Tired of being Good? Choose Bad or Better or Both

Life has an uncanny way of painting your days with bright yellow out of nowhere and then suddenly washing it off with cold blue as well. But it is more contextual to say that people around you have that ability rather than life per se. Playing a worldly human being in this uncoordinated colour game is an enormous burden sometimes. You find yourself in whirlpools of murky emotions, tornadoes of pregnant egos and rifts of the heart and mind. This ability to experience and undergo complex and marvellous neuron activity is overwhelming to say the least. The pressure of being a human being really gets to you.

Being under the pump, I find the option of becoming animal like very tempting. No complex mental and emotional hassles. Survival is the only aim. No worries of tolerance, trust, expectations, moral high grounds, heart break, and all the strings attached with the over active amygdala and hypothalamus of the human brain.  Living only primal and basal instincts could be a relief. I clearly remember, as an offended teenager I often wanted to be a bird and fly away, I even thought of becoming a blade of grass or a chair who doesn’t feel a thing. Just exists. Simplistic and sorted. However, it never happened. And so here I am, two decades hence, and I still wish to be a straw of grass at times. Everybody wishes so at some moments.

Co-existence as emotionally and mentally stimulant species is tremendously challenging. Some days it totally exhausts you to be good. You know how it works, because we have intellect and a sense of right and wrong, we usually try to choose the higher response, also a response which pleases others, which does not exacerbate the chasms, which contains the situation from going bad to worse and so on. Then one day you don’t have the energy to exert or put in any effort for anybody’s sake. You are done being good. For that day you want others to please you, to take care of you and show with the slightest gesture that you matter. You almost revel in being bad, not exactly nasty, more like not giving a heck about what others think. You have spared them enough thought, benefit and chance. It might be important to put yourself first now. It’s satisfying to lash out, growl with invectives and then probably even slump down with tears. It is healthy to be bad sometimes.

But being bad is a temporary and only half a solution; it gratifies but doesn’t quieten the endless chatter in the mind. And becoming a bird or grass in not even an option. So the only way out would be to step up from being good or bad. You need to be better at your game, more stoic than saintly. Now being better is really about dealing with yourself rather than people in the most offensive and frustrating situations. Here, the higher response comes effortlessly and naturally to you, letting go of the ego doesn’t scrunch you, you can liberate yourself from others hurts, and most importantly you learn to block generating or radiating any negativity towards others even those who pricked your heart in any way. But like all skills, it needs practice. Immense meditative practice.

At the core, as good, bad or better individuals we just want to be happy, but that kind of happy which is not very fickle or overly dependent on external stimuli including people.  Having said that, the very popular and longest study on human happiness published by the Harvard Institute, unequivocally and unambiguously states that people with long and healthy relationships are undeniably happier irrespective of everything else. Period.

People make you happy is the most straightforward inference of it. And you do pretty well as mere humans when wrapped in care, nourished with love, enveloped in joy and drowned in laughter with them. However, when tossed with indifference, broken down with hurt, lost in emotional shambles, cast down with disapproval and fatigued with mental disquiet, you need to step up the game. 

We can’t be birds or grass, and I genuinely resent that, so the only bet to deal with our lovely chaos is shuttling between good, bad and better. It needs effort but I guess it’s worth the trouble. I live by one ideal that life is too short and unpredictable to spend with grudged relationships.  It is so difficult to be with people but it is not easy to be without them. What matters is to tell them that they matter when they do whether you choose to play good, bad or better. 

SIKKIM DIARY # 1 – Soulful fling in Kewzing

All holidays are always fun. But some are fulfilling too. My recent one to Sikkim was one such beautiful amalgam. Everything about this trip was unusual for me. I wasn’t part of any planning, had no clue about the itinerary, didn’t care to know about the places we were visiting or the home-stays we were staying at, except that I felt certain of being an utter misfit in this very dedicated group of birders as co-travellers. But in hindsight, this absence of any agenda, information or expectation of the trip made it the most holistic holiday experience for me. Every day of this journey needs to be preserved in words apart from the pictures, but the stay in Kewzing alone warrants a dedicated travelogue of its own.

Kewzing in South Sikkim was our first destination and it welcomed us with a thunderous downpour. The real trip began with a bright and glorious sunrise to which I was not a witness. My day began with a warm and fuzzy morning, with the sip of Darjeeling tea and the taste of a pseudo solo trip, and both were refreshingly delicious. The birders including my husband had left and would leave early every morning to scourge any glimpse of the winged beauties.

The beautiful Bon Farmhouse Home-stay resonates with a very different chirp apart from all the Flycatchers and Barwings surrounding it. And that is of the little boisterous soul of Temposhering, all of five years, this kiddo can be your trusted guide and wonderful companion. I felt an instant affinity to him and I think he has some really happy vibe. He was so eager to take me around that him and I wasted no more time, got dressed and ready for the neighbourhood monastery. Perched on a quiet bend was this quaint and serene monastery and Tempo showed me every bit of it with native authority. He even explained the ritual of praying, bowing down three times, which objects to touch with sanctity and which not to. We lingered for a while talking to young monks, clicking pictures with them and just having a laugh.

The lovely Bon Farmhouse

The quaint monastery

On the way down, Tempo warned me in a hush, “There’s a dog there, so walk lightly or else we’ll be pounced at”. We exchanged some whispers in the willows and he picked up a dried branch for our security. You can say he was my personal chaperon there. And what an amazing one! He took me downhill for another walk, pointing at flowers and butterflies, strolling through the meadows till the edge of the forest. No sooner did he see some gray clouds packing together, that he advised to return home. While this little boy’s energy and excitement is infectious, his mental receptiveness, keenness and sharpness totally bowled me over. For a five year old, he is incredible.

