A gesture of appreciation.

So, if you’ve been following the blog for some time now, you’ll know that this month the number of posts has been considerably low.

There are two reasons for that. This month started out really well and I’ve honestly never been happier. The Wall was doing good and my drinking was under control and everything seemed fine. I did have a couple of bad nights here and there but then again I wasn’t really alone at night so I could manage.

I’ve also been having this recurrent dream in which someone I care about dies which kind of convinced me something bad was going to happen and soon.

Oh and for the record I entered The Wall in this startup competition. We’ll see how that works out.

Now something did happen. And I feel like it’s changed me. I can in no way share what it is because honestly it’s not just my story but I’ll ask every reader to think about this.

“There is a rope. Two massive egos are pulling the rope from both ends. A tiny pin is very delicately balanced in the middle.”

Secondly, I have run out of stories. So in order to keep this site up and running we need contributions. I have just one now. It’s this beautiful poem that was sent in. After that, we have nothing.

I’ve realized that most of the contributions are about dealing with pain, grief and loss. I get that they are really dark but that’s fine. I understand. The fact that someone actually wanted to open up and share such an important part of themselves with us makes me very happy. But, memories work too. Happiness is an emotion too. To oversimplify The Wall has slowly become about humans, us and emotions.

So if anyone wishes to contribute please do email us at- thewallandus@gmail.com. Because right now I have no other posts to post.

Why the Title though?

Because since we started, we’ve received such wonderful comments. People who’ve believed in us. People who’ve given such wonderful insights. Every little conversation has made me so so happy.

From now on, we’ll be posting some of these. The ones that touched us so much. Please do visit them. And check them out. 🙂

Take care and have a great day.

  1. On Metamorphosis– “This is one of the most inspiring things I’ve read in a while. I’m all too familiar with the vicious cycle of eating-namecalling-depression-binging. And this seriously makes me want to finally get up of my arse and take charge of my life. Thank you, stay motivated.” by timetraveller_00.
  2. On I am so proud of you Maa– “I also lost my mother at 23 yrs old. I felt it was unfair that she was taken away from me. I still feel that way but she is always with me. It was a life changing event in 1968 that I will never forget.” by Eugenia.
  3. On Rum and Coke

“Dear Aitijya,

Thank you for sharing your story .

No you are not an alcoholic. I have always believed excess drinking is like an illness which the person ( one who is addicted to alcohol) has no control over .

The fact that you write about it and that you know exactly how much is good or bad tells me you are doing fine.

You are so young and have whole life ahead of you. This blog is such a great idea. I am sure when the readership increases this will help so many people.

You clearly are a kind hearted beautiful person. and once again, NO you are not an alcoholic.

The least I can do is give you one of my biggest smiles. :-)  Hope it brings a smile to your face too.” by Pia from Truly Happy.

Advertisements

Memoirs of A Love Struck Kid.

Who’ll take care of my family- I need to be stronger for the things that are about to happen and will happen. Tiny irrelevant things like a breakup are not worth crying over.

Read.

Listen.

Understand. And Love.

We’re here. And we care.

*****

I found out I was adopted when I was around 14 years of age. It was one of those incidents that you stumble upon purely by chance. I was in our living room when I happened to stumble upon these papers. They declared that the people I’d come to love and know as my parents weren’t actually my parents.

If you ask me how I felt that day I would tell you I didn’t know actually. Part of me did not believe it. Part of me was lost. I mean why did my parents give me up? Where did I belong? Who were my real parents? I just did not know how to feel back then. I mean I was only a kid.

*****

Cooking is an art. I can give you a recipe, tell you exactly how I made it, with all the right ingredients but I can tell you right now, you will not be able to replicate it.

It’s about the texture, the pattern, the way I make it. All these things make the dish something that no matter how hard you try, impossible to replicate. There will always be a difference.

*****

Someday I want to be a chef. To pay for my father’s expenses we’ve had to rely on my cousins and other family members. Someday, soon, I want to start earning so that my family does not need to worry about anything anymore.

*****

My adoptive father has cancer. Terminal. I can tell you this now, give it to you in writing that he would die in another 2 years. How do I cry for small irrelevant things? Like a tiny break up. Don’t get me wrong. I did cry. But I felt guilty.

