The news broke out yesterday that Sushant Singh Rajput has died of suicide; at the age of 34; by hanging himself.
He was a famous, talented actor in the Indian film industry. For some unfathomable reason, this is feeling like a personal loss. Can’t take my mind away from it. Didn’t really follow him, wasn’t a big fan. Had watched his first movie ‘Kai Po Che!’, and remember really loving his part in it.
As any other Indian kid grown up around watching Bollywood movies, I too had know his background story. How he came from humble beginnings, how intelligent he was, with deep thoughts and how he had made it so far. And every time a person reaches great heights through hardships, knowing their story, you always root for them. Inadvertently. At the back of your mind.
So when this news hit the IG feed and group chats yesterday, it was shocking at the least. And I have been immersed in reading about it till now. To a point of exhaustion. It saddens me to think that, there came a moment in his life where he decided his life isn’t worth living. He sure must have tried every other outlet to reach this conclusion. It’s plain difficult for me to process that. His loved ones, their grief. His own anguish or helplessness that lead to this. And no matter how many discussions we have on mental health issues post his death or point fingers, it took a precious life to evoke this very heavy feeling in all of us. These troubled 3 am feelings. May he find his peace.
On that note, be kind friends. To yourself and to others.