Pristine environment and a relaxed mind whet your appetite like nothing else. And we gorged on the freshest hand-picked ningro (wild ferns), nakima (wild orchids), squashes, tree tomatoes and other local lip smacking food right from the Bon farm. After a hearty meal, soaking in the languid mountain air surrounded by fresh moss-covered garden walls where pretty butterflies do their own flamenco to the songs of Blue whistling thrushes and Rufous-capped babblers is premium luxury. The stillness of mind which the movement of nature brings is magical. It’s the time when you sit down to admire the splendour of the microcosmic world in the larger and incredulous cosmic picture.

 As the sun dipped down, I went exploring the local market. Walking through the cobbled and curved paths I reached a little market square which was way too quiet to be called a market. Nevertheless, I trotted up and down, bought myself slippers, disappointedly asked around for some local thukpa and finally ended at the last block on the street. The name of that decrepit inn kind of caught my attention. “Hungry Jack”. It looked quite dingy and I almost turned back. But then I thought, come on if I wouldn’t step out of my usual self now, when else? And so I made myself comfortable in that shady country tavern all by myself. A couple of minutes later I was already mingling with a bunch of strangers, who looked pretty amused to see me there alone and a few minutes past we were cheering over a local drink. As frivolous as the evening seems, there are certain moments about a trip that you look back at and smile. A moment of being your uninhibited self, it reveals a bit about yourself that you have come of age in your own way.

   

Wooded Trail to quietitude 

My idea of a hill holiday has always been of going for walks with nothing in mind. And the next morning was just this. It is so liberating when there are no plans, no fear of missing out on anything and thus everything you come across is a windfall. Tempo, my friend, was at the door at six thirty, ready to take me around. I asked him to let me sleep in some extra and he agreed. After a couple of hours, we were outdoors, walking through the picturesque wooded trails where the sun beams came in slits,  wild flowers fenced the paths and misty clouds hid the distant peaks. We trekked to meet Tempo’s friends in the local basti, chatted with them and came prancing down to a tiny brook of fresh water. Splashing and splishing there, I almost felt childlike with no care in the world. Then out of nowhere he said, “You are very cute...and pretty. I like you.” With the widest smile I ruffled his hair and replied in earnest, “I like you too... Tempo.” The sheer simplicity and innocence of his compliment is what I will hold onto for the longest time.

With Tempo (centre blue t-shirt) and his freinds

Later in the day, as I sat by myself cohering my thoughts, I felt wrapped in a meditative moment. For that precise moment, nothing else mattered, the rest of the world with its trappings dissolved. My apprehensions to fit or misfit in a group of naturalists, outside my comfort zone, rested in peace. I could only think of Khalil Gibran’s lines, “...let there be spaces in your togetherness”. When my husband and I in particular and everyone else in general could be left to do or not do as they chose. The flow of life is so harmoniously simple when expectations are minimal.

And as I walked to the monastery that evening cocooned in joy, I sincerely felt that you need to have a divine grace in your life to experience even these random moments of unrestrained bliss. And I only feel humbled and grateful to live these instances of sheer personal growth in awareness. How I wish I can retain this ease of living as my Kewzing souvenir. 

Knock, knock who’s there? Myself. Myself who? Someone I found!

The latest goal I set for myself was to be human.  But I steadily wonder what is it about being human that is so mind numbingly conflicting? Of course it’s emotions. However, knowing the answer doesn’t imply you got yourself all sorted.

I feel like I am strolling through a fog where I might have chanced upon my individuality but it keeps getting lost intermittently in the mist. The fact that I live with other equal individuals makes it inevitable that my individuality not be compromised at times. There are most certainly moments in your life, where you are actually exhausted with the idea of pleasing others, looking for approvals and living upto generic and specific expectations. It doesn’t in the least mean that your life isn’t rocking enough. Mine is both, rocking and envious. Yet, there are floods of emotions which leave you in joyless droughts. Yeah they aren’t for eternity, thank God! But no matter how evanescent they are, these droughts make you feel like a complete douche bag. The spirit of life, of being human takes a sudden beating.

Certain people have profound effect upon your feelings and your state of mind and naturally influence both pleasant and unpleasant emotions. But what I also found is that art in any form, can have the most sensational and serendipitous effect on you. I recently heard the IndoSoul band at the Covelong Beach Festival and let me tell you these fellas are awesome.  By the time Karthik, the lead artist on his flute came to the closing rendition “Rejoicing”, I was tripping on their music alone. That last piece of music had me entranced. I could see parts of me floating over the clairvoyant wind.

Some sensitive, exciting, intimate, outrageous memories just surfaced revealing the person I am today. And I am ready to own it up. This is my present reality and it isn’t indelible and far from being ideal. I might find a different me as I see more of life. But for now I am good. I am not seeking for approval neither am I intending to be rebellious, nor am I smug or self centred. All I want is let me be who I am. However, in this moment of self limelight, I realized I still place relationships at centre stage in my life. And if there’s a hiccup in there, I would want to sit and sort it out. Because the unresolved baggage conveniently kills another perfectly happy day. Sitting prissy with ego is just not worth it. It is such a powerful feeling to be in charge of your life. To be in command of healthy emotions. And it is so much easier to have it when all your significant relationships are in harmony including with your kids, spouse, friends, parents, lovers or anybody who matters.

There is yet another kind of approval, I want to be liberated from. This is an external notion which simply frustrates me. A few weeks back, I had a couple of college going girls knock at my door. A lot of such college students keep coming these days as part of NGO campaigns for social causes. I am usually courteous and affable with them. I always hear them out patiently, congratulate them for their work, whether I donate every time or not is secondary. But that particular day, I was already irritable about something and her fawning tone only worsened it. So she started with her much rehearsed version of the noble cause and condition of the cancer suffering destitute women and children. I was distracted but I let her talk. She finished with her opening statements and with some mock interest in me asked, “Ma’am you must be working...engineer or management?” I curtly replied, “No, I am not working.” She smiled all the way trying to appease me, “But you look very professional.” With that I pretty much pounced upon her with my words, “You have barely known me for five minutes and I have spoken not more than four words to you, so what makes you think I am a professional?”

