Fifty-Somethings: Living and Dying in India

DEATH BY JUMPING

I find it is difficult to go on a trip to the market, or take a walk through the neighborhood, without jumping over big potholes, looming mud puddles (it’s Monsoon season right now), and leaping over big cement curbs or other such barriers on the path. All this jumping is keeping us in shape, along with the five flights of stairs we must climb to get to our flat.

You often read stories in the Delhi newspaper about how people have thrown someone from a balcony in rage. Some have jumped to their death from several stories up, usually out of despair from not passing their exams or somehow dishonoring their family. Shame is likely the number one cause of depression and suicide here in India. Shaming one’s family, it is thought, is a fate worse than death.

There is another kind of jumping that Chuck and I have been learning to do here. It actually feels to us a bit like bungy jumping might (but we’ve never bungy jumped - so can’t really say). I think the common terminology is “taking risks” or making a “leap of faith.” This kind of jumping has never been our strong suit as we have usually tried to calculate the outcome, weigh the odds, and analyze the pros and cons before making a decision. Living here has forced us to make some risky jumps that have been uncomfortable – even really stressful – but the outcome has been so worth it.

One small example of this is opening our home to people as a safe place to stay in Delhi. Many of these people are virtual strangers at the beginning of their stay, but leave as good friends.