Real Stories. True Healing Zorba Transformations.

An English class essay that won the top prize for Akshay P., Professor, Royal English – 9/10/2019.

Akshay: “My hands trembled, fumbling with the laces as I tried to tie my shoes. I struggled to get to my feet and looked over at my friend Blake. His dark, dreary eyes met mine for a second, and then both of us looked away, acknowledging the agony we felt while, deep down, realizing that it was what our lives had become. I glanced through the window in the room. To most people, the sight would have been pleasant. Sunlight had begun to trickle through the tall redwood trees. Little swallows chirped their morning song. And the sky was slowly shifting to a light blue colour. But through my eyes, the outside world looked gloomy and grey, with a sense of impending doom.”

“I didn’t want to think about my day. I turned to a wooden desk cluttered with unfinished artwork next to Blake’s bed, desperately searching for the bag or any trace of the substance that had kept us up all night. “There’s none left. I already checked,” Blake said in a defeated tone as he hastily packed a water pipe, “Just hit this. You’ll feel better.” I grabbed it from his pale hands, knowing it wouldn’t make things much better. But at least it meant I could eat. After I was high enough to function a little, I stumbled out of his room and into the bathroom.” – “In the mirror above the basin, I saw the same person I’ve seen every Saturday morning of every week for the past year. He had dark brown skin, and his shiny black hair was a jungle. His eyes were droopy and red. The white outfit he wore was covered with dirt stains. His shirt collar was stretched from a fight he had the night before. His face hung in shame as he stared at the dried blood caked on his upper lips, trailing out of his nose. This man was the same person the week before that reassured me that this same situation wouldn’t happen again. As I washed my face and walked out of the house, I wondered how it was going to all end. A familiar creeping anxiety overcame me again. As I clutched my heart; feeling as if someone slowly slid a knife through it. Months went by, and I was getting worse. Hope was lost.”

“I no longer told myself that things would change; I couldn’t remember how it even started. As another night ended, I stepped out of Blake’s jeep and walked into my two-story countryside house. I had no words to reassure my mother as she opened the door to my knocking. No more excuses about why I was showing up home at three in the morning. “It’s okay, mom. I’m fine, just leave me alone,” I said to her worried face, feeling nothing at all for her as I shuffled up the stairs and closed my room door behind me. Pain set in as the high wore off, as if I had reached the peak of my rollercoaster ride, and it began to plummet straight into hell. Shaking violently, I sat down by my bedside, produced a handful of assorted anti-anxiety pills from my white jean pocket, and in one swift movement, took them all, instantly drifting into sleep. I prayed that the morning would never come, an end to the horror movie that was my life. I thought if maybe I had a second chance at life, things would have been different, but it was an impossible fantasy.

The next morning, my eyes slowly opened. To my unfortunate surprise, I had lived. I reached under my pillow immediately for my vaporizer, put my lips to it and hit it hard. My body won the battle through the night, but my soul didn’t. My mattress and turquoise bed sheets were covered

with cold sweat. I felt lifeless, like a zombie. I groggily peered around the room. My white, blue striped football jersey hung on the wall, along with dusty baseball trophies and frames for my accomplishments, including three years in a row of first places for writing showcases and a diploma for graduating high school at sixteen. I felt like such a disappointment. All the wall was missing now was a death certificate and a plaque for the worst drug addict alive, I thought.”

“I jolted when my mother touched my arm. I didn’t notice her there the entire time. She was sitting on the blue carpet next to the bed, tears pouring from her eyes. “Look what you’re doing to yourself, Akshay,” she whispered in sorrow. “I know, mom,” I managed to say through my parched lips. I actually didn’t know. I really didn’t want to stop, either. I didn’t know how to. But she knew. She asked, “Do you want to keep on dying, or do you want to live?”A week later, I stood in line, passport in hand, ready to board a flight to Mumbai. I felt like my mom had hatched the best idea ever. All I needed was a vacation, and I had everything I needed. I passed out before the plane took off, conformably content: there was a stash of weed in my luggage, and a week’s worth of Xanax supply in my pocket.”

