Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Rings of Smoke

You may call me a drug addict.

What happened to me, from a first time drug user to a drug addict?

What happened along the way?

What caused me to drift away?

Was this my purpose or was I confused?

I know probably at the start of the story you’ve already stereotyped me as one of those who is detached from society antisocial and self-involved. I will not try to influence your perception of me in any way but request you to just read through my story. It at the start seems like any run of the mill story but all I can say is that in such a position I could have done no better.

My father died while I was only 13yrs old. Mum was an emotional wreck. The trauma of his death affected her deeply and it was something she could not get over. She started hallucinating and imagining certain scenarios that were not present. Dad believed in trust funds and life insurance and left us quite a tidy sum which enabled us to live the way we were. Mum had a master’s degree in economics so she took to teaching at a local college. Though at times she did hallucinate in class, she would stare at a student or off into the distance as if in a trance.

In school I felt the absence of dad whether be it during any functions or any discussions even. Dad to me was more of as friend than a father. He had directed and guided my life for those 13 yrs and made me the 1st class student that I was. It was difficult. My classmates mocked me. They made fun of me for not having a father. I would come back home, move quietly into my room, sit on the floor and weep. Later on, when I’d leave the room for dinner I couldn’t look into mum’s eyes I could not see a broken woman there. It was really difficult. Mum would have her hallucinations at home too, I tried calming her down but would soon realise that she would calm down on her own.

Life went on. I had to drop out of school. I went to Manipal to study hotel management. While at Manipal, without the guidance of mum, I did not know what was right and what was wrong. It was then that one of my hostel mates introduced me to Charas. It was a unique combination of herbs, plants from the hills and nicotine. I experienced my first high. Charas made me forget any worldly cares, any issues, any problems. I felt for once, free. I felt like I could fly away like in my dreams. But I was not dreaming.

I finished my two years at Manipal a first time drug user to a daily addict. I used to steal and bully other hostel mates into giving me their money so I could but more from the local drug pedlar. I took a train back to Mumbai. Back to the city of dreams.

I started working at a local three star hotel. About two to three months after my work there had commenced, mum passed away. I was now twenty with no one by my side.

My closest relation left was my uncle. I thought that he would support me in this time of need but instead he chose to come into my room at nights and take advantage of me. When I’d tell my aunt about these incidents she’d turn a deaf ear and accuse me of maligning “a great man”. I wanted to get away. I continued to work at hotels for about a year or so but then, I decided to switch my career and move to the high flying bollywood makeup industry.

I needed a mentor and found one in Ronnie Walia. Ronnie was like a father to me. After my own father, he came next. He taught me everything about the make up industry but at times I hated him. He had brought me back into the world of drugs, alcohol, illness and relationships that I wanted to stay out of.

As they say, there is nothing as a free lunch. You have to give to get in return. In this case, I had to sleep with him. I soon branched out into the make up industry on my own but I could no longer love a woman. I treated them now more as goddesses than the someone any man could love. But my life was far too messed up for me to comprehend. I had no direction. I had no real friends. All my partners wanted only physical relations. I had no emotional respite and hence turned to drugs to take me out of this hellhole.

I began smoking cannabis, weed, I took crystal meths and heroin. Most of my money was spent on cigarettes and drugs. I didn’t know when to stop. I needed direction. I couldn’t check into rehab as I was still making my mark in the make up industry and it was hard to get by with what I earned. So, the addiction, same sex relationships and unprotected sex continued. I approached psychiatric counsel but it was of no help.

I was given medication but with increasing stresses and tensions and mounting insecurities in relationships the drug intake increased. Sometimes, if drugs were unavailable, I’d try to achieve the temporary high by sniffing white ink in desperation.

I tried to get away. I tried yoga. I tried everything I could but with no avail. Its been many years now and still haven’t gotten off the addiction. My life has taken a stable turn but the addiction refuses to cease. I need help.

This is a fictional tale, written by me about a guy suffering from drug addiction.
Image Courtesy:
.requiem for a dream.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

for being fictional i think you have lots of talent. i think you should write a book. i'd read it
liv silverstone