Just over a week ago, a young actor from the regional Telugu Film Industry known as Tollywood, Uday Kiran, took his own life by hanging himself from the ceiling wall. While the investigation into his tragic death are still going on, it is speculated that being unemployed for a long part of time subsequently led to depression which may have played a role into his untimely death.
As an aficionado of Telugu films, I had been impressed with Uday's early movies. His movies were romantic-action capers, with an element of college/university life thrown in. The TFI performs as a kind of ogliarchy according to news articles, no different to other film industries worldwide, where family members of illustrious actors of the years past, control the "shots" (no pun intended). Thus a young commerce graduate making it big without a "Godfather" was seen by many as a welcome change and his movies were awaited with excitement. Added to this, were three successive hits, and soon he was the second-youngest winner of India's National Film Award for Best Actor, with only Kamal Hassan an acting powerhouse of South India. One of his movies "Nuvvu Nenu", meaning "You and I" still remains a personal favourite of mine, with it's dialogues, screenplay and music (one can listen to a song which rocked the charts that year, titled "Gajuvaka Pilla", "The lass from Gajuvaka [a town in Andhra Pradesh]" here) It soon became apparent that this young actor was heading into the big leagues, when a personal setback and some would say poor choices of movies took a toll. With hindsight being 20/20 with clear skies, one could have argued that had he chosen to, for lack of a better word, "diversify", he would be able to hedge his risks and even if he couldn't regain the stardom at the start of his career, he could have still been around. Howevever, I digress.
My thoughts aren't about what Uday Kiran could/should/would have done. I found it deeply tragic that a young man, with immense potential, who had appeared to put the past behind him, felt so alone, so helpless, that he saw no other way out than to end his life. Not having been diagnosed with depression, I am in no way qualified to even proffer any kind of advice how to deal with it. Indeed, a good friend of mine, a classmate and now colleague at work sent me this picture below, which I found quite apt. It shows scenarios where the advice given to those depressed is given to those suffering from other illnesses:
Although not having suffered depression, I was exposed to it during my formative years when a family member had a bout of depression. She is the most toughest member of the family mentally and while I did not realise it then, time, research and public knowledge has made me wise to the fact depression, like other illnesses knows no age, no gender and no barriers. It affects all without fear or fervour. At the time, the family member sought refuge in family friends, one of whom was a doctor. I believe what got her through was this close circle of friends and her unwavering faith in spirituality. However, this isn't a treatment for everyone and I still believe it is the responsibility of anyone who knows people suffering from depression to approach qualified help. When close family friends confide in the fact that they were "feeling down every day", "not wanting to wake up and go to work", "not wanting to talk to anyone", it suggests something more than just "Monday morning blues"; something that requires professional assistance. I consider myself fortunate to be there for those who wanted to help. Indeed my (finite) knowledge of depression comes only from the fact sheets of not-for-profit organisations aimed at fighting the stigma and misinformation associated with depression.
Another thing which seemed to rile me during this entire episode (notwithstanding the sickening TV coverage of the tragedy), was comments made to the effect that Uday Kiran was a "coward" who "ran away from problems". I consider this not only insulting to the memory of Uday Kiran, but also a reason why diagnosed with depression, suffer in silence. We may never understand what drove a 33 year old young man to suicide, but the least we can do, is to ensure our friends, family and acquaintances always know they have access to qualified support services in the case of mental illness.
NOTE: For further information on depression and other mental illnesses please visit www.beyondblue.com.au
As an aficionado of Telugu films, I had been impressed with Uday's early movies. His movies were romantic-action capers, with an element of college/university life thrown in. The TFI performs as a kind of ogliarchy according to news articles, no different to other film industries worldwide, where family members of illustrious actors of the years past, control the "shots" (no pun intended). Thus a young commerce graduate making it big without a "Godfather" was seen by many as a welcome change and his movies were awaited with excitement. Added to this, were three successive hits, and soon he was the second-youngest winner of India's National Film Award for Best Actor, with only Kamal Hassan an acting powerhouse of South India. One of his movies "Nuvvu Nenu", meaning "You and I" still remains a personal favourite of mine, with it's dialogues, screenplay and music (one can listen to a song which rocked the charts that year, titled "Gajuvaka Pilla", "The lass from Gajuvaka [a town in Andhra Pradesh]" here) It soon became apparent that this young actor was heading into the big leagues, when a personal setback and some would say poor choices of movies took a toll. With hindsight being 20/20 with clear skies, one could have argued that had he chosen to, for lack of a better word, "diversify", he would be able to hedge his risks and even if he couldn't regain the stardom at the start of his career, he could have still been around. Howevever, I digress.
My thoughts aren't about what Uday Kiran could/should/would have done. I found it deeply tragic that a young man, with immense potential, who had appeared to put the past behind him, felt so alone, so helpless, that he saw no other way out than to end his life. Not having been diagnosed with depression, I am in no way qualified to even proffer any kind of advice how to deal with it. Indeed, a good friend of mine, a classmate and now colleague at work sent me this picture below, which I found quite apt. It shows scenarios where the advice given to those depressed is given to those suffering from other illnesses:
Although not having suffered depression, I was exposed to it during my formative years when a family member had a bout of depression. She is the most toughest member of the family mentally and while I did not realise it then, time, research and public knowledge has made me wise to the fact depression, like other illnesses knows no age, no gender and no barriers. It affects all without fear or fervour. At the time, the family member sought refuge in family friends, one of whom was a doctor. I believe what got her through was this close circle of friends and her unwavering faith in spirituality. However, this isn't a treatment for everyone and I still believe it is the responsibility of anyone who knows people suffering from depression to approach qualified help. When close family friends confide in the fact that they were "feeling down every day", "not wanting to wake up and go to work", "not wanting to talk to anyone", it suggests something more than just "Monday morning blues"; something that requires professional assistance. I consider myself fortunate to be there for those who wanted to help. Indeed my (finite) knowledge of depression comes only from the fact sheets of not-for-profit organisations aimed at fighting the stigma and misinformation associated with depression.
Another thing which seemed to rile me during this entire episode (notwithstanding the sickening TV coverage of the tragedy), was comments made to the effect that Uday Kiran was a "coward" who "ran away from problems". I consider this not only insulting to the memory of Uday Kiran, but also a reason why diagnosed with depression, suffer in silence. We may never understand what drove a 33 year old young man to suicide, but the least we can do, is to ensure our friends, family and acquaintances always know they have access to qualified support services in the case of mental illness.
NOTE: For further information on depression and other mental illnesses please visit www.beyondblue.com.au