“Everything was a blur after that, until one evening. I arrived at a tall tan bungalow with three floors in a suburban area of Pune. It was surrounded by a red brick wall, had a bright green freshly mowed front lawn and a rose garden. My first thought was that I was visiting a wealthy family friend of my mom’s. I went inside and sat in a furnished living room in front of a casually dressed, light-skinned man with a black beard. “Hello, Akshay. My name is Siddharth. I heard you have a problem. Is that right?” He asked in a light tone as he pushed his glasses up with his index finger. I panicked; I realized I was in rehab. The last place on earth I wanted to be. “I don’t have a problem,” I started to shout, “Mom, what the fuck? I don’t belong here. I can stop on my own. I promise!”

Overwhelmed with anxiety, I left the room and went outside to the street, where dogs started following me as I ran. I realized how elaborate my Mother’s trap was. She made sure I didn’t have my wallet, kept my passport, and didn’t let me see my plane tickets, which ended up being a one-way trip. I felt like running far away, but I was in the middle of India. I had nowhere to go. I couldn’t handle the pressure of anxiety anymore. I stopped, took out the bag of pills and looked at them. A sad, familiar song lyric came into my mind. They told me they wouldn’t hurt me. They told me not to worry. But that’s what I get for talking to the pills…no benefits.”

“I stumbled back to the rehab and fainted on the way inside, tears flowing down my face.”

Akshay: “Four months later, I came thundering down the bungalow stairs in a yellow shirt, red shorts and flip-flops. “Good morning Siddharth. Good morning Sandy. Hey Raj. What’s up, Rags!” I said with beaming enthusiasm. It was another day in paradise. We all joined our hands and prayed, “God grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

“Afterwards, I sat down with my legs crossed outside under a palm tree with a hot cup of chai and lit a cigarette. I only had one day left at the rehab. And I wished that I could never leave. I thought about all that had happened. All the incredible memories. Making friends from

all over India who were my age. Sneaking off at night, buying weed from a street vendor and getting caught. Going to the theatre every weekend and watching Bollywood movies. Riding around on scooters and drinking freshly made sugar cane juice. Smoking cigarettes at night on top of a mountain looking at the twinkling city lights. Going on road trips and singing along to Green Day. Going to the gym every day and gaining thirty pounds of muscle. Going out to clubs. Meeting a beautiful Indian girl and eventually falling in love with her. I had the best moments of my entire life! I realized how dumb I was to be weeping and being hateful for weeks after my mom left me.

Thanks to her, my life now had meaning again.”

“Painful memories come back into my head again and again of when I was self-destructing. Being in juvenile hall, in jail, getting kicked out of my house and school. And worst of all, utterly demoralizing my soul. But I no longer have to do any of that anymore. It’s a relief beyond measure. The change I went through in the rehab was astonishing. But I would have never wished that life of using drugs upon anyone. I think of Blake a lot, and my eyes always water. It’s been almost three months since he overdosed and died in his bed. It could have easily been me. I wipe my eyes and feel intensely grateful every day that I have a second chance.”

From the essay, Second Chances.

 Today is my one year sober; yes me sheel dam a girl who couldn’t live without alcohol for a min is 365 days sober!!! I did it!!!

At first a sober life seemed unnatural. I wondered what life could possibly be like without ever taking a drink, but the longer I was in it, the more natural this way of life seemed.i thought to myself that I’ve been kind to ppl who probably don’t deserve it, I’ve fought some battles that weren’t mine to begin with. I’ve shown up for those who dint see me for me. But then I thought enough I have to be kind to every part of me, to fight and survive even if I’m lonely, to show up for myself without overanalyzing it. One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that I need to stay honest, open-minded, and willing. When I have these three in my mind every day, I will be able to not only stay sober but continue on my recovery path and experience blessings beyond my wildest dreams. As difficult as it may be we have to reach a point where we let go of the burdens of our experiences and share the beauty of the lessons they left behind. today I feel nothing but gratitude. A sense of self-awareness I have never felt before. In one year I’ve learned more about me than in the 36 years of living. What I’ve learned in one year sober is I am not my past, my mistakes, and my past addiction. I’m whom I choose to be today, in this very moment.

