MENTAL HEALTH
Glimpses Of Light In The Midst Of Darkness
Helping a stranger through creative efforts helped me
Yesterday was a dark day.
It happens to me on and off and more frequently than I would like to admit. It’s been going on for a couple of years now.
I go into a kind of darkness where I cease to find joy in anything or with anyone. I trudge through the day mechanically without my heart flashing a single smile. Not even a faint one — defeating my half-hearted mental efforts to make it happen.
Procrastinations and distractions take the centre stage without any wish to share it with anyone else.
And then eternal regrets follow.
I just lie on the bed, mindlessly scrolling Netflix or browsing the net, knowing exactly what I need to do to get back on track but feel immovable as if an invisible chain or an unknown shadow holds me back — ultimately falling into a chasm of frantic anxiety and despair, frequently making me teary-eyed.
I think about the times when I picked myself up from failures; I think about my past glories, getting into top-notch b-schools, grabbing highly paid consulting projects, earning recognition, transforming my body, spending great times with loved ones or helping the needy, but nothing seems to give me solace.
They say action beats anxiety.
I f****ing know. But I still do not act.
That invisible chain! Or did I say it was a shadow?
I go to bed with guilt and wake up with guilt and then the cycle continues until the day when the body miraculously generates and pumps out more serotonin temporarily bringing me out of it. Or maybe it is an uplifting movie or some long-lost loveable music at work.
I then become all jolly and energetic, smiling and humming, thinking of investing in real estate and doing great things with my career only to trip and again fall back into darkness the next day. Or the day after. Or in a few days. It’s really flimsy you see.
So, yesterday was one of those dark days.
Yesterday it was also a day when a new Airbnb guest checked in to our family home in Assam, India.
(Last year, while I was in India for an extensive period, I turned a part of our family house into an Airbnb).
The guests were a wonderfully nice family from America. The next day morning they were to check out to explore the wildlife of Assam and the hills and mountains of Meghalaya, a nearby state.
While speaking to them over WhatsApp video (I manage the Airbnb remotely with the help of a family member), I realised that they came quite unplanned.
They were still contemplating whether to go to the jungles or the mountains or both; were not sure which parts of the states to visit; wanted nature and fresh air but it was a polluted town that they were thinking about and had not booked any taxi, a service much required for such family trips. I guessed that visiting this part of India was probably a last-minute plan.
They were brutally short of time to plan it out as they checked in very late after a long flight and the next day morning they were to check out and move miles away to explore something that they were not sure about.
Anyway, after the virtual meet and greet, I bade them goodbye and good luck with a parting sentence, “If something comes to my head that I think may help you in your travel plans, I will let you know.”
And came a reply from the other side, “That would be very helpful.”
Not being able to sleep at night, I came downstairs at 11:30 PM, sat at the dining table and opened my laptop.
Netflix was lustfully glaring at me.
And besides it was the Airbnb tab — present like a humble bystander without any expectations.
My sentence — “If something comes to my head that I think may help you in your travel plans, I will let you know” — started running in my head.
It was their first time in that part of the world — my roots — and I earnestly hoped for them to have a charming time.
I thought of sending them a few recommendations.
I opened a Google Doc and started jotting down words.
Two hours later, I was still ramming my keyboard and ended up creating a proper guide with different itinerary options, rare hidden places, and links to recommended hotels and homestays with the managers’ phone numbers; spending time formatting, and trying to make the guide user-friendly.
I whatsapped it to my guests with the hope that it might help them with some decision-making. And also with some concern thinking would it make them more confused?
Today, I woke up and immediately felt the carry-forward darkness from the previous day.
Even when I was at my hopeless best plodding, scrolling and wasting with silent rebukes emitting from me to myself, I was thinking about the visitors and hoping that all was going well for them.
I called.
An animated voice from the other end exclaimed, “Aninda, we directly came to that lake as per your document. It’s so beautiful. Exactly what we were looking for. We have also booked cottages to stay here overnight like you suggested. Thank you so much.”
After the call, I was smiling. My heart was smiling.
Glimpses of light started eclipsing the dark.
Helping someone was helping me. A tiny act of kindness directed towards a stranger came back to work in my favour too.
So much so that it motivated me to write down this piece. This is probably one of the fastest ones I am writing in ages with a pretty good flow of thoughts.
It’s not going to remain, I know. Serotonins will run away to their hideouts and despair will sneak in. I am still a repair-in-progress.
But it tells me something.
A small help, involving some creative effort, that made a positive impact on someone made me happy.
It seemed to be different and more powerful than some help I have done on a bigger scale.
For example, last year, I bought a second-hand laptop for a needy student. For another needy person, I gave some money to help build her house. I did not see a similar visible change in my mood after those acts. Maybe I was in a better mental state at that time.
Still, as I more think about it I feel that it’s the “effort” factor that made the difference.
Both the above two altruistic actions did not involve effort. I had some spare funds which I transferred to their accounts. That’s it. No mental, physical or creative effort. Just some heart.
I am thinking about times when one donates money to a charity. Does that help one feel great especially when one is down and out? I am not sure.
Whereas, with my Airbnb guests, my 2-hour focussed mental efforts in the night which led to a positive result for them made me feel nice.
Of course, a single event can’t be used to draw solid conclusions but still, I will keep the thought with me for now and see how I can utilise and explore it more in my life.
A small help, involving some creative effort, that made a positive impact on someone made me happy.