If I cry now, after the breakup, bawl my eyes out, what happens in two years. My parents, they’ve taken me in. Think about it. If I cry now about such irrelevant things, two years later when something happens to my father, what then?

Who’ll take care of my mother when she needs someone? Who’ll take care of my family? I need to be stronger for the things that are about to happen and will happen. Tiny irrelevant things like a breakup are not worth crying over.

*****

-Anonymous

For any post contributions email us at thewallandus@gmail.com.

I am so proud of you Maa.

eveningskies

Read.

Listen.

Understand. And Love.

We’re here. And we care.

*****

“It’s a curious thing, the death of a loved one. The unfathomable truth that one has to deal with every moment of their life.

We all have to end up under a white sheet some day. Then again, why is it so difficult to accept mortality?

Do we fear death? Or do we fear the vacuum that gets created by death?

I lost my mother about 6 months back. As a child it was probably the most difficult thing I have had to face until now and undoubtedly the most difficult truth I’ll have to deal with for the rest of my life.

Every day, each moment I miss her. I miss being around her. I miss our mindless conversations and her smug appreciation. I MISS her existence. Why can’t life have a rewind button? Why can’t life be the way we want it to be? Why does life have to be brutal, unfair and mean?

Why can’t parents be immortal?

In a world where every second person is a conniving ass, a hypocrite and a liar, why can’t parents be immortalized?
I ask myself, “Why did this happen to me?”

I haven’t intentionally hurt anyone ever. I’ve never lied in a manner that could cause someone else pain. Then why did it have to be me?

There were days I couldn’t find an answer until one day I asked my cousin. She had lost her father when she was just 11. She told me, “That’s life for you. Raw and Harsh. There are some questions you will never find an answer to. And you should stop looking for them since they do not exist. They will just bring you pain and nothing else.”

I know I don’t have her with me. But I feel her strength within me. I feel HER within me. After all I am a part of her, a part she nurtured with her love and care.

My father always tells me a very valid point.
“Learn to count your blessings because there are so many people who don’t even have half of what you do. Don’t think life is unfair to just you, remember that life happened to you as well. Just like it happens to everyone else. In some form, or the other.”

While I ponder over these words, I realize the truth underlying them.

I was lucky to have her for 23 years of my life. I was lucky to have her shaping my formative years. I was lucky to have known an amazing person like her. And, I AM lucky to have been borne by a woman like her.

My mother was a very strong lady. I am a part of her. So can I be any less strong? I guess not! That’s what I tell myself these days.

Maa is with me. And she will remain with me as long as I am alive. Maybe not physically, but spiritually.

I feel her. For we are one.

One soul.

One heart.

Maa, I miss you. Be happy wherever you are. I don’t know if you were proud of me but I will always be proud of you.

Be mine.

Now.

Forever.”

*****

-Sohini Dasgupta

For any post contributions email us at thewallandus@gmail.com.

The Wall and Us.

DP1

So we’ve been waiting to reach 50 followers before we posted this piece and we just did. We thank you for the appreciation. We hope you believe in us. Even if you don’t we hope some day you do.

Right now there are three people working with The Wall.

Rishabh Prasad.

Aishwarya Sarkar.

And me, Aitijya.

Today’s post would be just about The Wall. I’ve been asked too many times what it is all about. I am not good at explaining things. So I am going to write this down.

*****

“Have you ever felt like you would feel much better if you knew there was someone out there in this world who could understand you?

Maybe you are going through something which is almost inconsequential to someone else. But it matters to you. It’s real. It is happening to you.

Maybe you’ve gone through something, which changed your entire life. It changed your perspective on life. It changed the way you behave.

Maybe when you were young, every night your mother would tuck you in to sleep. Sing a song maybe. Tell you a bed time story.

Maybe you felt an extreme surge of emotion somewhere sometime.

Maybe you tried to explain all of it. Maybe you tried to tell someone about it. Maybe you felt helpless that they could not grasp it. Could not understand it.

You see no one can know how you feel, unless they spend a day in your shoes.

That is what The Wall is all about. It’s to let the world know, that no one is actually alone.

If you’re an alcoholic, there is someone out there who has gone through the same.

If you just lost your mother, someone else went through the same.

If you feel lost and hopeless, someone else feels the same way.