She was taken off guard least expecting my reaction. She realized I was more peeved than appeased by her professional remark, so she quickly added, “Ma’am it is upon educated women like you to take decisions and make a change. You just have to write a cheque in...” This further patronizing sickened me so much that I had no choice but to snap again. I said, “Look an educated woman like me will not write any cheque simply without verifying the facts of your cause. So you can leave your details with me, I will check over them, discuss it with my husband and if convinced will definitely call on you.” At this she was almost out of my house.

It was the ludicrous patronizing approach that annoyed me so much. As if calling me a professional would give me such an intellectual endorsement, make me jump with joy and sign a fat cheque right away. And this is not the first time I have heard these patent marketing lines from the donation seekers and others alike. If at all she meant that I came across as a smart and outgoing person to her, what makes people assume that I or anyone else should be a working professional? What is it with this hugely misplaced notion of associating sharpness, intelligence or skill with working professionally? Or the society cannot fathom the idea of a qualified, intelligent and talented homemaker? Is it such a ridiculous idea that somebody with brains and capability might choose to be a homemaker? Why have we begun to generally disparage women who stay at home, look after their kids, and cook for the family as less competitive and confident? Yes, they might not be as worldly, street smart or outgoing as their working counterparts who have much higher exposure to the world. But this difference might be purely out of lack of opportunity rather than lack of capability.

I choose to be a homemaker. Yes, undoubtedly because I am fortunate to afford the luxury. But that’s not all to it. I do not self doubt my worth just because I am not out there working professionally. I am not looking for a popular ratification or working stamp to prove my merit to anybody. And yes, it is disgruntling when people so often gauge you and patronize you through their faulty populist notions of independent, working, empowered woman.  

At the ripe age of almost 36, I think I have figured out myself reasonably. And I am ready to be responsible for it. I do not in the least mean, “take me the way I am, or leave me”. But I do mean that I might be done looking for others confirmations of me or matching upto their expectations. All I am is comfortable in the individual that I am. And I choose to own it up.

A dead dog told me I was human

Stray animal deaths on highways aren’t unusual at all. Quite a few are pushed to the other side of life by speeding wheels routinely and none can really be blamed except the fate of them. Several road trips have revealed many such grim sights to me but the one I saw at 7:53 a.m. on 12^th August while cruising on NH344, made me strangely melancholic momentarily.

There lay this lifeless victim sprawled on the road and though I could so much as only have a passing glimpse of it through my speeding car, my very first thought was how would his puppies know that one of their parents is not returning home. Wouldn’t they go looking out for him after waiting out patiently, would they feel panic, fear or anxiety after a certain time as we do? My heart felt a twinge of ache. Animal babies do look for their parents desperately when lost. So often, I’ve see kittens meowing and picking up scent traces of their mother, to find it. There is an unmistakable angst and fright in their calls. But unlike humans, who somehow get the bad news and its cause, there is nobody to go and inform the slain animal’s family or group of its demise.

Imagine if we had no communities, no social networks, no health or law and order set-up, our plight would very much be the same as of these animals. You expect the door knob to turn or the door bell to ring at 5 p.m., but it doesn’t. You are patient till 5.30, at 6 you pace around, beyond that your heart begins to thud and every minute that you simply stare at the shut door, your heart sinks. You keep waiting endlessly not knowing where your loved one disappeared. You only play with assumptions. It’s stifling, emotionally strangulating to put yourself in that situation. So I wonder about the predicament of those unaware animals who are clueless about the departure of one of their group mates or parents. How do you cope up with the trauma of a missing beloved? At least the knowledge and certainty of their never returning back makes it saner for us to deal with the loss.

 I console myself believing that probably animals don’t experience such complex emotions as humans. But I am not sure if this consolation is real because animals do feel pain and anguish. I had a pet German shepherd who was extremely attached to my brother. So when my brother went away to London for his studies, we often saw Lucky crouched in a corner alone and his eyes welled with tears at times.

Probably that’s how it’s meant to be, to feel a stab and then to come to terms with it. It absolutely staggers me how our minds are naturally equipped to deal with losses. Our lives are entwined so strongly with certain people that it’s unimaginable to be without them. But one unfortunate day we lose them. Our world falls apart, life as we knew it looks shattered, the grief is insurmountable and the heart aches and sobs. Hours pass, days pass, weeks pass and then months. We slowly begin to pick up shreds of our lives, rebuild new routines and form new habits. Memories become less vivid, conversations become less fluid and time traverses on as it heals us on the way. As a friend once wisely said, every new day makes you miss your beloved lesser till you reach the zero level. Sounds true enough. Probably you stop missing the person but you never stop remembering them, they may cease to be part of your active mindset but they don’t move to the oblivion mindscape either.

  

It is simply amazing that we are designed to move ahead in life, that we are meant to fade old memories to replace them with new ones, that the heart-ache knows to subside itself in time. If not, life would be tormenting. However, as I trace the journey of my own thoughts from the sad sight of the dead dog to this moment of typing in words, I find it baffling that humans are susceptible to this mind-blowing range of emotions. Like one moment its elation, your heart singing and absolutely positive ions emanating from you, and shortly after there might be a wave of nostalgia gripping you, bleakness engulfing you and negativity radiating through you.  You are caught up in this phenomenal emotional pendulum. Yep, there is a definite path of moderation where people sway neither way in heightened joy or sadness. The achievable state of equilibrium.

But honestly, in that balance, where you might save yourself from the uninvited gloom and anxiety, you might also lose the heartening euphoria you feel at seeing certain people, being with certain people and doing certain things. And I am not sure if I am ready to give up the earthly exhilaration for higher moderation. I like the imperfect, imbalanced being that I am. Gives me a certain human character. And Being human is a beautiful goal. 

All For Nothing OR For Love

 “Mummy, mummy”, a little girl cries out aloud in her soprano voice to grab her preoccupied mother’s attention.

 “Yes darling, what happened?” the mother turns to the daughter absentmindedly.

Taking her mom’s hand in hers and looking wistful for her age she asks, “Mummy, if I am walking on the road, and I trip over something and fell and I am hurt and there’s blood on my knee, will you feel bad that your daughter is in pain?” she rattled it all in one breath, looking expectantly at her mother.

