Facing mortality – why are we so scared of it?

Pottering around the house in an ad break in the middle of a random ha-ha movie monkey and I are watching, I hear a snippet from an ad for another movie. Naseeruddin Shah asks, in voice over “kya aap apni biwi ke saath discuss karte hain, har sham, ke darling tum coma me chali gayin to kitne din life support me rehna pasand karogi?” (Do you discuss, every evening, with your wife – “darling, if you went into a coma, how long would you like to be kept on life support?”). And my immediate answer is yes! Maybe not every evening, but topics like these have been part of regular conversations both in my natal home while I was growing up, and now, in my marital unit. They happen often enough that my man and my child are in no doubt whatsoever of EXACTLY how long I would wish to be on life support in such circumstances (ZERO days).

Other important conversations along similar themes include a Do Not
Resuscitate order, should I ever be hospitalized with something severe enough; an organ donation desire, for all possible organs and the whole body/cadaver if possible; the absolute desired absence of any type of religious activities surrounding death, funeral, “peace of the soul” etc; dispensation of my most prized possessions after I am gone; and much more. To me, this is beyond normal. I grew up with my parents having these conversations with us kids, and I attribute to those conversations the strength and calmness with which we as a unit dealt with my Father’s diagnosis of Lung Cancer, his rapid decline, and eventual death in 2017.

But this ad tells me that these are not normal conversations for most people. And I think that’s silly. It is, of course, in keeping with the whole Indian ethos of never speaking of serious illness (everyday ones we cannot shut up about) or death, especially with children. As a culture, we also do not say things like “after I am dead...” for fear of it happening if we dare speak it. Even if you say something like that, people around you will shush you, tell you not to say such things… as if not saying it will in any way, shape, or form, manage to prevent the occurrence. We forget that death and the possible eventualities surrounding it is the one big truth of life. Whatever else happens or does not happen to us, death will, and possibly sooner than we are ready for it.

I see no reason to not be prepared for it. Speaking about something, even something dreadful, speaking often and regularly, normalizes the event. I would rather that I, my guy, and my kid, are prepared for eventualities rather than suddenly washed away by events and not know what to do. I want my kid to know that death exists (after all it is hardly likely a 14-year-old has never faced or heard of it) and while it is painful for those left behind, it is just another part of the natural cycle. I believe the fact that these conversations have always happened at home, and without excluding the monkey, are the reason for the mature handling of the death of a much beloved grandfather. Sure, it was a shock, absolutely - it was agonising, but it was not a surprising and existence shaking event that suddenly redefined life and made it a lot less rosy.

Another day, monkey and I are chilling in front of the telly and a new ad for life insurance runs. A couple known for being careful and safe in everyday life don’t have life insurance and keep putting it off when someone tells them to get it. Monkey looks at me and goes “really? People have to be told to get life insurance?” So, my 14-year-old basically understands a truth that many people still don’t get or don’t want to face (many people in my own extended family only have life insurance for “tax purposes” if they have any at all, and have no medical insurance at all, especially not for something like “cancer”). My child, thanks to these conversations I would like to think, understands that death and illness can happen to anyone at any time. That it is always better to be prepared, financially, mentally, emotionally, for the possibility. That this very possibility makes life, every second of it that you do get, MORE precious, not less.

Why are we so scared of facing our own mortality? I know so many people who have died intestate, or are going to, because they cannot get themselves to make a will… as if one would just suddenly die the moment after it is sealed and signed! As if dread diseases, disability, medical emergencies and death are like those “Roadrunner” cartoon moments. The ones where Wile E Coyote runs off a cliff and keeps running, until he stops and looks down. As if the very act of acknowledging the existence of gravity suddenly brings it into effect and plummets him to the ground far below. As if, had he but NOT looked, he could have gone on running on thin air indefinitely. As if, if we just don’t mention or acknowledge death and disaster in any way, they will never happen, and we will just go on living healthy, endless lives, forever.

All this kind of evasion does, I find, is make things a lot more complex, problematic, and emotionally complicated when the eventualities DO come to pass. When someone dies without a will, when someone is in a coma or facing a treatment choice for some life threatening illness, and there is no plan in place, no one knows their preferences, and no one has ever thought about it, everything goes to hell in a handbasket. Every decision becomes a guessing game, and hence fraught with agonizing, guilt, uncertainty, and pain.

For people like us, foregoing chemo for a 70 year old (when it would only give him 10-12 extra months) in favour of palliative treatment and living every remaining moment to the fullest – was a no brainer. We knew that’s what he wanted, we knew that’s what we wanted, because we had spoken about it, often and at length. When the time came, to issue a DNR at the hospital, to have him taken off the life support, to let him go – that was a no brainer too. Painful, yes (and I am still reeling under the grief and loss more than 2 years down the line) but never a matter of guessing or guilt.  

