Tuesday, December 29, 2020

No Running Away from what's going to come at you!

Today was a particularly well rested day. Also a day, I made lunch by myself after a break from cooking for months. I’d forgotten that while cooking is definitely a task, it’s also indulgence. It is after all a creative output that nourishes the instinctive need of humans to manifest their genius. Okay, so I guess I’ve really glorified my cooking today.

Sometimes, I’m amazed at my own privileged thoughts and behavior. I’ve ended up making a big deal about cooking ‘daal-chaawal’ which is pretty basic and people, all over the world cook elaborate meals every day of their lives to feed themselves and others. I mean, my cooking would have been somewhat noble if I was cooking for someone else. Cooking for self is selfish enough to not qualify for any kind of nobility.

That reminds me of that one month when I cooked three meals and two snacks a day while taking care of my covid-hit parents back in September and October. I took leave and dedicated myself to take over the daily chores of running a household and caring for the sick. I must confess that it was extremely daunting and difficult to care for covid-sick parents while attending to the daily and un-ending needs of cooking, cleaning and washing. My ‘gharelu’ avatar really bloomed and I was surprised to have been able to manage it one way or the other.

However, the constant stress of chores while also ensuring my own safety as well as the emotional trauma of uncertainty that covid brings with itself really tested my patience. Also my father was a stressed out pressure cooker ready to burst any given moment. Covid had really brought down his spirits and he was not just fighting a physical illness but also an emotional battle.

From what I know of him, he was probably planning a life for his family just-in-case he didn’t survive covid. Also the fact that we were in Dubai, away from our roots and family made things worse. My parents (read dad, not mom) were constantly plagued with a ‘what-if’. What if they’d have to leave this world without the gestures of ultimate farewell? What if their kids did not make a good life for themselves? After all, their daughter was still unmarried and son still studying.

Mom, Me, Dad

This anxiety often manifested itself in outbursts of both emotion and aggression. I found my father losing his happiness each day as he grew angrier and more frustrated. It often resulted in certain outbursts on me and my brother for no valid reasons. I would absorb most of it quietly, telling myself of his situation. I tried to stay calm and positive. But I often cried at nights. For unexplained reasons. I often worried myself sick. I often stayed up all night despite the physical exertion that days had demanded.

More importantly, this phase helped me empathize with my father and his possible childhood experiences. I often found myself angry at my father for being impatient. For being angry. Sometimes negligent but more often than not, highly idealistic. Ideals that only ‘he’ cared about. And ideals that had more to do with other people than ourselves. Ideals that were many a times selfish. It brought me to a point that I had no other option but to understand. His reasons and his outlook were most likely an outcome of where he came from. The poverty in his childhood. The sick and narrow patriarchal setups of Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan. And of course the default privilege which comes with being a man in this world.

I tried to visualize how his childhood must have been. Needless to say, it was way more inconvenient than it was for his children. He must have been in constant competition for bits and pieces. He must have been in constant judgement of being the youngest child. He must have been overshadowed, criticized and most likely said no to. He must have been denied love and respect. Of course these musings are not just a figment of my imagination. I know things about my family which help me corroborate and build a past situation that I was physically never a part of.

But what’s truly interesting is –

1. Our childhoods and upbringing decide who we become as people

2. Unfortunately, it’s not just our childhood but also that of our parents

So basically there’s no running away from what’s going to come at you. What you make of it is important. And there’s absolutely no need to hurry to understand this. I mean it’s dawned upon me after almost living half my life. It’s a process which may or may not happen with everyone. But really, this year has been quite a teacher. They say Saturn is a hard taskmaster. It will whip you until you get moving to a direction which is your calling. In this particular case, I think it’s whipped me to move towards empathy and forgiveness. Two qualities my mother armed me with when I was dealing with negative emotions this year.

The year is now closing soon. Although it might just mean a turn of the solar calendar and nothing more. But a man (and a woman) has got to hold onto hope, right?

This reminds me, that I’ll probably order dinner now. Since I’m so tired of all the cooking and cleaning. Ha-ha, just kidding.                         


Sunday, December 27, 2020

Exciting times call for saying goodbyes!

Life’s been pretty exciting of late. I am moving houses! It’s almost become an annual ritual. Moving houses thrice in 2 years is not a mean deal in general and not at all so in Mumbai. Yet, the journey to find myself a house took me from Chembur to Bandra to Parel to Colaba. I’ve finally found something I kind of like in Worli. The quest has been inconvenient especially because this is the holiday season we’ve all looked forward to. Anyway now that the hunt is almost over, it’s the emotionally difficult time to pack my bags and say goodbye.

I’ve been particularly bad at saying goodbyes. Letting go is a life-lesson which is majorly work in slow-progress. Every time I leave a place, people or situation, I feel some part of my life is coming to a still or worse, an end. Stepping out of comfort zone has gotten difficult and I can feel my inertia weighing me down more than it has before. I blame it on experience and caution it brings. 

