I guess sometime soon there is this book coming out about my 21 years on earth and what I was all about.
What do you know…it is today. Published and printed, hot off the press.
I know my Mom has worked pretty hard on it these past two years and it pains me that I went and did what I did to cause my parents and my sister so much grief. That was never the intention. My love was unqualified and I was a gentle guy, not given to drama or theatrics. In fact, if any of my friends were to categorise me they would say, oh, Mohit, nice chap, private, quiet, well behave and smart.
So then, if I was all these things why did I shuffle off the mortal coil like Shakespeare said. What prompted me to be so sensational as to prematurely end my life.
Look at it this way. In retrospect as I see my family devastated and trying to wring some sense out of the tragedy I can safely say I had nothing to do with it. Really, that Saturday morning I was a bystander to my own end. I had no role in it. It was as if an invisible hand was moving me towards that sliding door and the balcony. The mess in my mind and the way we young students are often cajoled and coerced into these pharmaceutical regimes to give us the energy to get through the mountain of studies is an issue few people wish to grasp because it is a stinging nettle and it is better to pretend it will go away if we do not recognize it.
For that I have to give my mother huge credit. Like a terrier with a bone she does not let go. From that day when she lost me and a part of herself forever she has gone on this unremitting crusade to warn other people and tell them to check out their young kids especially in pressure cooker courses like medicines.
She has researched the pharma conspiracy with single-minded dedication and tried to bridge the yawning gap in credibility that exists between the ease with which one can legally access these toxic mind changing drugs and the ability of parents to suss it out when they meet their radically reworked children on vacation or visit.
To that extent Sheetal Devki Mulani, my mother, has used my loss to great advantage in that if through this book which she camouflages as a tribute to her son she also sends out a clear message to thousands of parents bewildered by the rules of this brutal attack on their offspring under the garb of concern. If she can wake one parent and have that parent stop the rot and say, wait a minute what are you feeding my semi adult children and why are we not party to this on campus conspiracy, yes we notice the changed conduct and yes, we want to know why, her work will have been successful.
Read the book. It smacks of an honesty and a mother’s love, a son who never intended to hurt her or his dad or his sister and a truth that has to be faced. Too many young children on too many campuses are being drugged into submission and no one wants to talk about it.
I haven’t yet finished this subject. For now, mother dearest bless you for taking up the cause. I know I didn’t go in vain.