And that is what I want for my people. A clear and well stated list of what I do and do not want, a clear will to avoid any future mess, and enough insurance cover to handle potential disasters. Makes life much simpler, I find, and leaves more time and mindspace for the actual process of dealing with loss and grief, rather than running around trying to fix messes and being confused by conflicting advice from “well meaning” people.

How do we handle THE CRAZY?

Unresolved Mental Health Issues: Repercussions for the community, and what can we do about it?

Wednesday, late evening, I am on my way back from college. In the middle of an extremely lively conversation with the three colleagues sharing the ride with me, the phone rings. It is an unfamiliar number, but it could be a client, potential client, or something else that is equally important, so I pick up.

An extremely distraught female voice begins to yell at me immediately. No hello, no introductions, not even a name, just a rapid rant along the lines of “you are out to get me! You have been destroying my relationships one by one! What is your problem bitch! Why are you trying to destroy my life! Etc etc”. flabbergasted, to say the least, I demand to know who is speaking, and what the hell they are on ABOUT! She bursts out with “oh! Now you deny knowing me too! You are getting in the way of my relationship with S! and A!” The names are unfamiliar. I cannot offhand remember anyone so close to me – by those names – that I can be accused of breaking up a relationship. I say as much. She counters with “what lies! There are photographs after photographs of you with them!” I am still convinced this is a case of mistaken identity so I ask her who she thinks she is talking to. “this is Jia right” comes the aggressive reply, “don’t pretend, I know everything”. At this point, convinced that this is some crazy person I am talking to, and having no energy to deal with other people’s drama after a long ass day, I disconnect.

About 30 seconds later, I see a post by a woman I vaguely know, in an activist forum WhatsApp group saying “Jia is saying she does not know me”. So, at least the mystery of WHO is solved. The WHY and WHAT remain unresolved, since I barely know this woman to talk to. Other than forum meetings and the odd event that both of us have turned up for, I have no relationship here. As for the two men she was talking about, one – A – is a sort of friend, and one is a peripheral, friend of a friend sort of acquaintance one makes online when worldviews and activism work matches and overlaps and there is some mutual “like” giving on posts that resonate. S is someone I have spoken to for maybe a total of 5 minutes in as many years, at various community and other events.

Unwilling to engage in a public forum, and frankly not seeing the point of engaging with meaningless and baseless drama, I call one of the moderators of the forum instead, a senior activist and sort-of dada to us all. When I explain what just happened, the bizarre call, the weird accusations, he says “oh, so she’s fixated on you now”. Turns out, for the last many years, this woman has pulled this stunt with numerous “female” activists and social warriors, regardless of their gender identity, sexual orientation, or actual level of acquaintance with the men in question. Also, of the two men all these women are supposed to be “breaking her up” with, one is gay, and one extremely uninterested.

S, the object of her primary obsession, is a friend of a friend, and when I tell my friend the story, she tells me how this woman has been systematically stalking S for years, sending her parents to his house to “talk marriage”, appearing at paces he frequents, going to watch him go for his daily run, pestering his mother, and a lot more, all without the slightest sniff of anything resembling any sort of relationship whatsoever.

Now, I am loath to use words like crazy or mad, but the anger and sense of violation I felt with that one call brought only such words to the forefront of the mind. There is also an element of fear. If this woman is so delusional, and makes a habit of targeting and fixating on people, what could she possibly do whether or not I engage with her on this matter. The community so far seems to have practiced a policy of “just ignore it”, which I find problematic. But if I do engage, will that escalate her behavior? And how much danger does that put me and mine in?

People have apparently been witness to or victim of this behavior of hers for years, and no one has said or done anything. This seems iffy to me. Clearly there are some huge unresolved mental health issues at work here. Not only is she deluding herself into imagining one or more relationships where none exist, but is also paranoid enough to believe random people are trying to break those relationships apart and destroy her life. Everything else apart, stalking apart, my discomfort apart, this woman clearly needs help, and she needs it yesterday!

So the question going round and round in my head since Wednesday is what do we – as a community, whether queer or activist, or just the social milieu she occupies – do about this? O e just follow the “not my business” model of thought and ignore the uncomfortable behavior and issues until they escalate to dangerous levels? Or is there some way we can help. Is there some kind of intervention that can be staged? Some action to be takes? Is that possible? Ethical? Feasible? And if so, who will bell the cat? I really think it is time we started having these conversations, and trying to figure it out, as a community.