The Indian Standard | JAN 2021

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D JAN 2021

BY JANANI

FEATURING

GUHAN KRISHNAN

ON TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCES AND HOW IT SHAPED HIS WORLD VIEW

VIJAY KABARIA

ON CREATIVITY, OWNING YOUR CRAFT AND TOXIC MASCULINITY

BHAVINI PATEL

ON EATING DISORDERS AND HOW SHE RECLAIMED HER SELF CONFIDENCE

DISSONANCE & HOW MENTAL HEALTH IS PERCEIVED

TABLE OF CONTENTS 03 Theme Explanation

13 An Interview with Vijay Kabaria

37 An Interview with Guhan Krishnan

07

10

Losing Focus

A Mixed Background

24

26

Self-Check Guide

An Interview with Bhavini Patel

45

46

Dissonance & Samsara

Special Thanks

THEME

EXPLANATION

DISSONANCE

communication. one of the most powerful tools to advocate for yourself and the people around you. you have free will to do as you please, however, the repercussions of your actions will come back to you, in goodness and in hate. dissonance. we see the world with one lens and that can create a path that is confusing and restless. i urge you to let go. communicate your thoughts to your people & the universe. trust that your life is on a path of abundance.

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pg 3

TRIGGER

WARNING

&

DISCLAIMER

This magazine may contain detailed information regarding anxiety, depression and suicide. Please read with caution.

The interviews, stories and entries in this magazine are included with the approval of the respective creators. All correspondence and interaction occurred prior to the publication of this issue.

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M ImayaN D

pg 5

THEME

EXPLANATION

DISSONANCE

maya

“On the basis of this misconception which ties together the hearts of the male and female, one becomes attracted to his body, home, property, children, relatives and wealth. In this way one increases life’s illusions and thinks in terms of ‘I and mine.””

Bhagavat Purana 5.5.8

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losing focus pg 7

Living your life for others can be exhausting.

We are expected to understand our trauma, process it and relay it to others in a way that makes sense to them.

It can be exhausting.

When we explain our hurt to family, it can be a process where our thoughts don't register to the people we love, because they have entirely different world experiences.

This is where the dissonance appears.

Mental health is a western term.

Our immigrant parents are not exposed to this term, so when we declare that we have to see someone to seek help, they think "something is wrong with them but it's too shameful to fix it".

We can conquer this by understanding and being there for ourselves first. For us to properly and adequately seek what we desire, we must completely know ourselves first.

The process of enlightenment can feel daunting and unapproachable. Almost as if this reality cannot be for us. However, the moment we surrender ourselves to the process, we can find understanding.

Allow for this dissonance to dissipate. Let go by releasing expectations of what you want and need.

pg 8

pg 9

A MIXED BACKGROUND RAVI SHANKAR DWIVEDI-LENG

Growing up with multiple identities or a “mixed” background has always been a challenging thing, especially in my younger years, while living in a smaller town. My mother’s family comes from the Eastern part of Uttar Pradesh, India, her father from near Benares (Varanasi) and mother from Gorakhpur. My Mom’s family immigrated to Montreal in the mid 60s and were one of the first Indian families to come over to Canada, specifically Montreal. My Dad on the other hand, grew up in the US, mainly in Boston, his father Immigrated to Canada from England and his mother is Canadian with predominantly Scottish roots. With this diverse heritage of mine, it resulted in (and still sometimes does) people asking constant confused questions, regarding my ethnicity, which can be mentally draining. In my case, these puzzling questions come from both my ethnic groups I’m related to, i.e. the Indian/Desi community and the general caucasian population. Whether it was at a Diwali/ cultural event or in the school yard, people always had and still continue to have their judgemental questions. At Indian events, I sometimes felt the need to try to be more Indian or “brown” and at Canadian events, I would try to be more “Canadian” and even joke about my Indian heritage with people who didn’t really understand it. This was a lot of back and forth of trying to fit in somewhere, while my interests shifted from time to time. Luckily, I have been blessed to learn a lot about my Indian and Hindu heritage thanks to my mother, especially my chance to learn Tabla (North Indian Classical drums) music from a young age. This lead to many opportunities to perform and participate within the Indian community, mainly in Niagara, where I spent most of my elementary and teen years, after living in Montreal for the first 8 years of my life. I have many positive memories of this and received much affection and appreciation from the community, yet there were always those distasteful comments or questions from time to time by uncles and aunties and other kids. Such as, “are you a red Indian or one of us?”, “so you’re a halfie?”, “But you don’t look Indian?”, to name a few. pg 10