 “Of course baby, I would feel very sad if you are hurt and in pain”, the mom responds instinctively though totally puzzled by the question.

The little soul looked reassured with the reply, while I was completely bemused and smiling,  looking at my three and a half year old honeybunchie’s hypothetical line of questioning. All I could do was hug her then.

She is a bit of a drama queen, especially high on melodrama.  So had she really tripped and injured herself and acted like a little-poor-thing for some extra pampering and attention, I wouldn’t be surprised. But conjuring up a situation and gauging my reaction to it really made me wonder as to what was going on in her little wayward head.

 In one of my recent blogs, I had mentioned how an illness brings in that extra touch of care which emotionally and mentally gratifies us more than any physical benefit of it. It basically satisfies our subtle desires for attention and importance. But this didn’t seem to be a plausible explanation for my munchkin’s concern. She has enough antics rolling out of her joyous self to attract our attention. And I feel she is a bit too young to really look for self gratification through a physical condition.

As I went over her systematic concern for her hurt, I could only understand that she needed my self- assurance there. Sometimes as parents life is frustrating with the kids, and in that fit of rage, a few harsh words always escape the roving tongue. But how they permeate those stubborn yet impressionable and gentle minds is amazing.  She is a very playful but mischievous and obstinate child who wants it her way each time, for which she is often chastised and castigated by me. Thus, I presume my furious words pinched and scared her somewhere, for which she needed a lot of self assurance. A certainty that she is still the apple of my eyes and her pain makes me suffer.

I can relate to this emotional tumult as a grown-up too because when I have had rifts with my husband, similar questions have popped up in my head though I may not have asked them explicitly. When there is some sort of fissure and discord between close and crucial relationships, assurance is what you need the most. You have these self doubts crawling up your nerves that if something untoward happens to me tomorrow, will it pain and matter to the other or not. An acknowledgement that I am still special, important and valued in the other’s life despite all the conflicts, chasms and chastising, is what consoles the distraught mind. My daughter in her innocence could ask me for that acknowledgement straightforward, but we as adults might not be able to do the same. Though internally all of us yearn for it anyway.

I hope I have put my princess’s worries to rest. Though, she has asked me the same question atleast twice again but more out of fun now. In fact the other morning she went a step further and enquired why would I feel bad if she is hurt? I simply told her because I love you so much, and if you are hurt it will sadden me. There was such a wide smile plastered across her face as if the sun just shone out on her. How we all wish to hear that “Love you” so often but don’t go around saying it that much to each other as adults.

 Processing this entire situation struck me with something unusual. My daughter asked me if I would feel bad for her, but in the same context not very often does anyone ask, “If I would be very healthy or kind or smiling or successful would you feel happy for me?” Strange isn’t it? It is natural and apparent that a parent suffers his child’s pain and rejoices his child’s joys. And the same holds good for other close relationships. Yet we look for self assurance only in unpleasant and inharmonious times, not otherwise. Do we undermine the value of happy-time-support or assume its presence by default? I guess the second is truer. Imagine you made a great accomplishment and are overjoyed about it but the other significant people in your life neither share your excitement nor express it. It will derail your morale and hurt you sharply. This clearly shows that a happy-time-support is equally needed even if not asked.

I guess the happy support group in our lives is much larger and wider hence, we don’t really doubt or worry about its availability or presence. On the other hand, the people we share our pain with or expect to be affected by our pain are few and most cherished. Their assurance and love is what we seek and what hushes our doubts.

 It’s funny how my little doll’s single remark could be such food for thought. And I feel the innocence in their naughtiness is the most beautiful thing about a childhood. You don’t wait for love to be shown, you just ask for it when you need to feel it.

‘UNCONDITIONAL’ LOVE ? Terms and conditions do apply ...

 A cursory glance through my previous posts made me notice. Notice that posts on relationships, especially the Adam and Eve ones, have a much better pageview count than the others. And it only implied readers’ interest for such topics.

It is the biggest paradox of our lives that we so desire a fulfilling relationship with someone and the same relationship in time can become the bane of our existence. Or just a reason for some unnecessary strife. But there is absolutely no disparaging that a companionable relationship makes life so much more enjoyable, lovable and bearable despite its routine pricks.

What’s more interesting is that no relationship, begun whichever way as a fling, affair, mental or emotional connect, stays exclusive or confined to that mode for long. Not when both are mutually into it by personal choice. Of course men and women are naturally driven differently with respect to emotions and physicality but in time both aspects find a consensual existence in a relationship. And a healthy friendship can run parallel in the background.

A relationship completes you but it does not let you cease individually. In fact that is the hallmark of a beautiful relationship, to let you keep your individuality. This then also implies that no matter how enjoyable, supportive, honest and loving the partner or relationship is, you are still alone in it. All by yourself. And this aloneness might leave you feeling vulnerable and insecure at times but not permanently if you know your strengths. You have innumerable personal battles to fight on where you are the solo warrior. Friends, companions, partners can only so much as show their solidarity and understanding while the onus is upon you to win or lose the case. And though they are personal battles, most times they have a huge bearing and implication on the relationship status.

It’s such an evident reality that happy and cheerful people are magnetic. They draw and attract people with their effortless joyous vibe. But I might be all surly and sour because a phone call that should have come didn’t come, a particular reply I wanted to hear wasn’t uttered or a “love you too” at the end of the conversation was skipped. So now this upsets my mood and the annoyance gnaws me inside.  Does it help me in anyway? Yes, forget charming more people, I might be repelling even the ones I have. Expectations are the biggest game spoilers. And we are such slaves to it that it is frustrating. Breaking this bondage is a horrendous task if not impossible; it is a matter of constant conscious effort to remind yourself. 

