Suzanne: A desolate spectre

Honey glazed almonds, caramel popcorn and a ukulele have one thing in common -- they are aesthetically wholesome. Looking back at the years she had spent in sheer loneliness, this was an out of body experience. With the first vibration induced by the nylon-string ukulele, she could feel her soul reverbing. At that point, all that mattered was what she had gained in her life. Loss was a thing that was known but never felt, for she had suppressed feeling altogether. She had repressed her mum, dad and even herself which was lost, wandering for years in search of something to fill her emptiness.

Suzanne lost her mother to cancer when she was thirteen years old. The six-year-long battle took everything away from her family. They were financially, emotionally and mentally drained. Towards the end, Suzanne would hear mum wailing in pain and pray for the angels of death. All things happy took a severe beating. Small things which brought her joy, turned sour. She started despising the concept of happiness; she was convinced that she wasn't destined for it.

Middle school was challenging because of her mother’s chemotherapy and well, middle school kids. She looked forward to running back home and cuddling with her mommy. The best part of her day was watching her mother with a warm glow on her face. Her mother knew and made Suzanne aware of the fact that her struggle to stay alive was solely for Suzanne. It was at that moment that Suzanne felt whole. Loved. Worthy. However, the toll which the treatment took was often so unbearable, that dad wouldn’t let Suzanne see her. The little girl understood. It made sense to be tired after a long day. The times she had competed in music or art competitions in school and won was tiresome too. She didn't complain about the lack of applause or acknowledgement. All she asked for was good health for everyone around. Despite her mum telling her every day to move on and take care of dad after her death. Right after the cancer diagnosis, Suzanne had mastered the art of managing life without expectations. Retreating into her shell; she would laugh often, but anyone who knew anything about emotions could tell that she was in an emotional limbo. 

Mum’s passing marked the beginning of high school. Suzanne got the call on the coldest winter morning. She rushed back home because she had had a nightmare about her mom the night before, and wanted to get to her side, fearing the worst. Dad told her. She didn't cry, she asked about the funeral and the rituals that followed. Cancer had eaten up her mother’s body which is why they had to cremate her as soon as possible. Dad told her he had cremated mom’s body and was bringing the ashes home. Suzanne couldn’t say goodbye. After the passing, the hurt, anger, resentment and, later, acceptance made space for a loving relationship with her father. They were each other’s pillars both emotional and mental. She was proud of her dad because he was also a pillar for their extended sixteen-member family. Everyone counted on him. He had even taken care of Grandpa, becoming a full-time do-it-all nurse for the dying, old man. Dad stayed thankful for what he had, praying for good health and spending most of his time with his family. 

Suzanne had been a hoarse-voiced kid who was eventually blessed with her father’s musicality. They would make videos and sing for hours. Music was the only way they could relate and express without bursting into tears. However beautiful this picture may appear, it didn't last long. One year after mum’s death, dad decided to get married again. 

Suzanne felt betrayed, as though the very roof shielding her from the storm of adult life had given way. She cried, she wailed and ached in pain. She called up everyone she knew, everyone who she thought had the power to stop this ghastly misadventure. Her dad’s decision to get married again wasn't the misfortune, it was the timing; it hadn't even been a full year since her mother had passed away that he had decided to bring someone new in their lives going against everyone that mattered, going against his own daughter.

Suzanne was aware that things had gotten out of her hands. She knew she couldn't control her own life or what happened around her but she could abstain from doing things for people. She realized that being selfish was the need of the hour. In her fourteen years of life, she had always/often seen women being suppressed. But there was that one loony cousin who was rebelling because she was nineteen, and had run away from home to become a musician or an engineer or something. All the younger kids in the family were strictly told to keep a distance from her, fearing her wayward ways might rub off on them. She used to visit Suzanne, telling her about the fantastic world, hobos, music, happiness. Suzanne secretly admired her crazy cousin but never dared to go into full rebellion mode. Her cousin was physically abused growing up, she had an excuse. What excuse did Suzanne have other than being lost within herself and struggling to catch a break from the chaos?

Since childhood, Suzanne, her dad and her cousin were the only people she knew, who had the musical gift. They would often sing together for hours, harmonise, play instruments and challenge each other. After her dad’s second marriage, things got awkward and the relationship became strained. The family was incessant on Suzanne calling the new wife ‘mama’ which she refused and for good reason too. Dad sang for his new wife leaving Suzanne all by herself. Suzanne swore off music. 

