An Email to a Hollywood Star - dated 3rd August 2022

We all appreciate the value of creativity. Good storytelling can become a very worthwhile asset. This is the originator of The Scientist and When Charlie Met Harry amongst others. And I have been failed by the very people that were supposed to nurture my growth. Please hear me out. This is not a threat but a plea.

I appreciate that I am underwhelmingly working class. I also know I am not your usual. But, let me give you some insight into my life.  I come from an unusual background. My mother is from East Africa and married my Indian father in 1977 in Kenya. On August 8th 1980, my mother gave birth to a baby boy in a London Hospital. She named him Harsheed. He was quiet and reflective, but quickly became known as the family genius. By the age of two, he could read the Times out loud and language quickly became his most trusted friend.

My early childhood was also spent dodging my mother’s rolling pin. On the hint of attack, my sister and I would quickly run to the bathroom and lock ourselves inside. It was more ‘No man left behind’ than ‘Every man for themselves.’ Even from a young age, I harboured an interest in Hindu mythology and remember watching Indian epics on TV with my grandparents for much of my early life. Somehow the teachings became strongly entangled with my own thinking and persona. 

Now, I was always a good pupil. I was madly obsessive about my work. I recall at the age of ten coming home from school and employing the use of my encyclopedia to rewrite my notes. I even redrew the diagrams making them even more detailed. You could call me a perfectionist. I would just refer to it as pride in my work.

At eleven, on the eve of my parents’ divorce, we moved back to Greater London. I started to miss my old school but I never admitted it to anybody. Eventually, I began studying at a similar school where I was happier. But nonetheless, our lives were still tough. From 1993 to 1998, my family had no home. We had to turn to the social service system to be housed. We were pinged from pillar to post for five years.  And as you may suspect, no one likes a council tenant. Fortunately, in 1998, my Uncle helped my mother buy us a home of our own.  

By 21, I had been diagnosed with a severe and enduring mental illness.  The medications I was taking have gradually taken a toll on my body and I have gone from a healthy 100lbs to 160lbs.  And the illness gradually took a toll on my reputation. Since then, I have had a pretty mediocre academic education and an even worse career in Finance. I slowly found myself becoming alienated due to a lack of real appreciation for what I was capable of. 

This all came to a head after fifteen years of struggle, and in October 2015 I ran away from home. I was desperate to find an old friend and I was convinced that my thoughts of her would make her materialise.  Later that day, I was arrested in South Kensington after getting into a dispute with a stranger and the visiting Police Officers. As I was known to Mental Health, I was taken directly to a hospital. Hospital was not a problem. But after another arrest and repeated ambulance visits, I was sectioned under the Mental Health act. I spent a massive and wholly undeserved seventeen months in that Psychiatric Ward. And I suffered. When I was finally released in February 2017, I got home and immediately opened my laptop. I quickly penned 32 pages of The Scientist. In one sitting.

But, things were still not okay. Within two weeks of discharge, I had taken my first overdose. Since then, I have been living in care in London. My home is shared between eight previous hospital patients each with differing needs and treatments and I get along with them all swimmingly.  I have completed a few scripts independently one of them being The Scientist. It is actually a beautiful piece.  All whilst being another notch on the hospital bed post of my community mental health team. Yes, I may have been screwed by the system, but I try to remain as positive about life as I can.

Currently, I have about $250 in my account. I was volunteering part-time for a local, grassroots charity, because my medical history limits the type of work I can do, but it didn't work out due to my difficulties. I have lots of friends and a wonderful family. My Mum is a Carer who is very popular with the local residents, especially the Afro-Caribbean community. My Dad is still in my life but he now has other responsibilities. I also often turn to my extended family. I come from a long line of perennial underachievers with enormous hearts.

A website showcasing my work is up, www.************.com.  I just need re-assurances that I am being listened to and I will send you a copy of the finished THE SCIENTIST, which is even more beautiful.  Then I will send you a solution.  Courtesy of the channel that is currently helping me and my crew solve this problem.  That's where I got this email address from.

Yes, this is channeling.

I don't ask for much.  I just want to be able to support the family that's all.  We have little that is worthy of our ability.

Best Regards

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