TeenSages

We see, we judge, but do we ever know what actually happens behind the scene. Mental health is an important aspect of a healthy person; yet it is hidden, not talked about.  To bring light to this topic, I sat down with two people.  One of which is going through depression and self harm while the other has been through it (The speakers will be connoted in italics and bold respectively. One is fourteen and the other fifteen.) I asked them various questions relating to this taboo and how they coped with it. Let’s take a look at their take on this topic and how it is being dealt with.   Q. This society, it’s full of stigma, people do not want to talk about mental health and it’s considered shameful.  In a society like this, how is to cope through the same? “It’s hard. It’s definitely hard, to be constantly hiding such a big part of yourself every time you converse, every time you meet someone. I have to shield myself and hide, cower inside mysel...

Is this a purple flower? No, it is a cluster of seven leaves of the Saptaparni tree. We have a large picture window at home. We are on third floor and the bough of the tree dominates our view. And it is green nowadays because of the monsoon. So, why have I coloured my leaves purple? “Things are not exactly the way they seem”, is what Raie aunty always says. “All leaves and the grass are not green, wood is not brown, the sky is not blue.” She told me. “Each object has all colours. It is just that one dominates them all. She talks about “seeing”. We are often together because I started school with her son and she is now a good friend of my mother’s and drops in home often. I have started taking art classes with her on the weekends.  There are always streaks of red and orange on a green leaf, or blue and purple patches on an earthen pot, when she is with me, but whenever I sit down to draw without her, no matter how much I squint or try to move my head I cannot...

Durga Puja is my favourite festival. I, being half a Bengali, love the atmosphere and the crowd. It feels so surreal being in the midst of all those dressed up people. I am always amazed at how many people manage to make it there because I can only describe that amount of people as an ocean of humanity. They linger about till past midnight but many true Bengalis stay on there through the night. I live in Chitaranjan Park, the hub of all action at that time. Bengalis from all over the world gather on the first day and on the visarjan when Durga ma goes back into the Ganga. They take clay and straw from the banks of Ganga and build giant durga mathas. When they do the visarjan, all the clay and straw would have returned back to where it came from. One of the best parts of the Durga Puja are the pandals. Every year they create a better pandal than the previous. Last year my favourite pandal was a straw hut based design; only a colossal version of it. It was as big...

So I’m in grade 9 now, and well yes! I’m surrounded by cute, caring high school couples and besties, and partners in crime, and chai buddies and - oh you get the point, right? This all looks jolly and stuff, but really, what’s beneath it all?  We only like to befriend people who’re funny, nice, cute, sweet and, though we hate to admit this, somewhat pretty and good looking. Have we not heard these phrases before? ‘Well, at least your hair looks good’ ‘Lol, puberty’s failed him- look at all those pimples’ ‘She cut her flesh, that weirdo- such an attention seeker!’ ‘You’re lucky to be anorexic’ ‘Well, I’ve got a pretty pair of jeans but they won’t fit you’ ‘You’re not - you shouldn’t lose weight’ They may sound like a joke to others and the speaker itself, but it leaves a deep impact on the listener. They either choose to ignore it and move on to see the ‘bright side’ of people’s remarks, or they just get stuck to these comments and think about it day and night, or they are to...