  

Having said that, I have also often wondered that when you are hurt in a relationship, (and usually it is the non-fulfillment of expectations which hurt) do you or should you let your partner/lover know about it or work upon your aggrieved feelings individually? In the higher and spiritual purview of life maybe you should take personal responsibility of your pain and heal your emotional wounds on your own. But my devil’s advocate argues that unless you tell the other about your anguish, they have no way to know it. You pretend to be hunky dory, try to fix your emotions while the other goes about their business as usual. Unaware of your internal ache, he begins to assume that you are always sunny, unruffled and available at a beck and call. Almost taken for granted at times, and that’s not a fair place to be in any relationship.

However, it also makes me ponder, that when I reveal my hurt to the other, I am baring my weaknesses. I am showing how much influence and control I let the other have over my emotions. And this can be so easily misused and manipulated if so desired. On the other hand, admitting your pain to your partner needs courage and inner strength where you have overcome the fear of appearing vulnerable, insecure or sympathetic. You acknowledge that that person holds profound influence on you because he matters to you. Not because you can’t live without him but rather you wouldn’t want to.

However, down the line it also occurs to me that for how long or how much would you keep loving someone when the reciprocation doesn’t ever meet your expectations. And it could be simply because you and your partner are in different head spaces about the relationship and look at it in different lights. But the crux is do you accommodate the relationship whichever way possible because the pain of losing that person is worse than the pain of unrequited expectations? 

There are no straight answers to these knotty questions. Relationships are very individualistic and volatile. They are highly subjective and personal where each fights his own battle essentially alone. However, I think there is a thin line between ego and self respect. Ego with expectations rings the death knell for any relationship. So its best kept at bay. At the same time, no relationship is satisfying, worthy or any longer pleasurable if you have begun compromising your self-respect and individuality for it. In the same sense, detachment and indifference have a hazy line between them. It’s good to be detached in a relationship but unjust to stretch it to apathy. No one likes to be ignored specially by the one you have given your heart to. And fool others but don’t fool yourself because you very well know when you take a step out of ego or otherwise.

You need a very strong and supple core to fight these internal battles. And this strength comes from deep inside you. It’s essentially a journey within that equips you to make the outward journey beautiful. A relationship could be such a great way of life if we could look at it this way... a massive resource for spiritual growth.  When you come across someone who gives you an opportunity for mental pragmatism, emotional stability and physical fulfillment, the mortal life can’t get any better.

Just remember you are still alone and on your own in it till the very end...  

(Disclaimer: The pronoun “he” has been used throughout only for ease of read and implies both men and women unbiasedly.)

When the Body Goes VIRAL...

Wow... the kind of extreme lifestyles we so copiously cope with, makes me chuckle. It amazes me how we revel in our corrupt eating, drinking and sleeping patterns at sundowners; and on waking up from these orgies are only talking about millets, nachani, detox waters, organic crops and cold pressed juices. We have quite cleverly divided our day and night food and beverage consumption in two contrast categories. Despite the ingenious cleverness of our double standard degenerative lifestyle, the body is body and it falls prey to all sorts of minor and major maladies and diseases.

However, my motive in writing this piece is not about trashing our lifestyle. I am neither endorsing it, detracting it nor moral policing it. My interest here is to understand the plight of an ill body and more so the mind that is housed inside it. Yes, being ill even for the shortest span can make you thoughtful and caring even if temporarily. I just recovered from a severe throat infection, where you find thorns pricking the inside of your oesophagus on a non-stop basis. Swallowing water is painful and it doesn’t pass down through the congested, constricted, inflamed, phlegm coated, throat passage. And the accompanying fever, that comes and goes like some uninvited guests in an Indian summer household, leaves your body pretty wasted and inert. This condition bound me to the bed for four whole days and I felt so trapped, bored and insufficient.

Now when you are ill, not necessarily with any life threatening or depressing diseases, just the regular ones, you still like or rather enjoy the care and kindness coming your way. The pampering of everyone checking on you, cajoling you to eat or drink whatever you wish like, making sure you are comfortable and so forth is pleasurable. Everybody does enjoy the sympathetic affection. And the ones who show little concern aren’t particularly grudged or disliked or embittered, just that this little blip of thought makes its way to your head, ‘he/she didn’t even bother to check if I was feeling any better”. Now this is such a natural thought to spring, nothing to be embarrassed to admit. However, if such thoughts don’t bother you, you are blessed with a Zen like detachment which is good for you. But most of us aren’t so it will be relevant to read on further.

    

Now while enjoying and appreciating all the care, concern and kindness lavished upon you, it’s good to register this for your future reference.  When you need to tend to and care for someone else, it will come handy. It’s simple to follow the logic, when I enjoy and value the care of others, so does the other. And so next time around my care and compassion towards the other might be more heartfelt and genuine than duty bound. Your suffering invokes empathy towards other’s suffering. You do not belittle other’s pain no matter how routine or bearable it seems to you otherwise. Four days lying around in sickness, where I was still pretty mobile with the paracetamols but physically drained and mentally static, made me wonder about the plight of those with long standing illnesses.  

A short illness when leaves us so drab and docile, you can imagine what it does when it becomes a time barred tenant. This sculpture of body, we so fancy and fret about, starts disintegrating day after day, the stores of energy just vaporising, the keenness of the mind simply going numb, and the buds of taste turning awry. Living life is a daily struggle, and there is little hope for recovery or cheer in the following day. It is immensely punishing to sustain a deteriorating and dependent life, irritability and resignation is its most natural outcome. And it is equally demanding on those taking care because we are mortals after all who exhaust on the reservoirs of strength, patience and compassion. It takes a mental and physical toll to deal with another’s illness and the paraphernalia. But just when you remember that your simple headache even for an hour can be so discomforting, it gives you the empathy for gentle tending for another day. You are a more willing and comforting attendant.  

However, I realized something quite intriguing about falling ill. It has a funny bearing on your imagination which makes you ask what if this isn’t just the usual fever and something terrible. What if the persistent headache is the result of not mere heat but some blood clot? You conjure the disease imagining the impact it will have on your loved ones. How would they react to your, if not going away, to your sad crippled state? It is extremely self gratifying to know that your presence and then your absence might affect your family, loved ones, companion or lover profoundly.