Think about it. We are 7 billion people. And 14 billion stories. Each and every story matters. Each and every life matters.

Why The Wall?

Because we build walls all around us. The world and society has shaped us in such a way that almost always what we see is not how things actually are. All of us live behind these metaphorical walls. I’ve known so many people who are so amazing and beautiful in their own peculiar way that it still astounds me. But, when you look at them, you’ll just not get it. Talk to them, spend time with them, then maybe. This blog is about breaking walls. Once you give away a piece of yourself you’ll see there is someone on the other side. Help them and let them know that they’re not alone.

You see, NO ONE DESERVES TO BE ALONE.

When I was at my worst, if someone came up to me and told me that they’ve gone through the same, it would have made me feel much better. I could have connected to them and their lives.

This is to make sure that we bridge this gap. Break all these walls, free ourselves of the ghosts that haunt us. Maybe a happy memory too.

We have hefty ideas for this blog. This is a community. This is a place where there would be no judgement. This is a place where you could or couldn’t find peace.

This is a place where you are not alone.

Thank you. And have a great day.

*****

-Aitijya Sarkar

PS- We will begin posting stories again. For any post contributions email us at-thewallandus@gmail.com.

 

 

Death, loss and longing.

life is a

An amazing person.

Sensitive, caring and a brilliant heart. An even better singer. He is working with us now. Read and understand him and his story. And know us better.

As always,

Read.

Listen.

Understand. And Love.

We’re here. And we care.

*****

“The reason I had a normal childhood was because of my mother and my grandparents.

My father on the other hand has always been more of an inspirational figure. The values that he has taught me, has helped me improve as a person. I had to spend my childhood away from my parents due to certain unavoidable and personal reasons.

My birth was the reason my mother wasn’t able to complete her education. She has sacrificed a lot for me. And I am very lucky to have her in my life.

Staying away from them was actually a blessing in disguise. It developed me as a person, who knew how to adapt, no matter how difficult and desperate the circumstances were.

I was raised up and taken care of by my grandparents. My grandmother has always been like a mother to me. She has always been my support system. I miss my childhood. Circumstances were much better and simple then. Things didn’t affect me as much as it is affecting me right now. Growing up is indeed a part of life, but losing yourself in the process is what chokes me up.

*****

You never know, what’s waiting for you the very next moment.

Uncertainties suffocate me.

Growing up is an art and not everyone can master it, mould it and learn from it. The ones who don’t get used to it are left with too many unanswered questions about life.

Attributing meaning to our lives, is an endless journey. I consider myself as a below average guy who believes in spreading happiness. Happiness is subjective. Even a minute gesture could mean the world to someone.

I aspire towards my dream but somewhere I get stuck in confusion. It’s just that the phase of growing up has been tough and it gets tougher with each passing day. I have lost a lot of people who meant the world to me. It’s been rough.

*****

Nothing is permanent.

Some day or the other, everything will cease to exist and come to a standstill. I can never forget the day I lost my grandfather. It was the day before my University final exams. He had always been a pillar of strength for me.

Nurturing my love for music and always protecting me. He was always there. I wish he was still alive today. I could do nothing for him when he was alive. I feel his absence almost every day. I loved him, and I still do.

A friend of mine killed herself a month before my class 12 board exams. I look back now, and remember how in a short span of time she had become like family. I could share my soul with her and she would just listen. No judgement. I still remember her dead body lying on the floor’s carpet. I remember her mother resting her head on my shoulder. It gives me goose bumps and heartaches even today. I couldn’t save her.

*****

Is this what you get in return when you love people so much?

Is this a part of growing up?

We lose people we love the most.

Recently, I got to know that my father suffers from Bipolar Disorder. My mother kept me away from him to give me a better life. Though my father is doing better now, he is on lithium tablets. They are known to cut down one’s life expectancy.

Even my mother has health issues. What if, one wretched day, I lose them? Where would I go? Where would my journey end?

These gut-wrenching questions and the silent crying in the middle of the night, suffocate my mind.

All I want is to see myself and the people who care about me happy. It includes my parents, my grandparents and the handful of those to whom my existence matters.

As my beloved friend says, nobody deserves to be alone.”

*****

-Rishabh Prasad

PS- For any post contributions email us at thewallandus@gmail.com.