I have tended to lean more towards my Indian side culturally but I also have and still do participate with my Canadian side, mainly through hockey. I grew up playing and watching it and still enjoy it to this day. The hockey community is predominantly white and there was a lot of small mindedness associated with some of the people I played with and who are associated with the culture. This again, resulted in subtle racism within the locker room, people joking ignorantly about my Indian background and other toxic behavior. I at times wasn’t sure to just joke around or stand up, while feeling tempted to act more like the people around me. Both of these scenarios within each separate communities, constantly made me question my identity and had some mental emotional dissonance associated with it. Over the years, I’ve realized people get so attached to a single identity and tend to become tribal, or are small minded and ignorant because they fear the unknown. There will always be a small group of people who have internal hate and who are hard to change. However, if we look at it from a point of sansar, a concept from Vedic philosophy, translating to the cycle of life and death, in simple terms, we see that we’re all pure, good souls that can take on multiple or infinite identities.

Understanding this simple yet deep concept has helped me own multiple identities and try to stick to the same values in everything I do while keeping an open mind and seeing the same humanity in the many cultures and traditions our world has to offer. For example, I have learnt from a few different tabla teachers, one being Hindu, another Muslim and another with Jewish roots. Yet, they all teach the same message through their knowledge they inherited from their gurus, spreading humanity through our art. The art of Tabla and rhythm in general is a great way to see similarities between groups of people that differ in race/language/gender etc through the universal language known as rhythm.

pg 11

I think if more people focus on similarities in people with different backgrounds, there would be much less divide in the world. It is fine to be proud of your heritage and culture, but equally important to ask yourself when you’re promoting it or defending it, is it an “us vs them” mentality, or somewhat nationalistic? Getting caught up in one single identity becomes tribalistic and can end up being harmful to others, if we learn to accept multiple identities, this can result in a more equal society. I have definitely learnt this better while studying at McGill in Montreal, most of my peers, both Indian and non-Indian, have experienced more diversity in their life, so they understand me better. It has also allowed me to learn the vastness of culture the world has to offer from meeting people from several different countries and remove any prejudices. Having leadership at the highest level is also a great start to promoting this message, Kamala Harris’ background is one I can really relate to and will enable multicultural people to have a more amplified voice.

Aside from her politics and past decisions, her mix of having a Tamil mother and Jamaican father and them accepting their differences for love back then, is inspiring.

Ironically, Kamala graduated High School in the same neighborhood where I went to elementary school, her mother taught at McGill like my mother and her sister is named Maya Lakshmi just like mine! I hope seeing diversity at this level of leadership inspires more people to respect each other’s differences and be flexible with social identities. Race does not define anyones culture and I try my best to demonstrate that by celebrating both parts of my heritage, while also supporting and celebrating my BIPOC friends’ traditions and festivals.

WE ARE ALL INFINITE AND ARE BORN WITH GOOD SOULS, IN THIS WORLD OF SANSAAR, AND I WILL CONTINUE MY BEST EFFORTS TO BRING THIS OUT IN PEOPLE, WHETHER IT’S OVER A CUP OF CHAI AT 5PM LIKE MY INDIAN RELATIVE OR OVER A GIN AND TONIC LIKE MY BRITISH AND SCOTTISH ONES.

pg 12

an interview with

VIJAY KABARIA

pg 13

When I was 16 years old, I stood atop a tall bridge itching, yet afraid to jump. 16 is a child, and remnants of suicidality lingers in my mind even to today. Mental health is often taboo in immigrant households, and as a man I was caught in a conflict of interests between myself and the expectations of my environment. That is no easy task for a mere child to forego, and millions face the same reality everyday. When mentioned, my parents were hesitant, and looked down with disdain, but began to accept as time passed, yet I still felt judged, so found my own solutions. Self medication, self destruction if you will. I don’t resent them for being unsupportive, their upbringing shaped their world views, but an ideological shift to nurture us in this new culture is necessary.

pg 14

I have acquaintances who are shockingly misogynistic, some literally don’t care about the implications of their actions, and others don’t know they’re wrong. Quite frankly, I have learned more about emotional intelligence and general world measures from women and the fact that society doesn’t deem them as highly as infuriating. Powerful women have taught me so much in life, information I’ll take to my grave and never forego. As a man, I feel a sense of responsibility to talk about these issues because it is hard to see women suffer in this way. Nobody should suffer. Rather than looking at toxic masculinity as a way to excuse men’s actions, I use it to empower my message.