 I know it sounds creepy, not hypochondriac types, but kind of self obsessed ghoulish thinking. You don’t want it as a manifested reality but you are tempted to imagine out the possibility of your sudden health collapse and its impact on others. Macabre as it sounds, the waves of sympathy, nurture, care, love that would erupt in quick successions indulges your ego greatly. And embarrassing at it sounds, deep down I guess we have had such sinister thoughts sometime or the other. It is amazing how even as adults we seek phenomenal attention from others and it so salivates our sense of self worth. The need for feeling important and special is so strong and innate within us that we might participate in such morbid imaginations.

But an unhealthy body is one of the most depressing and cumbersome things to live with. So while you may imagine or un-imagine anything in your debilitating health, become caring or uncaring after it, but you really don’t want to wish yourself or others illness. A healthy body is so pleasurable in every sense of the word that it totally makes sense to preserve it and pray for its well being. 

I LOVE ME

Radical, Sensitive, Thinking, Aware, Emotional, Alone, Happy...I would sum up the journey of self-discovery in more or less these words. Discovering yourself is such a dynamic and continuous phenomenon because you are constantly exposing yourself to different situations and people. At the same time, to your greatest surprise you will also discover yourself responding and reacting very differently to the same situation with different people involved. However, when you talk about self-discovery in respect to a love relationship, it is quite complex but interesting. 

Love in itself is only an emotion, a magnificent one. It changes the way you look, feel, perceive and accept things. You are willing to travel that extra mile against all odds, because it is compelling. It is your choice. You are destined to meet certain people, but what you do after that is purely a matter of free will. And sometimes a leap of faith, an unearthly conviction, and an abstract gravity pushes you into a free fall of love with someone. And what a fall it is! Absolutely uplifting. But like any other emotion, love needs a journey to be lived, expressed and felt. And in this terrific journey you can come across a very defining realization about yourself... You love someone but you love yourself as much. It’s an amazing thing. It gives you a perspective about yourself, about who you want to be.

There are basically two things that make you up, belief system and value system. And each person has his own of both. But where belief system is very active, constantly changing and ever evolving; the value system is more like the roots to keep you stable and grounded. As much as it is blissful to be in love and to be loved, you give a lot of your heart, mind and soul to experience that ecstasy. When you give in so much, you undoubtedly receive bountiful as well. However, during this trade off you might undergo a lot of changes in your belief system finding yourself anew. Assume you love someone dearly and divinely but it is outside the accepted societal moorings. But to you it is acceptable as per your belief system. However, this true but unorthodox love might be extremely hurtful, if not wrong, to others - your parents, a friend or a spouse.   So you might find yourself standing at a crossroad, not sure of who you are becoming or others’ perception of you. And when such doubts cloud your good sense, it might be appropriate to scale yourself up against your value system.

 “No one is responsible about how others feel or choose to react; every joy or misery is self-inflicted. Only you choose and control your state of mind”. No matter how informed we are of these pearls of wisdom, we are amateurs in this art of living. And so by this logic, you will be affected, highly affected by what others think of you and what you think of yourself. You might not be guilty or repentant of loving someone as a trespasser but you cannot accept yourself as a callous selfish spoiler.  This image is not exactly to your liking of perception, and so it pinches you of embarrassment and stings of loathsome. Despite the tempest of love in your heart and its enchantment in your mind, you might contemplate how far you want to love someone, before you reach the tipping point where it pushes you out of your comfort value zone. When you near that point, you might want to reconsider. And reconsider not whether you love the other or not, but if you want to go on.

When you consider and choose loving yourself over loving the other, you do not turn off the love button and expect everything gets over. It does not happen. You only decide to call off the rest of the journey and forego all those jaunts of awesomeness in between. You do not stop loving, you stop living the love. You give up the beautiful journey not because it is wrong or you are forced to, you give it up because you love yourself enough. Enough that you cannot change your intrinsic character for it. It will be an overwhelming revelation to your own self and if it’s a shared experience with your loved one, it can be such an epiphanic and empathetic moment of self-discovery for you both.

Loving yourself isn’t being self-centric; it’s about valuing yourself above situations and people. Taking charge of your life, opening the doors of your heart to let people in, but not shutting yourself out. A strong core system to me is a lot about compassion and empathy. When you empathize with another being, you also empathize with yourself. You aren’t harsh upon your own weaknesses. Because when you will try to walk this new unbeaten road alone your resolute will waver, your happiness which was dependent will be trampled, and it will hammer your heart to give up a loved one. But you give yourself time to see it through and learn through it – finding and testing your mental and emotional limits.

And so when you set off on this solo love journey, you will in time come across your happy side suddenly somewhere. It’s not going to be a constant vibe of course but nevertheless it’s liberating in its moments. It’s just being mindful but effortless. As succinctly as Osho reflects – BE...DON’T TRY TO BECOME. And this “JUST BE” is exactly the moment; you will fall in love with yourself differently. You will fall in love with your independent happiness. And it’s a beautiful thing to happen. It is beautiful to be in love, and even more beautiful to live the love... but living the love with somebody is not always your option.

So, I love me. Could be your greatest discovery...

LIVE AND LET DIE

Words can move you. They are potent and powerful. The beauty of beautifully written words is that they evoke a running visual imagery, giving your senses a heightened vicarious experience and if you can feel the throbbing emotion of that literal moment, it might overwhelm you enough to write a few words of your own. So while absorbing Markus Suzak’s The Book Thief, I couldn’t help not thinking about the Life Thieves. And thus I wrote...  

Why did we corrupt ourselves so egregiously and so viciously that it defeats the very purpose of our existence? When life could simply be about the simplest of joys... of being with your loved ones... who on earth gave these fellow humans the right to snatch it away from us so blatantly? Ever since history has been recorded we have these thieves of lives and happiness. Countries are bombed. Populations are maimed. People are left alone. And those left behind are desperate to be carried upon the shoulders of death. This has been our distraught dysfunctional world forever.

