Holding On

This summer, I had been working at a public hospital (Lady Hardinge) in Delhi as part of my Masters (in Psychology) program. It is what has kept me busy and completely exhausted for the past month-which is my excuse for not having written anything for the blog. Needless to say, it was a mentally taxing experience which has left me with a feeling bittersweet.

My first interaction was with this little boy, 4 years of age, diagnosed with “mental retardation” so severe that he barely could walk, talk or even sit up without support. The hospital had become a home for him and his mother, even though it is common knowledge that with mental retardation so severe and at an early age, the prognosis is miserable.

My interactions were limited to his mother, and initially I felt this intense sympathy for her. On hearing her story, I found that this woman had left her alcoholic husband who used to beat her; which, I feel is a task that is easier said than done. This child was her only child and she was financially dependent on her parents, all of whom belonged to the LSES. It doesn’t make so much sense without giving the context, but let’s just say that she couldn’t even afford to buy fruits for her child.

As I spent time with her, the feeling of sympathy was replaced by respect. I was proud of her for being the epitome of resilience, even though her own experience was neither of sympathy nor pride. I realized that sympathy was only what I felt for myself. I knew within seconds of talking to her that sticking through such a situation was something that was quite impossible for me to do.

Why I chose to write about this in my blog, which usually is a refuge from the stressful academic work that we do, is because even though I might never completely relate to this kind of situation this experience has made me realize how much love there is in the world. Giving up on something that you love, be it work, your love or anything under the sun, should be the last option. Actually, maybe it shouldn’t be an option at all. Even though the very thought of not being able to give up may sound suffocating, I feel that  trying and going after the person/thing you love leaves you feeling proud for at least trying. 

I would love to feel as proud of myself as I did for her.