Why Letting Go is the Hardest Thing to Do

The act of giving up on something that we consider our own is the hardest thing ever

Having read countlessself- help books that espouse the virtue of letting go and also having written two much-admired inspirationalbooks that speak about the same, I was under the mistaken impression that I would never have any trouble with letting go. The last two months of 2013 taught me that none of us are impervious to separation pangs and the act of giving up on something that we consider our own.

My daughter graduated from the prestigious Le Cordon Bleu culinary school in London in early November 2013, and while the students themselves celebrated the event, I and a gathering of teary-eyed parents there silently tried to come to terms with the fact that the fledglings we had nurtured were ready to fly the coop. When she announced at the end of the event that she was going out to celebrate with her friends, it was the hardest thing for me not protest. “I want to be with you to savour the moment and file it away in my heart, my child,” I wanted to tell her.  Somehow I managed to keep the words from spilling out.

Last month was also when my father informed my mother that they would have to move out of the modest central Mumbai apartment that they had lived in for a little over 25 years. It was an apartment that he was entitled to while he worked as a consultant for an organisation and at 82, he was now ready to give up his responsibilities, he said.

None of us expected the emotional tsunami that ravaged my mother and the family from the moment our father made his announcement. At first, she went silent and moped around the house listlessly. Then she went on a cleaning spree, attacking her three cupboards, musty with the things that she kept treasured in them – sepia-tinted pictures of her parents and family, that of her children’s weddings, birthday cards from various grandchildren, unconditional love pouring out of every childish scrawl, among other things. For days amma sat on the bedroom floor surrounded by hundreds of those photographs, running her hands over the familiar faces of her much-loved family, many of them long gone, the rest now scattered in different parts of the world. Sometimes tears streamed down her face from under her perennially foggy glasses, sometimes she laughed at some precious memory and then she picked up the phone to call me or one of her other children to share that memory. It was often in the middle of the day that she called and I would be at my desk rushing to meet a deadline, but I would take a deep breath and slow down so that I could share her brief happiness from that memory. It was usually something heartbreakingly simple - a picture of my then 3-year-old daughter sitting in an aluminium bucket, having the time of her life splashing in the warm water, as amma prepared to give her a bath. Or, the toothless grin of her infant grandson as she sunned him in her backyard. “Please laminate these pictures for me, she would say for the hundredth time this year. I am worried they will fade and go away,” she said. Just like they had grown up and gone away in real life, all her children and her grandchildren, to chase their own rainbow and find their place in the sun. Her own life has been reduced to merely waiting for one of them to arrive at her home, even if it is for just one day. Sometimes the phone in the house never rang the entire day but she would sit beside it, nevertheless, hoping that it would blaze to life and bring a beloved voice into her drawing room.

Then, amma’s mood changed again and this time it was directed at my father. She raged at him and accused him of various things imagined and real. She wept that he had never got her a roof over her head because he was too busy giving away his modest resources to various causes. Acchan (our father) listened patiently, never retaliating or hitting back but we saw him retreat even further, into the pages of his beloved books.

If the teenager me had admired Scarlett O-Hara’s un-ladylike tantrums and her stubborn refusal to accept her situation without a fight, the middle-aged me was alternately angry and exasperated at amma’s  exhibition of the same traits. We tried to reason with her, I yelled at her a couple of times (am deeply ashamed of that just now) and cried with her when she broke down.

Amma had many reasons why she did not want to leave her beloved home: she had raised 4 grandchildren there, she had shared that house with at least two of her spinster great aunts and her widowed mother and nursed them devotedly till they breathed their last. The ancient wooden beds, now creaking with age, still hold the memories of those beloved people and she was scared her last connection with them would be over when she left that house, she said one day. Even my hardened, very cynical heart wept when she verbalised those feelings.

Letting go is easier said than done. A few years ago I riled, raved and cursed when my marriage to my college sweetheart broke down. I am lucky I found a wonderful man who I married and lead a charmed life with today, but letting go of that other relationship was the hardest part of the last few years. Our memories of our younger days are a huge part of who we are and even though it scares me that she is so attached to the house, I completely understand why amma reacted the way she did.

Last month, I sold the apartment that I had bought with my ex when we were young and in love and it was a hard thing to do. Everything in that house had a memory. I remember walking into that apartment, the sunlight pouring in from its floor to ceiling windows and telling my husband that this was the house I wanted us to live in. I fell in love with the spiral staircase that led to two tiny bedrooms and a cosy family room on the upper level. Our daughter grew up there and when she became a teenager, she had great times with her friends in her room. Each cushion, each piece of furniture, each coffee mug had been painstakingly collected from our scarce resources and to give them away to rank strangers, was the toughest thing to do in a long time. I did it anyways and when I walked away from that house, pulling the door shut after me that last time, I thought I was shutting the door on that part of my life forever and opening the door to a new set of possibilities.

Amma moved out of her house last week, kicking and biting but a guardian angel somewhere seems to be looking after her well. The two-bedroom apartment that we rented for her has already transformed itself into a loved home, with picture frames of her family now perched on her bed-side tables. Her beloved Gods have gone up on various walls and the plants that she nurtured in her backyard in the old house now vie for space in the balcony.  

Her only regret now is that she could not think of any way she could bring with her the lemon tree that she raised in that same backyard. The one which gave her a new lease on life some time ago when she rediscovered her self-esteem by making and selling divine nimbu paani to a line-up of very admiring clients.