The stories in the newspapers aren’t really stories. They are reports and statistics on human worthlessness. But when you read a real one... A story of loss... of the numbing pain of losing your loved one... of the repressed agony of losing an irreplaceable best friend... of the vacuum grief of losing everything you built your dreams upon... it will tug at your heart. It will scorch your soul with abhorrence and leave you breathless. Mocking at your good fortune, it will question you that how come when every part of the world is being proudly ravaged, looted and threatened, you are in a safe zone, alive and reading about others.

At 36,000ft above sea level when I am typing this and I look out of the window a blue and white horizon meets me in the eye. It is beautiful and reminds me that I love my life. But next moment, with a pounding heart I wonder what if my flight is hijacked? What if there is a conspiracy planned against this aircraft? What if this carrier never lands and I don’t make it to the crazy family get-together I am going for? What if I never make it back home where I promised my kids to return in three days? What if I never get to hug my husband again? Yeah natural calamities happen, accidents happen, people do die... it worries me but does not unnerve me. It is the fear of those lurking thugs, those robbers who come to steal my life, my time, my happiness before it’s my time. No, they don’t have the right to do it. Nobody has it. You cannot cut short my journey. And what frustrates me is that I do not even know the identity of these thieves. Are they politicians, warlords, national leaders, religious demagogues? Who the hell are they?

As a lay person, I cannot comprehend the vastly and intensely divided world that we cohabit because funnily the majority of the people are not on any side. There is a small concentrated population who genuinely talks about love, humanity, compassion and spirituality. There is a bigger concentrated population who fanatically talks about wars, religious supremacy, power, and conquests. And then we are left with a mammoth chunk of people who aren’t talking about anything. They are nonchalant. Indifferent. But the gut-thrashing episodes, without so much as going beyond the last century, of Jewish Genocide, bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, detentions at Guantanamo Bay, disruption of Lebanon, Syria, Afghanistan, savagery of Boko Haram and uncountable episodes of most horrific and basal human instincts, leaves the indifference somewhat shaken. It stirs and shrinks the joyous vibe within you momentarily. When you empathize with those who are robbed untimely, unnecessarily and unknowingly, it swells your heart with an unmistakable burden of injustice.

How dumb it is that a lot of them lose their lives in the cause of wars and more as victims of it. But nothing happens to those hungry fanatics waging it. In fact the world goes about its dysfunctional, anarchist and abnormal ways as always. What purpose does it serve to rampage lives? I mean, you want to hoard wealth, land, weapons, etc to give you an illusionary sense of power. So you go and wrongly grab what rightfully belongs to others. Alright. But the barbaric dealing of lives is something else altogether.  Or maybe they do have a purpose after all, once the physical lives are gone, these unabashed thieves colonize and own the psychological lives of those left. And the arrogance of owning people can be wantonly and wickedly rousing. It saddens me deeply that human lives have been commoditized so worthlessly to mere numbers in this totally insane thievery.

However, what flabbergasts me more is that intelligent men and women choose to wage and join these wars. I wonder what if people refuse to be recruited to fight wars; what if there are no armies of any kind at all. Yeah, they say they have their reasons to fight. But does anybody really have a right or reason to murder the other when there’s not even a personal vendetta involved. I am not a saint. I lie, I wrong, I hurt, I curse but I do not kill. I haven’t left an orphan somewhere with stifled sobs. I haven’t left a hollow eyed widow staring at a photo frame. I haven’t left a parent waiting at the window with cremated dreams.

I only pray that if you are a thief, plunder and pilfer anything you want but don’t steal lives, don’t rob dreams and don’t take away somebody’s reason to smile. This thieving will leave wounds for you and the victim, which time doesn’t heal but love does. You might be whoever you are but don’t be the consorts of death.  Life is meant to be lived, not to be spent stealing others’.

HAPPINESS...PERSONIFIED...AND PERSONALIZED

Happiness... as one of my friends’ mentioned is a very unique emotion, distinct from everything else, which has the most wholesome bearing upon your heart and mind. Sounded very interesting and so I thought it might just be enlightening to delve into its nuances. Of course I have neither studied the subject nor have I gone into any research, nevertheless I choose to write on it. After all a layman’s thoughts shouldn’t be callously trivialized. More so, our personal experiences are no less insightful and sharing it only surprises me how the same emotions flow through all of us at some point or the other.

I have no doubt, yet I ask if we receive happiness or create it. Of course I am aware that we are designed to create it and then spread it. But since my awareness is not followed up by enough strength and practice, I am usually at odds with it. Another dear friend just twirled his curiosity as to why do we even exist. My belief is to know ourselves. Or just to know happiness... Of what little I have understood about life, it is a journey of self discovery. As they say every soul is immaculate in its truest form, it’s the layers of our earthly life which distort it. So maybe we are here to discover that unblemished soulful happiness within ourselves.

Happiness is a rather vague illusionary term when I write it. It is the experience of it which matters. It’s that profound feeling where you have this brimming joy which you want to give to the whole world. You wish every single soul well. It doesn’t matter if you see a stranger, you just want to smile. I’ll borrow my favourite phrase, “You just want to be a happy vibe.”... No holds barred. I have had this momentary flitting feeling at times and it’s awesome. Your mind which is usually doing a drab draconian dance will be tapping on a totally different trance beat. You wouldn’t really care for a glass of wine in this mind space. And your heart will dissolve decade-old grudges with ease and empathy.

However, the challenge is in converting this ephemeral beautiful feeling into a lasting state of mind. Well, for the major part of the problem we are all too dependent on others to give it. We are evolved to create it but haven’t really learnt it or honed it. Let me put it in one of the most relatable scenarios here of when I fall in love. Love and being loved is a wondrous feeling, which gives you a dizzying emotional high. Makes you see the world very differently. So in this highly ecstatic mental state, love is my primary feeling but happiness is my consequential feeling. And it is this consequential feeling that I will spread around others in the simplest of ways as smiling at a stranger or petting a stray cat. This feather light feeling is extraordinary, immensely liberating and it does so much good because I am contributing a happily charged vibe in the universe.

