The morality of suicide

By Bijaya Biswal

“But in the end, one needs more courage to live than to kill himself” –Albert Camus.

What is the real value of human life? Our consciousness convinces us that we think and therefore we exist, but in reality, existence is only preliminary to being. This is a unanimously acknowledged foundation on which our essence remains to be built. We are required to add meaning to this gratuitous passage of time, pretend we are skilfully steering and gearing our boats and not just helplessly marching towards death because that is what makes the life of Gandhi more worthwhile than that of a farmer’s, or an army general’s more revered than an artist’s. These parameters to define who is making more sense for the greater good and is more significant in weaving the fabric of the society.

The loss of a loved one

Only last month, I stood beside the burning pyre of a deceased cousin, almost watching her soul escape through the dancing flames of the fire, in the form of smoke that cannot be seen until it reaches the sky, and condenses into a beautiful star in the gardens of heaven. My whole family graced the funeral in white since white is the colour of oblivion, of regret and nothingness. White is what ghosts look like, although, often the ghosts are not the demise but the ones left behind. For the next few weeks, the prayer rooms at our house were stranded, owing to the give and take contracts that religions often are and loss generally leads to disillusionment with God. Cursed silence fell upon anyone who walked by her wardrobe or dusted her bookshelves and the sounds of conscience breaking, bleeding through the wounds of guilt and negligence could be heard, when we sat under the very ceiling fan she had hung herself from, in the living room.

Filling a void

Living hearts do not stagnate, they are meant to beat with desire and progress. In a month or so, trousers, scarves, and uniforms in red, blue and magenta could be seen rushing through the kitchen and dining hall to offices and schools, rejoining the war of survival already, now that time had made the bandages of emotional damage come apart. The void that my cousin had left behind was replaced by exhaustion that came from overwhelming work-hours, newly joined music classes, or evening television soaps. The ceiling fan roared like the wheel of life, slicing the tenacity in the air into pieces, making noises of rattling and wobbling that were loud enough to drown another family member’s lonely cries in the bathroom. It is strange that families never see a suicide approaching and stare with disbelief when it finally arrives as if it were an unprecedented event.

Labels on suicide

The worst is not the fast-track coping mechanisms of our loved ones after our death, which questions the notion of our positions being irreplaceable in anyone’s life. Instinct and the weak memory of human beings cannot be complained about. What is disturbing, is that within a few days of my cousin’s departure, people dared to paint her suicide as a symbol of irresponsibility. “Ladke ka chakkar tha”, they gasped in shock when the dissection of her personal life revealed her indulgence in a love affair. “Maa Baap ke bare me to sochna tha”, She should have thought about her parents after her irreversible and impulsive mistake. I believe neighbours are the most myopic and insensitive species, next to relatives.

What suicide entails

First, suicides are never impulsive. They are not the result of a moment of anger or sorrow but rather, a prolonged state of despair and unhappiness. It is a psychiatric state that needs proper attention and observation rather than kind advice. Second, the reason behind the suicide is never a single event. Not a breakup but possibly the lack of any source of love at all through many years. Not a failed exam as much as the thoughts of its repercussions. Not a relationship, as much as the mental abuse involved in it for any reason whatsoever. Third, who is to decide which reason is ethical enough to give a life away? Why is a premarital love affair a trivial stigmatised cause to die for, but an abusive marriage a better and easily accepted one?

Part of a whole

Confucianism endorses that life given away only for others as a sacrifice is justified. However, an individual is often reduced to his relationship with others and his emotional obligation to family or immediate company are on a higher pedestal than his own expectations from them or anything else solely personal. We have turned into chess pieces but never consider the possibility of a checkmate situation in someone’s life. We have turned into a herd, where everyone exists only because they are part of something bigger, and mental health does not hold as much importance as social duty does. Earlier this year, when India declared legalisation of the right to commit suicide, I subliminally rejoiced this public agreement to the fact that man is not an object of the state. Nevertheless, he has failed to unchain himself from the dungeons of society, from the stigma that resides inside his heart. He is an object to himself. Ironically killing oneself, for freedom from himself, and later laughing hysterically at this act.

Politicisation of suicide

Manu Joseph once wrote a wonderful article, wherein he highlighted the fact that farmer suicides were much less frequent than suicides among the middle class of India. However, when painted with political colours, they became more fathomable and urgent for newsreaders. Apparently, every man has to be politicised to be avenged for an “organised suicide”, but never understood, never empathised with and never sent help for. I wonder if there is a good enough reason to commit suicide, or a reason bad enough. The same goes for living. However, what is saddening is that even the question of life and death can easily be reduced to its nearest stereotype. Prejudice is the adhesive that makes societies coherent by inhibiting differences. Till it is propagated, accepted and internalised, the value of human life will remain confined to an identity, a number, a system and will never be more than that.

Featured Image Source: Pascal Volk via VisualHunt / CC BY-SA