pg 15

In my mind thoughts and ideas are represented visually— cinematically, innately artistic. Aging, I noticed room for overlap in my little pockets of interest, sharpening my skills with interconnectivity in mind. Playing with photoshop and applying skills to video software, or writing a poem but picturing a movie, I saw the forest for it’s trees. There is staggering complexity to almost everything— the more you learn the more you realize how much you don’t know. My ambition and product needed to be paired with an audience, and Tik Toks’ ability to provide organic growth widespread was an opportunity. One must treat art like a business to succeed in a business oriented world. One must stand out and have a reason valued. I must be best in class at what I do if I want first shot at opportunity and my goals to come to fruition.

pg 16

pg 17

With social media, people have short attention spans, I know I do. It is what it is, so I work within the confines of my playground, playing the game by its own rules. Social media is inherently superficial, but I yearn to lead a movement larger than myself.

I enjoy creating films that hold sentiment, craft sentences that convey value. I seek to provide something valuable to others.

pg 18

B OkarmaD Y

pg 19

THEME

EXPLANATION

DISSONANCE

karma

“In proportion to the extent of one’s religious or irreligious actions in this life, one must enjoy or suffer the corresponding reactions of his karma in the next.”

Bhagavat Purana 6.1.45

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Anonymous FROM THE DIARY OF

pg 21

Forgiveness If you look at my family, you’ll see four happy smiles of a father, a mother, the oldest son, and the youngest daughter. I’m that youngest daughter and I’m here to tell you that my family is not happy. My relationship with my brother was never a good one. We were always fighting for one reason or the other.

The fighting was pretty equal and we were both pretty careful not to seriously hurt each other because we would get in trouble. That was until my brother hit puberty. When my brother became thirteen years old, my life became a living hell.

I grew up in a very patriarchal Indian household. My father was the “man of the house” and it was my mother’s duty to serve him. If she did something my father didn’t like, he would abuse her. And to me this was normal. In fact, my earliest memory is actually of me watching my father beat my mother with a chair. My brother also witnessed this throughout his life. So he internalized the idea that it’s ok to hit a woman if she’s upsetting you or denying you in any way. This is what led to my brother severely abusing me from when I was ten years old till I was eighteen years old.

It started out as small things like pushing me slightly if I was in his way or smacking me upside the head if I said something that upset him. But gradually it turned into having my face slammed into a keyboard for allegedly breaking his pencil and dragging me across the floor by my hair. I tried getting help from my parents but anytime my mom intervened, he started hurting her too. If I begged my father to help me, he would just say “that’s just boys being boys” or “it’s just normal sibling rivalry.” Even my mom, who had experienced my brother’s rage, would say that I need to live with the abuse because he’s my brother and still loves me. Even though he hurt me constantly, no one else in the world will love me as family does.

I had internalized the abuse so much that I thought it was normal for me to fear my brother. This was coupled with the fact that my family and I were immigrants to the US at the time and I couldn’t call the police because that would ruin my brother’s life. My parents told me that I would be the worst little sister in the world if my calling the cops led to him getting deported back to India.

When I turned eighteen my brother hurt me for the last time. I had decided that I had enough of the constant pain and hurt. I started to realize that I was being manipulated by my family to keep quiet about all the abuse that I was being put through. I began to understand that the people who love you should never hurt you, both verbally or physically. So I cut my brother off. I didn’t talk to him for an entire year and god it felt so good. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders and I could finally breathe again. I didn’t have to lock my room or worry about accidentally touching his things. It truly felt so freeing and I didn’t feel the need to hide my story anymore.

pg 22

During that one year, my parents tried to guilt me into talking to him. Saying that he’s my only brother and in the future, he’ll be the only person that I can rely on. I was a bad sister and a bad daughter for giving up on my family. And that was what truly broke me. I went through all these years of pain and all my family had to say was that I was being a bad sister. This put me in a spiral of constant hate. This time that was supposed to be about recovering turned into me internalizing so much hate for my brother and my father. And it began to affect me so much mentally. would be alone in my dorm room in college crying about how shitty of a sister I was for cutting off my brother. In my parents’ eyes, the abuse I went through was normal but not talking to my brother was crossing the line. And I think that has a lot to do with the fact that I’m a brown woman. I grew up seeing how my mom constantly gave her life to a loveless marriage and an abusive husband all because that was what was expected of her. And that’s what my parents expected of me too. I had to keep quiet every time my brother abused me but I still had to give him my love as his only baby sister.

