(This is a triggering post so all those who don’t want to feel depressed/or are suicidal shouldn’t go through this)
Feeling so depressed because of Sushant Singh Rajput’s death.
Read about his life story from here and there, searched and watched his videos and saw him give lectures to various Universities. It just breaks my heart to see someone so intelligent, who had bought himself a place on the frikkin MOON, give up on life like that.
Or perhaps he didn’t, perhaps it was what other people around him contributed to, more than he did.
But blame games don’t really work when someone’s already gone, so this post is not to rant about whether he got himself intoxicated or drugged or whatever else before he gave up on life, this is to talk about the man who came from a middle class family, like mine, struggling to make it big in the world, like me, an introvert (also like me) and someone who was unable to stick to one thing due to the overwhelming feeling of (I can do anything I want), also, like me.
I feel like when your parents have dreams for you, and hope for you and have expectations from you, it becomes too overwhelming for some kids who are not used to the whole concept of ‘living for someone else.’ I guess intellectuals usually have a problem with this as well, as they think for themselves. They don’t follow orders, and they don’t like being told what to do.
I have a similar feeling, which is why I never really became a doctor like my father intended for me. Similarly, Sushant was unable to complete his studies (he dropped out in the third year of Engineering) and he was unable to complete his studies, though his love for physics and astronomy never died (you can still see from his Instagram posts how he missed being intelligent (in a world majorly full of superficiality and materialism) and around the kind of people who actually appreciated his love for the Universe).
I have a strange feeling that whenever he was at the brink of something big, he would leave it for another more exciting project. I guess this way, you can easily say he wasn’t really able to finish anything properly and completely, yet he was exceptionally good at everything he did.
I feel the same way, most of the times.
I haven’t really finished anything in my life except for my degree in Journalism with which I received a lot of help from my husband. If he hadn’t made the final thesis documentary for me, I would have been unable to complete my studies.
I sit with a tub of ice cream trying to make sense out of his depression, because it feels so much like mine. The way he was so insecure whilst he talked, but could talk for hours and hours around the right people (only if) they understood him.
I wish they did, but he didn’t realize (until it was too late) that he was in the wrong field. Again, this is an assumption I make completely based on my own thoughts, this has nothing to do with him and what he thought.
You can’t make superficiality realize that philosophy is for the deeply wounded, or the thinkers, and that in any other part of the industry it is just going to become a victim of abuse, which he usually was, in talk shows around his country. I have seen a few magazine columns also making fun of his Twitter musings, something which he deeply loved and only now people are coming around to appreciating.
I think in his last few months, he strongly felt extremely alone, and that all he had done amounted to nothing because he had it all: money, fame, girls, intoxicants, a good life, a beach house, lots of money per movie, the way people would recognize him on the streets, everything.
I think he then realized that this wasn’t worth it, because his mother wasn’t there to appreciate all of his success, so who exactly was he doing all this for? I also feel, he wasn’t that close to his father, and that fathers (usually in our part of the world) don’t really appreciate their sons, as he once mentioned that his dad would watch all his movies and still say ,”but if you became an engineer it would have been nice.” So there you go; something that has kept me up in the middle of most nights, the APPROVAL from our own parents. And since his mother wasn’t there to console him deeply during those times, he would often miss her a lot.
And as someone coming from a house of only sisters, and being the one pampered brother who had not set foot outside in the world, being over protected, I can very much feel his pain when he was given EVERYTHING. It became dangerous for him, and he didn’t know what to do with it.
Just three years older than me yet he had achieved so much more in his life than I possibly could ever have in all my entire life. Still he wasn’t happy with anything. WHY? That is the big question. Someone who wants to complete a bucket list and help people around them would give up like this. Why? For the stupid people who didn’t let him feel accepted?
I still feel that he could’ve survived had he been an engineer or even moved onto the engineering field from acting. But then again, it is only an assumption I make, based on my experiences and my introvert-nature. Maybe he thought differently, who knows.
I wish he had contemplated a little before giving up this easily. He used to be such a deep thinker, his posts online suggest that. The books on his shelves suggest that. His dream house with all his vintage collectibles suggests that. The way he spoke in decoding suggested that. The way he wore meaningful shirts spoke about how misplaced he felt in the industry, and how hard he had to try to be liked suggested that (he wore a Schrodinger’s smiley in his last interview, in which he didn’t look so good either).
Rest in peace, poor soul. I know not what you were going through but I do know that you will forever remain in my heart as a part of me.
I wish someone had reached out to him sooner. I wish he had just been in a coma or collapsed or out of breath, and that they could have saved him. Then again, that thought isn’t easy to live with as well, and I can only imagine how hard it must be for someone to not be able to talk about their feelings because they’re superstars, and to be forced to live even though all they wish for is dying.
I wish this world would have been less cruel to souls like his, and I feel this everyday as I see the bloodshed around me, of kids and women in Yemen, of families in Rohingya, or the misplaced immigrants still in search of their families. What is life, when you have no place to go to, no place where you belong? What of the people who commit suicide by thousands daily, or the women who get raped or the ones who get beheaded after getting raped? I have read all of these stories, and nothing makes sense anymore.
The very humans who burn dogs and beat them to death are the ones torturing human beings, so I can’t really expect anything from mankind anymore. People are inherently selfish, and have now also become inhumane and insensitive because of the world around them. Who is to blame? Nobody knows.
For now, all I can say is, rest in peace to all those who found no support in this world, whether it was from family or friends. To them I say, I wish you could have held on a little longer, or trusted in the world around you, that maybe someday would come when someone would actually LISTEN and hear what you have to say, and maybe, just maybe, someone could save someone’s life.
Also, I am here for all those who are going through depression (I can’t promise to help you get out of it, but I can be with you through the process so you don’t feel alone) as I look around in my social media and find so many people who are depressed and suffer alone, because they don’t have anyone who wants to listen to their problems. We have too many issues of our own, and people have become selfish ever since technology took over our lives. That is the depressing truth, but I wish things could’ve been different.