Not a year into her father’s love marriage, the fighting began. Dad did all the housework while the new wife sipped tea and nagged him. After all that was wrong with their house, she could tell her father was in love, again. He had not made a single attempt to forget Suzanne’smother but the new wife had a place too, she ought to be acknowledged. 

Years flew by and Suzanne was now in her prime -- too tired to fight, too excited to give a damn. She had turned twenty. The family drama had gotten intense with her father and his wife. She usually kept away but ever since grandpa passed away in the summer, dad had been in a daze. He was still trying his best to manage his relationship with his mother, daughter and wife in the absence of his father.

Suzanne was worried for her father now, all of a sudden he was talking about death. One night he started running up and down their three-storeyed building with a fever of 106 degrees. Her grandmother refused to believe in his sickness whereas his new wife decided to run for the money as she saw his health dwindling. Sense was taking a leave from his statements and all that came out of his mouth was prayers to the lord and how he feels life has been unjust. All he cared about was Suanne and her wellbeing. He hadn't slept in three days. He eventually did. Suzanne had her heart in her mouth not knowing if he would wake up or when. He had a brain stroke from herpes encephalitis, a sporadic disease, but it happened. He survived paralysis two months before he passed away. 

Suzanne bawled her eyes that day. This change meant that she had to move out of the house. It also meant living with the crazy cousin. It meant being uprooted from her hometown and moving in with the already depressed elder brother of her father. As I mentioned, they were a joint family, they took care of each other, but without one of its pillars, everything had come crashing upon the Singh family. They were battling depression, grief, loss, shock - only a few decided to get professional help, but all of them hurt. Some spoke to psychologists, some took it out on their kids but they all hurt. Suzanne’s life had given her major trust issues by now, and she wasn't just magically going to believe in some psychologist telling her things would be fine. Thirty-five-year-old mom had died, her forty-six-year-old dad was dead, music was dead, God was dead, nothing was going to be fine, ever!

A couple of months passed while she slept under the blanket. She would confide in the aforementioned cousin and dad’s older brother was her new father. She had a new mother, a father, neither biological, but they were people who she had accepted and loved for many years prior. She drank with the loony cousin and her older friends and felt the freedom she always fought for. She screamed and shouted at the night sky and howled with the wind. She dressed up without care and cried when she was overwhelmed with the thought of being happy while grieving. Is it possible for someone who has had prolonged grief, to feel pleasure again? Her cousin was popping prescription pills for the same state. What was different with Suzanne? Had she lost her empathy, her ability to feel?

One day, she found herself praying to god. She didn't know what it was that she was praying for, but she knew she had to believe in something that had kept her alive all this while. There had to be a reason, after all. What comes next after bone-breaking misery, she wondered. She had started painting but sketching wasn't personal, it was a hobby. She had only sketched on mother’s day. She chose to paint only when the pain couldn’t be expressed with music. She would draw a kid on a swing with her mother’s aura around her. Always the same sketch. 

After losing her father and grandfather in the same year, she realized she had gained a brother, a sister, a mother and a loving father. She was aware that she had more than ever to lose now. She started praying and sketching and preparing for her future. Now that she was a part of this crazy family, she knew they were big on making careers with a laid back lifestyle. One day her sister took her to her favourite music shop and gifted her a ukulele. It was the first time Suzanne had heard of an absurd mini-guitar looking thing but she couldn't keep her hands off it. 

The entire ride home she played the uke’ and she played it well. She held it next to the opened window and showed off her new skill to the world. She played music, she sang, she did her little dancy-dance and laughed. She felt so young at the moment, like long lost lovers, in fact long lost friends meeting and dancing. She was a kid falling in love with snow for the first time. She felt how she felt the first time raindrops fell on her baby face and she chuckled. Music, her hobby, her haunting proved to be her inevitable life force, too. We choose our hobbies like we choose our friends in kindergarten. It clicks, and later in life when we push them away, they are still present. No matter how we treat our hobbies or true friends, it comes with the agreement of catching us when we fall, always. And music caught Suzanne when she was ready to fall.