Dear Deepika,

I’ve known you from seeing you on-screen for almost 10 years now. I recall when I saw you debut in the masala-filled splashy Bollywood musical of "Om Shanti Om," paired with Shahrukh Khan--you were like a whiff of fresh air for me. The metaphysical abstractions, the poise, and the epitomization of what is the lavish spectacle of acting were all aspects you brought to Indian cinema. And dare I mention the killer dimples. You swooned away hearts of men--and need I say women--all across the world and never failed to intrigue your audience with roles you assumed. After "Om Shanti Om," I remember you had a period of experimentation with different movies. When you did the eye-invigorating hit "Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani," I was truly convinced I wanted to be Naina Talwar. For days, I hummed to tunes of Ram-Leela, danced to playful beats of Tamasha, and spun in elegance to the taal of Mastani. Deepika, you’re unstoppable: like the force of nature. You’re dynamic and persistent, constantly loud and silent. You carry and hold yourself to standards unimaginable. And I have always kept you as one of my prime role models. But most importantly, Deepika, the thing I admire most about you is that you’re not afraid to admit.

Admit your flaws, mistakes, imperfections. Admit that sometimes, relationships aren’t feasible and life just goes on. Admit that one can seem to have a perfect life to outsiders but in reality, it is just hell on repeat. Admit that you aren’t afraid to do a movie like Finding Fanny because it's an oddball, even though you explicitly know that it’s not a people-pleaser. Admit that everyone has baggage, including a star like yourself, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re not afraid to stand by making a #MyChoice endorsement despite knowing the negative comments you will receive because those are the values that you have placed your faith in. And maybe you are afraid. But...you did admit. And that’s changed my life.

In January of 2015, you released an interview in which you opened up about your vicious battle with depression and launched your own non-profit, "Live Love Laugh," through which you hope to de-stigmatize the traditional misconceptions about mental health. When asked about why people may have difficulty talking about depression, you mentioned, “A lot of times it's not just the person who is suffering. There are a lot of people who are ready and willing to take that help, but it's the immediate family and friends around who sort of suppress them and say, 'No, no, you can't go to the doctor because nobody does this, what are other people gonna say.'"(NDTV). The awareness you created was enough for me to realize, a couple months afterwards, that I was slipping fast into a black hole. My overwhelming emotions encompassed uncertainty and a shadow of zero control choked my view of the shore. For me, it didn’t start suddenly. It was not waking up one day and just having a burst of hopelessness in the pit of my stomach. It was a gradual process that consumed me: a cancer of my soul. It wasn’t sadness nor my displeasure with the course my life had been taking. I had everything going for me: college was a fresh chapter in my life, I had gotten multiple work opportunities within the hospitals and research facilities I wanted to, my grades were golden, and my lovely family never denied me any care and support. Yet, how could I explain to my parents why I was crying? I didn’t know myself. The harmless paper cut had instantaneously morphed into life-threatening sepsis.

When you have symptoms that can be diagnosed as cardiac arrest, there is always guaranteed help for you. No one will judge, because it’s assumed to be a physical condition in which you have no control over; it’s sudden and it’s dangerous. But in the society I live in--particularly the Indian cultural aspect--it is assumed that mental illness was a “made-up excuse” for sadness and it had been one that was self-inflicted. The hardest part for me was to understand the motivation behind my crying and learn communication with myself and my emotional needs. I found myself lacking honesty at all times and hadn’t come to terms on what I was going through. Frankly, more than others, I was finding it difficult that it was “okay not to be okay." I knew that knots were tangled, but I was in denial myself. How could this happen to me? Soon after, when I became less resistant and more open to the care I needed, I started to regain my lost confidence and constructing my life anew. It didn't happen overnight or over a couple weeks. It took time. Months even. But one day, I found myself again. Refreshed and ready to start off on a good leg. You helped me reach that.

Deepika, I could go on forever about the ways you emboldened me and urged me to tread through the currents of the tsunamis and fight the opportunity South Asian community had drilled into my mind. However today, all I can do is reach out and give my sincere gratitude. Thank you for helping me realize that depression is not sensitive to socioeconomic status, fame, or time. It can happen to anyone, anytime, and in any place. And it’s perfectly normal and can be reversed. Thank you for opening up to the public about your experience because if you hadn’t done it, I wouldn’t have the confidence and willingness to admit that I needed extra support in my life. Lastly, Deepika, thank you for being the woman I will always look up to. You changed my life. You saved me.

Love always,

Tanisha

Author's Supplemental Note:

In both the non-Western and Western worlds, there is an ongoing struggle of the acceptance of depression, and particularly mental illnesses as legitimate clinical disorders. Many never express their internal combats in fear of rejection or demeaning from their respective societies. Suppressions of such extreme feelings often lead to self-harm, or even worse, suicide. While more developed countries like the United States raise awareness through mental health campaigns, the topic still remains untouched in societies within the South Asian realm. In fact, it has now become the norm for every one in five men and women to be suffering from depression. Due to the ongoing stigma surrounding suicide and depression, people often avoid the subject. Depression is so easily brushed off the shoulder by those who believe that it is in their power to cast judgments regarding mental illnesses. Educate the ignorance and apathy. We have not created generations of machines and robots but a youth that is promising. The human species is so confusing to me. How can you say we have advanced as a society when idiocy still haunts the streets? You can create the best of cars and design the fanciest watches, but when there are no more people in the world, when we have all hung ourselves on the ceiling fan of rigorous conventions and traditional thoughts, when there is no longer humanity present but judgment and pity--that is the day we have gone back to our primitive days. I say: Get up. Take a stand. Fight against societal norms. Because “what will they say” killed more dreams than failure ever will. Be bright, be you.