But the day I stop being that person’s centre of the world, my feeling would be of insurmountable sorrow to begin with.  It is terribly heart wrenching to see your fantastical world fall apart. I will for a while drown in grief. However, when I think beyond I realize that my primary and consequential feeling will be almost the same of hurt, sadness, pain or irritability but it will be isolated to me. Yeah, I might react exasperatedly and exaggeratedly but I will still not wish the whole world sorrow. I would not send a vibe that wishes all the people in this world suffer heartbreak because I am suffering. We aren’t really so basal or such morons.

Next, when I tried replicating the same logic to other negative emotions of fear, anger, etc, I realized that the consequential feeling is also always negative. And as human as I am, I might wish ill for the person in context, but my antipathy is never so strong or compelling to wish it upon the entire world in general. But when it comes to positive expressions like excitement, kindness, success, etc the underlying consequential feeling is always of joy. When I might write my bestseller, my exhilarating primary feeling will be of accomplishment and popularity but my innate consequential feeling will still be happiness. So in this success I don’t wish that all amateur writers become bestsellers tomorrow, but in my happiness I just wish everybody well. I respond with a smile and a happy heart. And that’s a very beautiful place to be in.  I want to end it here... just staying in this amazingly blissful zone.

But sadly it doesn’t end here. It rather ends when the excitement of my love and bestseller end. My stimulus subsides, my happiness vanishes. How ironic then that despite happiness being the single most undiluted and wholesome emotion bearing upon our hearts, minds and soul, we don’t sustain it. Simply because for so long we have kept it dependent upon people and events. But I guess it’s time to make amendments. There’s a time and occasion to love, to succeed, to grieve, to fear, but to be Happy should be Timeless. Effortless. Condition less. I need it. We need it.

I GIVE SOME, I GET SOME

“Gokul... Gokul...” No response from Gokul. I try louder and longer this time, “Gookkuuulll”. The boy so much as doesn’t even look up. I go closer, shake his shoulder and he immediately peers up at me with his wide grin.  And it strikes me; he cannot of course listen to my calling him out. He doesn’t respond to sound. Gokul’s hearing is impaired.

This happens with us often where my friend Deepali and I take a weekly art class for a bunch of gregarious and mischievous kids in a hearing impaired school. We are so accustomed to sound responses that despite being aware of their aural challenge we keep calling out their names and they are oblivious to it all, lost in their own mess of colours and glue.

 In the past few months, I have inevitably received two most wonderful gifts in every class from this sprightly and peppy lot. When my friend and I walk into the class each time, we see the most genuine expression of joy almost elation on their faces. It is like a sudden wave of excitement and welcome engulfing us. In all these year I have never seen anybody so happy to see me, trust me it is the most affectionate reception I have personally known. Of course it neither makes us the most important or lovable people in their lives nor does it imply that we aren’t lovable or important to our own families and friends. But it is the sheer expression of their delight which touches and warms me every time. Communication is a huge challenge between us and yet they are full of stories to narrate to us. From a sibling born to one of them, a classmate’s birthday, a fight in the class to their sport’s day, we know all. And every time we leave, they flock around like little sparrows to confirm that we shall return the next week.

I believed that they give us this kind of attention, warmth and welcome because we try to bring in some fun time. We endeavor to give them that simple but cherished childhood enjoyment of mess with paints, paper and glue, which is missing in their lives. It is just a pleasant time off from their otherwise mundane routine. And hence all the loving hullabaloo. This might be true to an extent but just the other day I visited another school for special kids and my experience there made me think again.

I reached there around breakfast time and since the person concerned was busy I waited outside their dining hall watching the inmates squabble and eat. Just then I caught something funny, a teenaged girl had enough idlis in her plate which didn’t look very palatable to her. To her right was a pile of dirty plates, next I see her stealing a moment, glancing sideways and dumping her idlis beneath one of plates in the pile. To her left was another plate with an egg still there. She lurked at it quietly and the next second she had two eggs of her own. She looked up and our eyes met in mischief. I gave her a conspiratorial knowing smile and she returned the same. We both knew her secret. Soon after, she came by and so did many others to where I was standing, waving keenly and smiling gleefully.

 I wasn’t in a particularly great mood that morning but this casual visit just shifted my focus. I thought these kids, some even adults didn’t know me in the slightest, I wasn’t even doing them any good unlike the art class kids and yet they were so forthcoming in their cheerful greetings for me. And they are no saints; they are brats, as troublesome and instinctive as any other children. But strangely what sets them apart is their lucid expressiveness of positivity. While we with all our seminars, books and talks on happiness, positivity, blah blah, find it so unachievable to send across a simple effortless smile.  As per research, people who are socially and emotionally deprived, which these kids are, are very sensitive and quick to accept and reciprocate affection at the first gesture of it. But what’s truer to me is the fact that though their minds might not be as sharp, their hearts are innocent and incorrupt which makes their goodness overflowing.

 The other thing which I experience after the classes is a deep sense of thankfulness washing over me. You begin to look at your life with a different sight. I realize that I am immensely fortunate to have woken up in good health and to a healthy family. I don’t have to depend upon others generosity to feed and clothe my kids and most importantly I was born in a family that could afford my physiological, social and emotional needs and I am in a position to do the same for my children. I’ll admit that this sense of blessedness is very ephemeral and temporary, it’s snoozed the next morning I get up but these intermittent reminders yet help me admire my benevolent reality in spurts. 

I told you that I was in a sort of petulant, scratchy and inharmonious mind frame when I had gone to the other school, I was like that patch of dark cloud, fully laden but doesn’t pour out releasing itself instead disintegrates its blackness bit by bit and sullies the entire sky. However, at times the sunshine streaks through unpredictably turning the somberness into light. So exactly fifteen minutes later when I left the premises, I felt very light.

Random smiles and gratitude play big in mood alleviation. Very recommendable.