes this unexpected break to heal. There are no more parties, no more night outs, no more shopping expeditions. In these unprecedented times, when the future remains uncertain from one day to the next, families and friends are separated by insurmountable geographical distance. Technology remains our only connection to each other, but it is difficult to have a conversation without referring to the elephant in the room – COVID-19 – once, or, you know, a million times.

Then, one day, I realized something. I was speaking with my mother and, just to change the topic, she started talking about the Bengali movies she had watched recently on various streaming platforms. Noting the names, I looked them up the very same day and started watching one of them – Mukherjee Dar Bou. As I watched the movie, I realized that, locked in our homes as we are, people are increasingly turning to the world of arts and literature for solace. One only needs to look at the proliferation on online content that has cropped up on social media – what are these but different ways of telling a story?

In these bleak times, however, there is a need for well written and well executed content and it is heartening to see the changing face of Indian cinema when it comes down to this. Take the movie I mentioned before – Mukherjee Dar Bou which roughly translates to Mr. Mukherjee’s Wife. The movie explores the complex dynamic between a woman and her mother in-law. Forever squabbling, the duo’s relationship gets a new lease of life under the guidance of a therapist who helps them to appreciate each others’ point of view. It is a tale simply told but there are moments that simply tug at the heartstrings. The elder Mrs. Mukherjee reminded me of my own maternal grandmother and some of the scenes seemed like pages out of my own life, so intimately familiar were they.

And that, to me, is the mark of good storytelling. Fancy stunts and flashy locales can take you only so far – what remains memorable are the way characters and their stories are fleshed out. The little details, the nuances – these are what make a story, any story rise above being simply average. That is what makes a movie or a book special to me and as an author, that is what I strive to capture in every book.

So here is to staying safe and enjoying the magical world of storytelling. Cheers!

I love weekend mornings. I am usually the first one to rise and since my
family likes to sleep in, I get to have a glorious hour all to myself. As the
water for the tea bubbles merrily on the gas burner, I go around the first
floor of my house, opening the blinds and letting the sunlight stream in. Then,
once the tea is ready, it’s just me, a hot cuppa with a biscuit or two to dunk
in and a book to whisk me away to lands and stories unknown. And then, there is
the joy of discovering a new gem, of reading some words that reel you in,
compelling you to go over them again and again, simply to marvel at the emotion
they manage to convey. As far as I am concerned, reading books is an experience
nothing short of magical.

As it happens, however, not everyone shares my view. It’s all too common, unfortunately, to come across folks who barely like to read. While everyone is entitled to their own choices in life, what irks me about such people is the tendency among them to laugh at avid readers, trying to insinuate that the latter are just nerds who are trying to escape their stagnant lives by burying their noses in books. Newsflash, that’s not what it is about but that’s a rant for another time. And then there is the other group. They are erudite, these people who show off their bookshelves with pride. Yet they cannot help curling their lips with the faintest hint of a sardonic smile the moment they hear me say I like to read fiction. For them, serious reading equates non fiction – books that philosophize and educate; fiction, to them, is akin nothing more than entertainment for the masses. It’s something like comparing Oscar winning movies to Salman Khan blockbusters – so great is the divide in their minds.

Here is the thing tough – fiction often gets a bad rep. True, there is plenty of trash littering the landscape but that doesn’t take away the fact that there are also some gems out there. I am not disparaging non-fiction – they are certainly a fount of knowledge. But fiction can present a unique perspective that is not usually possible in non-fiction. An accomplished author can present situations that force readers to think, to walk a while in another’s shoes. They open up lands of fantasy to let our imaginations roam wild. A good work of fiction can expand our minds and make us better human beings. They share the horrors of the past so that we may learn from those mistakes. Even a popular series like Harry Potter touches upon the dangers of a totalitarian government and the importance of standing up for what is right. So, hang on to your non fiction folks, but do not look down upon us who enjoy a good fictional yarn. Instead, ask us for a recommendation because we will not hesitate to ask you for one. Happy reading!

International Women’s Day is upon us, again. Every year, on March 8, womankind is celebrated almost all over the world, their achievements are lauded, they are pampered with gifts and so on and so forth. It feels nice to be appreciated, there is no doubt about that. It is when that we need a reminder to do so, when we have to set a day apart for it, that’s where the problem begins.

Being a woman in the twenty first century is hard. We have rewarding careers that we love (well most of the time). We also have families that need to be looked after – parents to care for, spouse to cherish, children to raise. We are poised between two worlds. One of these is from the past where a woman’s primary duty lay within the four walls of the home, when she was a wife and a mother even if she were professionally working. The other is the present day where women are increasingly taking control of their own destinies by striving for their dreams. Yet the yoke of the past till ties us down. The expectation of us is that we should all be superwomen, balancing home and work with consummate ease. But that is easier said than done.

Even today, in most families, it is the woman who is burdened with the mental load of getting things done. Yes, spouses are far more aware of their responsibilities and most of them do their bets to help around the house. But women do not need help, they need someone to share the load. They need to take up some of the work of their own accord and not wait for specific instructions to be given to them. The mental load is something that is invisible and, hence, is often overlooked. “All you did was cook the food” may be a common grouse from a husband tasked with the accusation that he does not pull his weight around the house. Umm no, that’s usually not true. The act of actually cooking the food is the only visible and quantifiable part of the process which starts with running through the list of things currently languishing in the refrigerator at the moment. Then comes a process of elimination, whereby the freshest items are set aside in favor of the food stuff that may be on the verge of expiry. Once what needs to be cooked is finally decided, its time to figure out how to cook it. Other factors matter here – like should it be a dry preparation to go with chapati or should there be some gravy for the rice that needs to be finished up as well. But then the kids wanted pooris and the husband wants to keep his cholesterol under control. By the time the meal prep actually starts, the lady of the house is already exhausted. I mean, it’s exhausting to even write this whole thing down. And this is not only for cooking – each and every task undertaken in a household has this kind of decision making happening in the background.

And now consider a scenario when the spouse decides to be an equal partner in the process. On Sunday, he looks into the refrigerator and draws up a list of what can be cooked over the next five days. And that is it. This one thing can reduce a wife’s mental workload drastically. Mornings are another great opportunity to lessen this load. Men, just take over one task – even something as simple as laying out your kids’ clothes the night before and making sure their bags are packed for school. Your wife, who is hurrying to pack lunches and prepare breakfast and get ready herself, will appreciate this one task taken off her plate. So this International Women’s Day, forget about those chocolates and flowers (don’t really forget, though!). Instead gift the women in your life a lessening of the burden that they carry around with them all the time. Please remember that women don’t want to be superwoman; they want to be considered as human, just like you. Happy Women’s Day.