Ram
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Just want to share and let you all know I can talk about serious stuff too...
Today (Saturday) someone I know commit suicide by leaping off the building she was housed in. This girl -- 20, 21 years old? -- is somehow related to me. My grandma's nephew's daughter so that makes me her my cousin, I guess? -- or grandpa or whatever fuck I just don't care. I know we are related in some weird way because if we aren't then my parents would be forcefully arranging me to get married to her.
It has affected my parents, not considerably though, but enough to make them stop and think. Deaths of other strangers (or members of the families we don't really care or like) would induce an "oh okay" from them but this death had them saying "oh" followed by silence, then "shit".
If you see the entire community through my parents' eyes, you won't see a family tree, you see the whole damn family rainforest.
Through my eyes, it's a fucking bonsai plant.
Which brings me to the purpose of this thread: I have had never deal the tragic suicidal deaths of people I barely know, people that I had said hi to. My life is so sheltered I have yet to attend a proper funeral.
I don't really know this girl. I mean I know this girl. She is pretty, polite, quiet -- she clearly hid her demons well. So why is this messy sad affair bothering me? How can a life just stop? Sure, falling face first into concrete from 20, 30 storeys high would do the trick but she can't just go like that.
I wish I got to know her a little better, at least compliment on her dress or something. And her parents. The look in their eyes. Suicide is a fake solution for just one person, clearly not a solution for the rest. Not a fuck is given to the rest, leaving so many problems with the people who care. Unless it's a mass suicide, then well, many solutions, but that's not the point here.
I just don't understand. I thought I understood death and suicide.
Anyway, she got cremated today. I didn't go because my Dad didn't tell my brother and me about the whole funeral event until it was over (see paragraph on sheltered life). As per custom, Indians have to wear white to funerals and cremations. White is like the color of mourning. I hate wearing white and I am a little glad I didn't have to go because the only white shirt I have has the words "to die for" printed on it.
Today (Saturday) someone I know commit suicide by leaping off the building she was housed in. This girl -- 20, 21 years old? -- is somehow related to me. My grandma's nephew's daughter so that makes me her my cousin, I guess? -- or grandpa or whatever fuck I just don't care. I know we are related in some weird way because if we aren't then my parents would be forcefully arranging me to get married to her.
It has affected my parents, not considerably though, but enough to make them stop and think. Deaths of other strangers (or members of the families we don't really care or like) would induce an "oh okay" from them but this death had them saying "oh" followed by silence, then "shit".
If you see the entire community through my parents' eyes, you won't see a family tree, you see the whole damn family rainforest.
Through my eyes, it's a fucking bonsai plant.
Which brings me to the purpose of this thread: I have had never deal the tragic suicidal deaths of people I barely know, people that I had said hi to. My life is so sheltered I have yet to attend a proper funeral.
I don't really know this girl. I mean I know this girl. She is pretty, polite, quiet -- she clearly hid her demons well. So why is this messy sad affair bothering me? How can a life just stop? Sure, falling face first into concrete from 20, 30 storeys high would do the trick but she can't just go like that.
I wish I got to know her a little better, at least compliment on her dress or something. And her parents. The look in their eyes. Suicide is a fake solution for just one person, clearly not a solution for the rest. Not a fuck is given to the rest, leaving so many problems with the people who care. Unless it's a mass suicide, then well, many solutions, but that's not the point here.
I just don't understand. I thought I understood death and suicide.
Anyway, she got cremated today. I didn't go because my Dad didn't tell my brother and me about the whole funeral event until it was over (see paragraph on sheltered life). As per custom, Indians have to wear white to funerals and cremations. White is like the color of mourning. I hate wearing white and I am a little glad I didn't have to go because the only white shirt I have has the words "to die for" printed on it.