But I still kept at it. I kept my brother out of my life until I realized that I was being filled with hate. It was beginning to affect how I interacted with all men. I was fearful that any man I get close to would hurt me too. My friends noticed how I would flinch anytime someone laid their hands on me, only for me to relax when I realized that I was in no danger. I remember staying up at night and crying for hours because I hated how I was so afraid of everything.

And so, I made the decision to forgive my brother. Not because he deserves it, because I don’t think he does. But because I deserve it. I deserve to live a life without fear. I know it seems stupid to forgive your abuser and I’m not saying that it’s something everyone should do. Abuse affects everyone differently. For some, it means cutting them out of your life forever and that is perfectly ok.

The only reason I forgave my brother is that he was taught that it’s ok to hurt women. My family had never told him it was wrong to hurt me. Now that he’s grown up and realized that he could legitimately lose me because of what he did to me, he’s working on himself. I also forgave him because I know that my brother is no longer a threat to me. I stood my ground and told him that if he lays a hand on me again, I will have no hesitation to use the law and get him as far away from me as possible. But it’s been almost three years since that day and I’ve been unharmed ever since.

I haven’t actually told him that I’ve forgiven him. I just started talking to him again a year after I cut him off. He doesn’t need to know. Because the act of forgiving isn’t for him. It’s for me to stop holding so much hatred and fear in my heart. It’s for me to stop being weighed down by the guilt that my family put on me. It’s for me to stop surviving and start living.

One day I came across the words “courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important.” I see my act of forgiveness as an act of courage. It’s me showing myself and everyone around me that my brother no longer has the power of fear over me. Because my mental health and my happiness are more important than anything I’ve ever been afraid of. Because I am more important than anything I’ve ever been afraid of. pg 23

Self Check Guide

pg 24

I have learned so many lessons in just this week that I am ready to be critical and understanding of myself. I am done reprimanding myself, and I am ready to change for the better.Here are some questions I will be asking myself to ensure consistent growth…

Are you truly listening to the intention of the other party?

Why do you feel everyone is attacking you?

Are you projecting past trauma?

Do you recognize that isn’t fair?

Do you have to be right in every discussion or debate?

Are you able to have a conversation without enforcing your opinions as facts?

How do you deal with conflict?

Are you prepared to look at the problem objectively?

Rather than getting angry, are you taking a step back to see if this situation is worth your energy?

Do you love your life and the soul that you possess? Are you self-sabotaging?

How have you dealt with your anxiety today?

How dependent are you on the stability of your environment?

If something changes, will you collapse?

Do you trust that everything happens for a reason? Really and truly?

How are you coping with past trauma?

Has it come up today and is it feeding your insecurities?

Why do you feel people owe you?

If you did something for them, didn’t you do it out of the goodness of your heart and not because you expected something in return?

How full is your cup today and do you need to take time off of relationships or work?

pg 25

Most of you know me as the colorful Instagram girl; but who is @bhavpat stripped of the color? Who is @bhavpat in black and white?

Unfiltered, to core, I am a lover and a fighter- a girl who patches up her own scars and loves herself so fiercely as to show others how to love her; a girl trying to “spread love to all” as her name translates; a girl who walks through fires unafraid of shedding her old skin to be reborn anew; a girl whose daily metamorphosis is both beautiful and messy and still she wouldn’t give up on trusting the process of it all. But I haven’t always been this girl who is ready to give up control, adapt to change and love and fight for herself regardless of if anyone was by her side.

an

interview with Bhavini Patel

pg 26

Just the other day, a friend from High School sent me photos he took of me in class during winter 2014/15; a time in my life that I pretty much keep blacked out because my world had been overrun by my demons. I couldn’t recognize the girl in the photos, but there was something different about that girl: something special and something dark. This was me before I’d be broken unrecognizably- never to be the same again; before my dark habit caught up to me and brought on the darkest, loneliest days of my life. The girl in the photos was as beautiful as could be (way more beautiful than I felt at the time): stunning outfit, hair, makeup, eyebrows, teeth, skin (I’m pretty sure that was the last time my skin was that clear too). But it wasn’t just superficial things that made her special: it was in the way she composed herself as only Blair Waldorf could rivel. Complete strangers would come up to me to tell me that the way I carried myself or walked in the hallways empowered them; that I encompassed grace and exuded confidence. People saw a smart, put together girl— yet they didn’t see her coming completely undone on the inside.