I told you, letting go is the hardest thing ever.

Will someone please tell me how I can stop calling up my daughter in the other end of the world, at all times of the day and night, to ask her if she is eating well and sleeping enough? I need to let go. Desperately!BY

Sudha Menon

Image courtesy: © Thinkstockphotos/ Getty Images

        

Injuries to rape survivors chilling

NEW DELHI: A year after Nirbhaya's gang-rape case, has the medical response to such cases got any better? As TOI investigated this, we came across shocking revelations on a number of rape cases reported at one single hospital in the last two years.

Safdarjung Hospital, where Nirbhaya was admitted, treated 310 rape survivors in two years, from December 2011 to December 2013. Of this, 24 were minors less than 10 years. There were at least 169 patients of the age group of 11-20 years and 117 rape survivors who were aged 20 and above.

According to Dr B D Athani, the medical superintendent of Safdarjung, at least three patients suffered from severe physical injury similar to Nirbhaya. "Calling them rape victims is an oversimplification of their suffering. We found in most cases, there was a combination of physical and sexual assault. The victims had to be referred to a team of specialists," Dr Athani said.

The hospital claims to have put in place dedicated staff for attending to such emergencies. "The rape victims are received in the Gynaecology Receiving Room (GRR). After initial investigation and tests, they are referred to the departments There were at least 169 patients of the age group of 11-20 years for further treatment.Psychiatric counselling of the victim and family members is stressed upon," said the medical superintendent of Safdarjung hospital.

As per a Delhi HC order issued in April 2009, government hospitals need to have special rooms for victims to be examined and sexual assault evidence collection kit. Dr M C Misra, director of AIIMS said they have put in place all the infrastructure for treatment and collection of evidence. Activists claim that the facilities are not available across hospitals and in some cases the doctors are unaware of the protocol.

"There is lack of clarity on issues such as whether or not to use finger test for assessment of injuries, use of force if any, noting any discharge and gathering of sample among others," said Raj Mangal Prasad, ,director of NGO Pratidhi.

Dr Sudhir Gupta, head of the forensic sciences department at AIIMS, added, "There is an urgent need to develop a national or protocol on collection of forensic evidence in such cases. Inaccurate documentation, sampling and labelling can lead to loss of crucial evidence." TOI

Woman sentenced to 5 months jail

By: Ryan Lee Hall

(Scroll down for video) A teacher, was jailed after she was seen in bed with her student.

Zeng Cing-Jyu, 39, of Taiwan, was sentenced to 5 months in prison while her student was sentenced to 3 months in prison for the affair.Cing-Jyu was caught by her husband having sex with a student, who is 17 years younger than her.

The student, Chen Yu-siang, who is 22, was found in bed naked.Zeng Cing-Jyu has been married to her husband for 13 years, and they have a son and a daughter together.

Three years ago, Cing-Jyu was caught flirting with a colleague, but her husband decided to forgive her.However, Zeng did not learn from her mistakes and started a romantic relationship with her student.

One day, when her husband came home early, he heard sexual sounds coming from the third floor of the house. He grabbed the camera and busted into the room, where he found his wife in bed with the student.

With the evidence in hand, the husband went to the police.

In Taiwan, adultery is a crime. The woman told the court that she and her student were just eating rice pudding and watching movies.

The judge did not believe her and sentenced her to 5 months in prison.

The student was also jailed for having an affair with a married woman.

Cing-Jyu was fired from the college where she worked and met the student.

Yu-siang was allowed to continue going and graduate from the college.http://www.yourjewishnews.com/2013/12/w8425.html

Mumbai doctor ends life by injecting herself

MUMBAI: A 26-year-old doctor from Jaslok Hospital committed suicide by injecting a lethal dose of drugs early on Friday. Dr Divya Machiraju from Hyderabad was found unresponsive in her hostel room on the hospital premises by a friend.

Machiraju was working as a registrar with the Pedder Road hospital's anaesthesia department since the last three months after

her post-graduation. "She overdosed on an anaesthesia drug by intravenously taking it in her quarters on the hospital campus. The incident took place between 11pm on Thursday and 6am on Friday," said R Prabhu, senior inspector, Gamdevi police station. "Her friend who came to wake her up in the morning and found her. No suicide note was found."

Hospital authorities are baffled as to how Machiraju got access to anaesthesia drugs. "We maintain a strict vigil when it comes to drugs that can be misused," said Dr Tarang Gianchandani, CEO, Jaslok Hospital. She said that Machiraju was a bright student and excelled in her professional life.

The hospital did not wish to comment on what could have driven her to take the extreme step. Specialists in the field of anesthesia say that those studying the subject have an unwritten advantage both in terms of access and knowledge about the drugs.

A senior anaesthetist said, "These doctors can easily procure such drugs by writing self-prescriptions. They also have their registration numbers to show. It is becoming kind of an occupational hazard."

The hospital added that rigor mortis (stiffening of muscles) had set in by the time the body was discovered suggesting that she was dead for at least couple of hours. "The body was sent for post-mortem on Friday night. We have registered a case of accidental death. Her parents are expected to reach Mumbai by Saturday morning," Prabhu said. tnnThe police are in the process of recording statements of her colleagues to ascertain the reasons behind the incident as well as to find out the source where she acquired the drug from. TOI