The Freudian Slip

So the book is being launched in dubai and then later in major Indian cities. Mom has called it Saturday the sun went down. Hmmmm, it  has a certain rhythm to it and it does refer to the day in the week I decided to take that horrendous step.


There you are you have the Freudian slip in all its glory. In all honesty I did not decide was decided for me. Herein lies the rub. It so easily slides off the tongue…I  decided!!! No way. Think about it. I was 21, well on my way to getting a coveted degree in the medical line, enjoying warm and affectionate family ties, wanting for nothing really. And I loved life. Books, music, food, wars over the the issues of our times, racism, social injustice, poverty, hunger, conditions that demanded a war and I was a frontline warrior.


My whole argument has been that the decision is taken out of our hands. That’s the whole thrust of my stance and the working title of the book “Murder by Medicine” was a lot more on the target. I think Mom decided against it because it was too provocative, and could not only expose her to legal wrangles, but also scare readers away. From tragedy it would move into the realm of accusation and I imagine she didn’t want that. Also, the element of protectionism is also there. My lovely sis Vidhi, is also doing meds and she doesn’t need the hassle.


Guess no one can do anything to me now that I am not there so what the hell, time to bite the bullet. Tell it like I see it. Those damn pills supposed to calm the stress, reduce the pressure, they might do that in capsule (ha,ha that is a cruel play on the word) but with that questionable agony comes the agony. You lose control like there was this giant had at your back, propelling you forward over the cliff and like with the siren’s call you just go with I,t even as part of you says, stop, this is not done.


Thousands of young people deluded into believing that they are not adequately armed to complete a strenuous course without the crutch of drugs. Yes, let me say it. These are not placebos or comforters, these are legalized narcotics that play havoc with your mind.


And because as you become more dependent and the confusion that broils within and creates this mental fugue turns supreme you learn the tricks of how to cover your tracks. When there are still clear patches in the head and you can think straight and the con game being played on you is beguiling you into a sense of mesmerizing captivity you think you have found the miracle. So you quickly pick up, how to hide the dependence. With isolation, pretence, deceit, anger, create a wall between you and loved ones, so they notice the difference but dare not ask.


At the same time you also learn very quickly how to conceal the dosage. The pills in the inside pocket of the duffel bag, in a pair of shoes, a secret cavity, the back of the drawer, the cliched sock.


And then you hire two good lieutenants called Exasperation and Impatience to keep the curious away. But more about that later.

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