What they didn’t see was a girl chasing an unrealistic ideal of perfection in the hopes that it would make her “enough”— enough to be loved back, to make people stay, to feel life was in her hands. That’s what my eating disorder essentially came down to: my need for control. I was going through new experiences in my life that weren’t what I had always expected they’d be like; and I was in a phase of life where everyone around me knew what they were supposed to be doing with their lives except for me. They had family guidance to give them frameworks of what they had to do to “achieve” a better future, while I was supposed to figure it out all my own. I was 15 going on 16, going into my Junior year just enjoying being young. But, by the time I figured out that I should be thinking about my future, I was already miles and miles behind in the race for “success” in a highly competitive school.

pg 27

So, there I was: in an exciting time to be young and in love; and yet, I couldn’t be further from happy. At the time I didn’t know that you couldn’t make someone love you, but I was determined to try. In my head, ever since middle school, I thought guys only dated fit girls with perfect bodies. So, I was convinced that having abs would make me good enough to have the happiness I saw in social media photos. I spent every waking moment, from the moment I woke up to the moment I finally fell asleep, playing a constant game of how I could minimize the amount of calories I ate to an obscenely low number. (Spoiler: I graduated college with a degree in Computer Science, so I’m pretty good at creating optimization algorithms.)

It was all fun and games at first. In a world where over-exhaustion, thinness and dieting was praised, I saw no error in my decisions. In January 2015, I became amenorrheic. My menstrual cycle stopped because my body was at such a low weight that it couldn’t support my reproductive system. This was the first time I became alarmed of something wrong in my body, yet when I confided in my closest friend that my period was lost, she praised me for my thinness, said how she wished she was as thin as me, and encouraged me to keep going. In the span of that week, every person in my life who I loved and cared for, including my parents, turned their backs on me and left me out in the dark storm to drown. To mimic the drowning, I’d sit in the bathtub for hours as numb as could be, completely broken and abandoned. Topped off by fainting in school by the end of the month, this was my rock bottom. My only friend: my demons.

pg 28

Very soon, I became a corpse in a 16 year old’s body. I was so tired and fatigued, I could barely walk up the stairs. I’d drink 3 cups of chai everyday just to function. I’d wake up at 5:30 am to perfect my makeup, hair and outfit, go to school and be a perfect student, work out for an hour everyday afterschool, and spend the night into the wee hours doing school work- somehow still maintaining high grades. My body became completely stripped of all my fat and muscles; stripped to just the bones… my collar bones, my rib cage, my cheek bones- all my bones were completely pierced out like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin barely as protection. When I’d turn my palms over, I’d see every single vein in my arm bulged out. My feet would turn blue with frostbite. My once long, thick hair was cut to the shortest length I’ve ever had because it became as thin as my wrists had become. I was numb and emotionless to the core. My demons had taken complete control over me. All that brought me “joy” was controlling my food intake.

June 1st, 2015. It’s been 5.5 years to the day since I chose recovery. Without the help of anyone, I choose to live again.

Recovery was harder than any of these lowest points. It's an excruciating process that very few people understand, because most people assume that eating disorders are just a physical illness and that once you gain weight, all is well.

Well, that’s wrong! You don’t need to look like the poster child of anorexia to have an eating disorder. I had been suffering from disordered eating and body dysmorphia for years before it spiraled into a serious eating disorder. You can be sick at any size; it’s all about what is going on inside your head. With every bite, I had to consciously choose recovery and what was best for me over what the demons in my head were telling me. The hospital may have been cold and frightening, but the fear and/or guilt of any relapsing thoughts or behaviors was even more daunting. But, there I was: I woke up everyday to face my demons 3-5 times a day all on my own. My utensils were my sword and shield; the greatest weapons to slay the beasts inside my head.

Because of how I went through my darkest days without a support system, I decided to document my entire recovery on Youtube to be there for anyone who needed to hear the things that I had learned when I decided to be the heroine of my life, instead of the victim. Through extremely raw videos, I built a supportive community where hundreds of girls still to this day message me telling me how much my videos have helped them in their own recovery. As South Asians, we’re taught to hide anything that may make us seem “weak” or “broken”; but I believe we must own our stories to free ourselves of shame or guilt and to inspire hope to those who need it.

pg 29

It took years to unlearn that my own body and food weren’t the enemies, to love and nourish my body despite the parts of me that weren’t perfect, and become a “normal” eater again. But, all the healing was worth it. Eating is the foundation of life; one can’t possibly function well if they aren’t fed. I was amazed at the lengths my horizons expanded when I was finally able to move past this basic need and discover who I am without someone telling me I wasn’t enough. However, I’ll never say I’m fully recovered, because I know that my demons still live in the teeny tiniest darkest corners of my head, waiting for their opportunity to create havoc again, but I will never go back to how things were. My unhealthy thoughts may arise at very few times, but whenever they do- I remember WHY I choose to eat.

