A Daughter's story:

​

My name is Herjoat Thind.

I’m a female. I’m 22. I’m a university student.

When my Mom was 22,

She was a young bride

New to Canada,

New to the language and culture.

So basically new to a lot of things.

Leaving behind her own dreams to sacrifice and establish new ones in Canada.

She would welcome a lot of events, people and things into her life.

Which also included her interactions with loneliness

And of course, depression.

When my mom to Canada, it was in the late 80’s, it was just her and my dad. I wasn’t in the

picture until 9 years later and another 14 for my younger brother. That’s where the issue came

in with depression. You see the town I’m from in rural Alberta had a few immigrants, very few

Punjabis. With no family in Canada, Mom felt very isolated, being from a large family that

included her parents, older brother and two older sisters. She was alone.

I remembering trying to write a journal entry for a presentation and thinking what Mom must

have thought being alone in Canada for the first time during the winter.

“Canada ch kini thand ae” (It’s so cold in Canada. Why didn’t anyone tell me?) I miss my family

a lot, my mother was right, there would be a time in the future where we, my siblings and I

would miss each other. “Ik duje di shakal dekhan nu bhi taras jaoge (you will long to see each

others’ faces) but for now I will fall asleep with their memories in my mind, where they are safe.

Never to be disturbed. Where they were just mine and only mine.

Fast forward to 1993,

Mom’s first visit to Punjab after going to Canada.

She was childless but very healthy, she had put on a lot of weight.

People were surprised as she had left so thin, plain faced.

Once researching online, I found a study from America that linked South Asian women and

immigrant to self silencing and depression, this still exists. Many of these women like my mother

either experienced cases of depression or anxiety. Many fell prey to domestic violence and

some unfortunately, committed suicide as they had no help, looked for help or felt like a burden.

You think going back to Punjab would have helped...

Enhi motti te ehde koi bacha ni? (So fat but no child)

The constant questions on why she was childless yet obese hurt more to listen to, Mom recalls,.

Her father, my grandfather became curious as to what the problem was.

“Are you not happy in Canada? What more could you possibly want? Child, you have a great

home in Canada.” Back in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s, immigration was thought of very highly, Mom

was always told how lucky she was to marry and migrate to Canada. But what about her

loneliness? The concept of often mental illness was linked to “nazar or toona”. Meaning the

illness only occurred due to having someone cast an evil eye on the individual resulting in the

individual being in distress. Rather than seeing treatment, women often were taken to Babas or

given bogus instructions to go through practices to get rid of the “evil eye.”

It wasn’t until 1996 when my mother’s life really changed.

I entered the world in February of 1995.

After 9 years of marriage,

My parents were still together and celebrated my Lohri back in Punjab.

I remember being told as I got older that a lot of the women who passed comments on my

mother about her obesity were the same ones who waited turns to pick me up and pose for

photos.

As the years go on, I hope to hear more Immigrant women come forward with their tales. I feel

we as a Punjabi community have never been exposed to cases of depression and anxiety from

our elder generation. We dismiss these cases as being told “that times have changed” or “it was

just a bad time in my life”. Many people also say it is “normal in the community because women

are too emotional about leaving their homes therefore fall into sadness” or “she is too spoiled

and demands attention.”

I however disagree.

I believe there are issues.

Mental issues and no needs to suffer in silence.

It’s unnecessary.