Coffee Mourning by Anand Pattni

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Croissant customers with busy faces and skinny latte voices, pourin over choices.. all the noise is darling and delightful – a welcome distraction from the frightful girl who’s sat, on the wrong side of that chair, pursed lips n’ a long downward glare.

Shit ain’t fair..

So there it sits, like a sad omen.. her young mind seems stolen an this coffee mournin’ has broken – but not like the first dawn.  Cracked words are spoken through thirsty emotions awoken from the deep in her soul.  The sorry little doll.. she’s scarcely slept-at-all in days and she wears those unkempt braids like a stranded veil to conceal a face that’s pale with fear.

Oh dear..

You can hear the strain as she struggles to explain but the noise in her brain jus’ won’t clear and the silent smears n’ violent sneers in her inner ears career like tyrants n’ mutineers who persevere til her tears run dry.. but my oh my, how they cry inside to try a mind that stands accused of screwin’ loose an’ self-abuse.

“oh mama, they say I’m a recluse who’s deep in sane.. they say I’m seduced by a mistruth seepin through these veins.. but these creepy purple reins keep a purple reign over my brain and it stains my whole worldview with a hurtful hue.. so wot the bleep bleep has a girl gotta do ta renew the claim on the ‘I’ in her name when this shit won’t quit and it don’t seem like it wants-ta be tamed.  Mama, I’m drained, I’m ashamed, I’m lame.”

Poor dame..

it’s an arcane fear and mama can’t steal it away from her little dear, so she clears the hair an’ brings a warm hand to the cold of her baby’s stare.. it’s sidewise an’ bare tho intensely aware so mama tries harder to share..

there there..

but it’s tough goin’ an’ terribly rough knowin’ her care just can’t compare with the despair in her baby’s eyes.  She sighs.. ”those eyes are the sun an’ moon in my skies.. we’ll soon get them to rise so don’t you fret little baby.  Maybe the cries of an old soul can unravel a mind when they can’t find the light of day. Maybe they travel by way of a darkish kinda night.. i dunno how right that might be but I ain’t quite ready ta leave your unsteady fate in the hands of a slightly – so we’re gonna negotiate, most politely, while we wait on faith and time.”

It’s already late and mama bears in mind how friends have long since left her baby behind to live carefree while she stares at the wall like it’s a callin’ to peace.  But the sufferin’ won’t cease and mama finally concedes.. her baby needs more healin’ and maybe it’s time for revealin’ the story of papa’s ordeal..

“He was a real dapper dan who proper-ran with the scene, know wot I mean.. they called him papa lean cos he rolled like the stones, but one day he came home with his mind kinda blown.  It was the unknown (to me) so we went to see the man from psychiatry – who quietly insisted that we enlisted papa for a spell in their mental dwell.

It was a gentle sell but they jus’ took his unwell, booked it into another hell, and there my lifelong lover fell even further.  I even yelled at him to recover but the brother soon became the unsame after they claimed the thoughts in his head were voices, and before we knew what a choice is, they were poised with a chemical lobotomy.. it really got to me as I watched helplessly while he died inside.

How I cried and tried but they exorcised the light from his eyes and ensured his demise with a score of size four pills that choked his will and stoked his ill until all hope was nope on a rope of dope.  It was hard to cope but I finally rose to try n’ expose those pseudo-scientists as trial-in-error therapists whose style of terror is a cold war on the human condition.. witch is a soulless ambition so I made it my mission to complain.  But doctor’s Pain and Disable only came to the table to sedate the debate and dicktate an ill-fated vision of mentalism that was written by liars in a higher state of psychosis.

I couldn’t oppose this, cos they quickly closed with ‘yo sis, go kiss my big fat diag-no-sis’..  and I know this sounds like a sweep, but the system was made to assist ‘em, and even tho I pissed ‘em off, their heads were swayed by a system that paid when pushermen in pharma-suit-icals trade harms with the beautiful mind. But this time the farm won’t find another funny to make ‘em money cos you and me honey, will do just fine..  we’ll take the other line and recover with mother nature cos she wont estrange-yer while we change the blue and reframe that view..

Oh Little mew.. its a true shame to go through so much at such a tender age, and this nascent stage aint easy so please be patient my little sweet-pea and I’ll keep thee a promise that from this woe, you’ll grow with a beauty that’s rare to see.. dont despair, I swear it’s a natural state of affairs that flares up like a spiritual crisis.. there’s an holistic treatise but yer can’t really beat this or cheat this, yer have-ta treat this like a life trial. It forces a new life style towards self-prosperity, toward the person you were meant to be.

But you can depend on me, cos I can see you ain’t crazy.. and if life seems too hazy, then hush sweet baby, don’t you cry for a word.. cos mama’s gonna buy you time to be heard

and if that time don’t put yer mind at rest, then mama’s gonna find a way to ease the stress.. we’ll pray us some peace and bless

and if those prayers don’t help you be, then mama’s gonna buy you a herbal tree

and if that herbal tree doesn’t grow you a remedy, then mama’s gonna plant a communi-tree

and if that communi-tree doesn’t flower, then mama’s gonna heal you with yoga power

and if that yoga doesn’t soothe the mind, then mama’s gonna look for a miracle of a lyrical kind

and if that lyrical doesn’t help you creed, then hush little baby don’t you worry.. we won’t hurry, mama’s gonna be here for whatever you need

and if those needs seem so far away, then mama’s gonna keep you busy in the day

and if the day doesn’t keep your mind flowing, then mama’s gonna keep you growing

and if that knowing doesn’t feed the heart, then mama’s gonna help you art, not war

and if the art doesn’t open a door, then mama’s still gonna be there to help you more

and if that help ever weighs too heavily, then mama’s gonna sing you a melody

and if that melody doesn’t lighten the mood, then mama’s gonna get you cookin’ soul-food

and if that food doesn’t bless, then mama’s gonna give you time to rest

So hush little baby don’t you cry for a word, cos mama’s gonna help you sing like a bird in Spring.. and if your song feels like it’s lonely just begun, then we’ll steal a little fun, take a run in the park, soak in the sun, and dine with the moon.. and you’ll soon see.. In light and shade we’re made to be, reasons and seasons bright and fade, but there is always beauty in sight, for sure, and perhaps on those darker nights, even more.”

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MITUK’s mission is to serve as a catalyst for fundamentally re-thinking theory and practice in the field of mental health in the UK, and promoting positive change. We believe that the current diagnostically-based paradigm of care has comprehensively failed, and that the future lies in non-medical alternatives which explicitly acknowledge the causal role of social and relational conflicts, abuses, adversities and injustices.