When I had no one, when I still have no one, I have my Bhagwans, who allowed me to see light in my lonely darkness, and my future children, who gave me a dream for the future to live for. The idea that my period stopped was so crushing to me; and in those teenage days where I had no clue of the future I wanted, it became clear to me that my future wanted kids in it. For the first time, I realized how truly miraculous the female body is. It isn’t something meant to be shrunk to take up less space.

Rather, it is a powerful vessel that somehow keeps you alive despite your best efforts to destroy it and it’s literally capable of creating life inside of you.

pg 30

As an unfortunate irony, this year I’ve been going through similar (if not harder) life changes as I had been going through during my rock bottom in my eating disorder. This year has been filled with more scars than ever, just bleeding every which way. But, I’ve responded in a different way than I did then. I mean, I can barely get out of bed some days, I sleep late at night and wake up in the middle of the day after most of the sunlight is gone, but I’m surviving by letting myself feel every emotion, being vulnerable and practicing gratitude. I don’t let bumpy roads lead to a relapse, because I remember how destroying my body never gave me the peace of mind I thought it would in the first place. Taking up less space or restricting food isn’t going to solve any of my problems- it will just put my life in danger.

My body is far from perfect but I have a strong relationship with my body and food, because I choose to love the home I am in as if it is my temple. In other aspects of my life, I’m still learning to love myself every day and heal from wounds. I don’t have life figured out in the slightest- but I’m not anxiously trying to find control elsewhere. Eating disorders are a form of addiction, which is why I also abstain from any substance that may cause dependency- like caffeine and alcohol. When I feel frustrated or angry as to why things don’t work out the way I want them to, I surrender to Bhagwan and trust that the future is unfolding the way it is meant to be based on His timing.

pg 31

Hrishika FROM THE DIARY OF

pg 32

In college, I befriended many people. Although the connection was enjoyable, the friendships I surrounded myself with weren’t healthy. I couldn’t stand up for myself when my own friends had made comments on my appearance and my relationships. The worst part was I didn’t realize how suffocating it was until I took the time to process and feel everything that happened during the time I associated with these people. I never faced more conflict than when I started my own South Asian mental health organization to raise awareness. I knew what people were thinking. I knew some of them wanted to easily label me as crazy, so crazy I had to start a whole organization on it. Others would find any way possible to discourage me from continuing my leadership within the organization. It astounded me how much our own community was willing to tear someone down over an organization that was meant to do good for us. People would make side comments like “that must look so good on your resume” to downgrade the passion and effort I put into raising mental health awareness. Time after time, people would try. But now, we’re standing so strong. Many new faces have joined to advocate for the purpose of the organization and see its potential to succeed. We recently even landed the front page of our school newspaper for creating a student-run magazine. I’m here to tear down this model minority myth. No one is having the best time of their life at all points of their life. It is not our job to act like we are thriving in every part of our life. It’s our job to show the world that we are human, and even more importantly, we are resilient.

We all go through struggles that are important to express and feel, and I want to give a voice to those that have been torn down when they’re trying their best to grow. When it feels this way, remember that you have yourself to support and in time, you will find better.I wrote a poem to symbolize my growth over the years.

It shows how it’s changed me for the better when I began to focus on myself. The background of the picture is a phoenix which symbolizes regeneration and what I also embody within the poem and myself. It is also the logo of the mental health organization I run.

pg 33

Water poured out of the faucet Washed off the surface level grime The friends that were no longer She pulled the dirt out from under her fingernails The words they said behind her back She wiped her tears across her sleeve The altered perception of herself That people convinced her out to be “Semi-attractive” “A 2 out of 10” And then she scrubbed The underlying layer of mud, grime, dirt, grease The insecurities Her nose that sat too largely on her face Her height, not quite 5’5 but not quite 5’4 either Her lack of curves “Fat in all the wrong places” She washed And she scrubbed Till all that was washed off was no longer What remained?