A year ago today, I had entered this beautiful place called zorba arguing with Sid sir for a drink. And also next day I was supposed to attend my 1st sober party at zorba. Before which I had never attended a party being sober. So I felt nervous anxiety hit me, I needed my drink. I dint know how I would survive without a drink that too in a party. That’s where my higher power tested me for the first time. When I entered this place I’d lost  love, my job my family everything because of my addiction, and I was ashamed and embarrassed.i had no purpose of living and also felt lost with no purpose or sense of direction. But just one little tiny hope that mayb just mayb this will work.

Today every aspect of my life is amazing, like I am walking in a dream. I see the world with different eyes. Eyes that are clear and filled with hope and compassion.Life is still not perfect and will never be but the program has taught me to deal with it in a different way.

Sobriety does not fix everything but it allows me to have a clear mind so I could fix my life. The first few weeks into sobriety my emotions were up and down. Happy, Sad, Hopeful, defeated, angry, confused, blissful, inspired, sobriety allowed me to feel life on life terms.

The list of gifts sobriety has brought into my life are endless.

My disease centered in my mind creating the body craving. I had to become aware of the mind voice. Once I was able to separate the voice from my True self, I could stop the voice dead in its tracks. The voice would speak to me like just have one more drink, The voice would bring up my past; you had a bad marriage you should be angry, maybe he’s cheating on you, he has left u so lonely, emotionally physically and mentally. U don’t deserve this u came all the way from India to US to be with him. U should  die etc etc.

The voice sounded like me, it knew what to say to get me to the next drink.

I’m stronger than the voice today because I’m aware of my true-self.

Everyday since this last year I wake up happy, aware, with purpose; fire in my heart wanting to be a better me. Still working on love for myself and compassion for others. Staying open to learning new things.

I want to say thank you to all zorba faculty … If not for ull sheel would have been dead by now. Thank u for giving me my beautiful life back to me.There are no words enough to express my gratitude..

Thank u Sid sir and ranjita ma’am for this inspiring and beautiful place called zorba which i call my 2nd home.

Sobriety brings dreams that seemed unimaginable.

I would like to end this with a quote which is very close to my heart

“I chose sober because I wanted a sober life, and I stay sober because I got one”.

 Dear Siddharth ,

Today marks 3 years of sobriety for me — a milestone I couldn’t have reached without your unwavering support, guidance, and belief in me when I struggled to believe in myself.

I still remember the early days — the confusion, the fear, the inner battles. Through every one-on-one, every tough conversation, and every moment of silence you held space for, you helped me not just stay sober but learn how to live with purpose and dignity again.

You didn’t just guide me through recovery — you helped me rediscover who I am.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for being part of my journey, for never giving up on me, and for showing me that healing is possible. This milestone is as much yours as it is mine.

With deep gratitude,

Abhishek K.

I was initially very skeptical to make this choice of going to a wellness center and putting my career on hold, yet the management team alongwith the staffs became my newly found family members in no time. With the grace of God and the direction to having a  drug free life provided by my counsellors, I realized how I ended up finding myself another home, perfectly designed to teach me everything thats required to grow in post addiction life. The place offers everything that one needs or can even imagine to build a strong physical, mental and emotional health while conquering their battle with addiction (or other issues). From lifting dumbells in gym, to diving in pool, weekend trecks, music room (for the artists) , pickleball court, evening horse ride and other indoor games (pool table/chess/ludo/uno/etc) , you have all the extra curriculars to re-bulid yourself alongside the main recovery program (personal counselling, group input session, meditation, movie session, etc). Having parties and celebrations with the karoke singing and dancing around with fellow peers, just makes you realise that life is much better without using drugs/alcohol/depression to fill the emptiness or the pain inside us. For someone like me who’s having a business or is a working professional, there’s fast Internet speed along with office space and printers, you will always have the benefit of working from home alongside your recovery process. ‎