A clean sink.

Remnants of what was But most importantly, Her. Her in her purest form.

Acceptance of who she is Confidence in what she is capable of pg 34

S OmokshaU L

pg 35

THEME

EXPLANATION

DISSONANCE

moksha

“Perfection is characterised by one’s ability to see the self by the pure mind and to relish and rejoice in the self. In that joyous state, one is situated in boundless spiritual happiness, realised through transcendental senses. Established thus, one never departs from the truth, and upon gaining this he thinks there is no greater gain. Being so situated, one is never shaken even in the midst of greatest difficulty. This indeed is actual freedom from all miseries arising from material contact.”

Bhagavad-gita 6.20–23

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pg 36

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an interview with

GUHAN KRISHNAN

pg 37

Growing up, in my generation, there was no representation in the media. I grew up with rich white people and that really influenced what I perceived since there weren’t that many Indian people in my area. Naturally, as time went on, Indian people moved near me but it was definitely hard at first. As a result, there was a lot of bullying and confusion because what you learn at home versus what you have to practice at school is so different. I mean, even with Vibhuti, teachers would be like “wipe that off”, and there was so much racism at my school.

There were so many subtle hints at white privilege and I just wanted to get out of there.

pg 38

Describe your mental health journey.

There were a lot of negative things that happened in college though. I was what people thought, a “fuck boy” and when I dated this girl, a lot of that came out. I learned a lot about myself and when we broke up, it was a low for me. At that point, I attached happiness to monetary outcome and really believed that if I got good grades, I was happy, if I was popular among friends, I was good. Then it hit a point, where I was like, what is wrong with me? There is nothing more that can come out of life and I have peaked. So that night, I texted my family and said “I love you”. Then I tried to commit suicide and jumped off the roof of my fraternity house. It was 50 feet and I was at the top floor. Next thing I know, I’m in the hospital. I don’t know everything that happened but I couldn’t talk or move - I was in a coma for six weeks and hospitalized for six months. Once I started gaining consciousness as to what had just happened, that was a start to a big change in my life. I realized that I had to figure out everything all over again.

It was no longer about what classes to take next semester, it was figuring out how to eat, walk and talk again. A lot of things changed for the better. For a long time, I was looking for my purpose in life, and through this experience, I had found it.

There were a lot of things that led me to want to take my own life. The toxic masculinity that surrounded me at the time definitely influenced a part of that - I was told that you were masculine based on popularity, how many women you had been with and measuring things that shouldn’t be measured.

Toxic masculinity and the explanation of it should NEVER excuse Indian men’s behavior towards women, however understanding it can be helpful so you aren’t a victim to this behavior.

pg 39

How did your parents deal with your mental health journey? Did you see any external support within family and friends?

During that time, my family dynamic was a bit strange. I can never blame my parents and both of them went through a lot - throughout my life my mom really taught me how to love. However, my dad was a victim of abuse and I learned that children of abusive parents become abusive themselves - that cycle would be consistent. My parents always had good intentions of course, but we were in a household with a lot of yelling. When I was in the hospital, my mom was so sad and both of them kept asking themselves “what did we do wrong?” They had a hard time in the beginning because no one really knew if I was going to make it - so it was really hard for my family to see that.

Everyone was shocked that this was a thing in my life because I was a really happy guy, externally. However, my friends were a huge part of my recovery and my fraternity, Beta Chi Theta was instrumental. We had a lot more mental health seminars and I facilitated some events as well - now I do a lot of public speaking about my story. I think every immigrant kid has some sort of mental health struggles given how different the cultures are and I started working with Massachusetts General Hospital’s Center for Cross-Cultural Student Emotional Wellness. They specialize in support for students who have multicultural backgrounds given that these kids have high statistics in mental health struggles, suicide attempts and suicide completions.

pg 40

How do you feel about the mental health education in America?

Mental health only has a white, nuclear family mindset in this country. The framework is a white guy and is not very culturally adaptive, and in my experience needs to be more South Asian oriented. But at this point in time, we aren’t exactly encouraging very many people in the South Asian community to talk about these issues. Right now, we have the power to be the next generation to really transform what mental health means. At the end of the day, it’s a community.

Before we even get into mental health resources, we need to become a group that respects the journey and struggles that we all already relate to - at the end of the day, we are so divided with the South Asian community and we need to come together.

How do you feel about the brown community?

I can only speak on my experience, but from what I have seen, we grew up thinking we were the side character in a story. Then we went to college and got involved in brown organizations and then we were like “oh SHIT, we are the MAIN CHARACTER!” The ego goes straight to our heads and we start treating each other just like the way we were treated. There is so much drama in this community, whereas, if people understand that we are going through the same struggles, we could create something so much more beautiful and stick together.

pg 41

Anonymous FROM THE DIARY OF

pg 42

From childhood I have had problems with, what I feel I can summarise as, not feeling okay, or just not happy. When I was a child, I wouldn’t have described it as depression as it was a lot more like boredom. I had this feeling of unsatisfaction from my participation in conversations, I recognised that the way people responded/spoke to me was just less enthusiastic than it was with others. Even when I got to speak to people who would try their hardest to make conversation with me, there was just something lacking that I saw present in other’s conversations. My family was dysfunctional in terms of our communication amongst each other, partly due to my mother suffering with depression, which I’m sure led to each of my family members having a lot of their own problems to deal with. With no one really checking in on how, or what I was doing, I basically raised myself. My communication barriers prevented me from being able to enjoy conversing with others anywhere other than my daydreams, in what to me seemed to be a method of practising conversing, ended up becoming my coping mechanism. I remember feeling very strange for doing this so I hid it from my family, but along with the frustration I was feeling from not being able to express myself as I could in my head, led me to start believing something was wrong with me.These feelings from childhood held me back from growing during my late teens, in terms of my social ability. And after experiencing the traumatic torture of my dad’s health condition slowly worsening to the point of bringing him to the brink of death, this emotional weakness was exposed. I believe I had a mental breakdown but refused to accept it, which led to its effects dragging on for the next 5 years. During this time, I discovered how truly painful loneliness can be, a deep feeling of sadness that has this echo-like ache inside you.At this point in time, after reaching my lowest point of despair about 2 years ago, I have come a long way.

pg 43

Therapy, and a self-care routine, have given me more emotional maturity, a better ability of understanding others, and a better understanding of myself. But even still I feel like I’m only just beginning to move on from those feelings. Although I’m really happy with the improvement I’ve made to my life and relationships with my friends and family, I’m currently being assessed for autism and I still have a lot of fears of what my life will be like as I grow older. Making friends continues to be a struggle for me, and I have no experience with romantic relationships. I feel like the chances of me having to bear growing old alone are realistic, and I don’t know how I will ever be able to come to terms with this.I’ve read that loneliness is an emotional survival function for when you are a child, and the memories you have of moments of abandonment trigger the response again as an adult when you notice the situation arising again. Fear is also a built-in survival function, but we are all aware of how it holds us back, so we overcome it. I am not faced with any immediate danger by being left alone, and I cannot read the future to know how long I will be alone. The same way diving into your fears removes its association in your mind with things going wrong, I think diving into my loneliness by actively making time to be alone could help me build up ideas of how to cope with it so that, although I will definitely always yearn the feeling of human connection, I won't need it as I’ll have a whole list of other things which satisfy me. Maybe? Hopefully.

pg 44

THEME

EXPLANATION

dissonance & samsara maya. karma. moksha. this issue is to show how our minds can divert us from the greater truth. the cycle of life and death proves that life while linear on earth, is an evolution of our karma and what we do will have positive and negative repercussions. we must learn from our mistakes, but that's what life is for! having an enjoyable life is easy. it just takes one notion: love the process and the process will love you back.

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pg 45

SPECIAL

THANKS

2020 what a year. we all went through something together and i hope that unity has touched your life in some capacity. i am eternally grateful for the struggle and the pain that this year has caused because now I can look inwards and truly reflect upon what i have not let go of.

2021 i declare that this will be year of letting go and relishing in the abundance that i will create.

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pg 46

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credits

JAN 2021

Cover MIND A Mixed Background An Interview with Vijay Kabaria BODY Self Check Guide An Interview with Bhavini Patel From your Diary: Hrishika SOUL An Interview with Guhan Krishnan Back Cover

VOL 2 ISSUE 1

@guhankrishnan @by.janani // iskconeducationalservices.org @taalpapi @vijay.kabaria @by.janani // iskconeducationalservices.org @by.janani - shot by: @tejxpatel @bhavpat @hrishika.hm @by.janani // iskconeducationalservices.org @guhankrishnan @guhankrishnan

SOCIAL MEDIA Instagram Personal Instagram Tik Tok YouTube

@theindianstandard @by,janani @by,janani JANANI

www.theindianstandard.co

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