But then again, even as a child I cried every time I returned from my Nani’s place. And wept when friends and relatives left. It pained me to move schools. It pained me to let go of teachers I loved. And it was a kick-in-my-gut when I left home. And each time since, whether it’s returning from a week long break or a 2 month annual vacation, leaving home’s been the most difficult emotional task I’ve undertaken.

Although there’s a side of me that’s glad about it. I think it’s allowed me to spread my wings in lengths I’d choose and the confidence to steer towards unknown directions. And to let me fall in love with the most unsuspecting situations (and people, khee hee).

The other day, a friend and I agreed on how sexual tension in a given situation keeps things going. How it just makes any equation more exciting. How it can be the sole reason for people to do things they’d otherwise not do. This tension, which sometimes goes through a metamorphosis and becomes love (no clue what that means but to each, their own interpretation) is probably the strongest force for human beings to commit an act which is outside of their general behavior.

It manifests itself strongly not just when one is falling in love. But also, when one is heartbroken. One of the things I randomly believe in is that pain and heartbreak changes you far more intensely than the pleasant phases of early sexual tension and falling for another. It just pushes you to question everything about yourself. It’s golden time for correction, re-organizing your life and moving towards becoming the person you chose to be.

Not everyone feels so strongly about all of this though. Mostly even I don’t. After all, it’s just one of those things we don’t want to acknowledge. It’s super convenient to stay emotionally unavailable to yourself. It’s possible to live a life without giving these conversations a chance. Conversations that we have with ourselves.

Just like the one I am having now with this blog post.

It’s 27th December. 4 days to go before a new year arrives. Not hoping for hash brownies to drop from the sky but still giving myself a break with a dash of optimism for 2021.

Let’s see. Let’s see.

I reckon that putting faces of women is a marketing strategy that works everywhere!. Just saying.
After a full day of 'Mehnat' to find 'Chatt'







Friday, December 25, 2020

Bye 2020! (Merry Christmas & Happy 'Tulsi Jayanti'

 

25th December was almost always supposed to be just Christmas. However, after 32 years of being a Hindu in India, I discovered that 25th December is apparently also ‘Tulsi Poojan Divas’. Got a whatsapp forward on one of the larger family groups claiming this ‘Tulsi Jayanti’ and why we must celebrate and revere the ‘Tulsi Maa’.



Funny, how Hindutva is getting insecure about its share of voice on Christmas. And also hats off that they are relentless and always manage to come up with a crappy sensation that gains instant traction across the hateful hearts of so many of us.

Anyway, today was a good day. I woke up early and met some extremely positive people who beamed with natural kind happiness. The fact that people can look and convey ‘healthy’ is very inspiring. Got home to enjoy a lazy afternoon with poha and chai. Also received three Myntra parcels which I’d ordered for myself as Christmas presents. More so, bought some lipsticks and shadows which cheered up the consumer in me.

Typing this down as the night arrives and I listen to the good old ‘Coke Studio Pakistan’ and ‘Tajdar Junaid’ as friends come down to watch movies and have dinner.

Can’t believe I’ve managed a happy post. So unlike me, especially while typing blog entries. Confusion, question and uncertainty can result into exploring your darkest corners, facing your shit and then learning to live with it, each day, stronger. It leads you go through a skimming sieve that makes you flow through a tornado blowing immense amount of dust, off you. And bringing you to a world that is bigger and full of possibilities. It leaves you feeling that you’re ready to once again, put yourself out there in the world in the pursuit of your dreams and hopes.

Merry Xmas!

Bye, 2020.  

I now understand why isolation is a torture technique

It's the Christmas of 2020.

The much awaited festive energy to end this brutal year is here. A friend mentioned that Christmas is a modern concept with no reference in the 'Bible'. Regardless, it's a much celebrated festival and we all could use an excuse for a break.  

*The people in the slum next door, sing and celebrate into the night*

I decided to write this blog on a midnight instinct and it's 1:35 AM IST right now with Mumbai being chillier than it usually is. The un-lock has brought back the spirit of Mumbai and it feels live-able again. The funny thing about Mumbai is that even though I love it, it's difficult to live here. Rents are high, traffic is bad, roads are narrow and time is short. Life paces and years gallop as our daily routines chime in mindless task based lifestyles. 

The opportunity to pause barely presents itself and when it does, it's bound by caveats. And limitations. Of time, of money and the attached cost of lost alternatives. Sometimes, that alternative is love. Sometimes, it's friendship. But mostly, it's mindfulness. About oneself and her environment. 

I imagine myself staring as life rushes past me, with its slithering sharp pace and a blinding charm that mutes away inner voices. Especially the inconvenient ones. Its reassuring safety, which is truly, just a habit and inertia of comfort, keeps one from revaluating mindsets and choices. Clearly, these barriers are solidified over time and it takes quite a bit of will to accept them and break through them. And what comes in handy the most, is a trust group. People who support you and believe in you.

Funnily, in the last one week, at-least three people expressed more confidence in me than I'd have given myself credit for. Their kind observation worked like a catalyst to stir a series of emotions in a question-answer format within me. I asked myself questions and responded honestly to them. In the process, I could identify my barriers, my real issues, some grievances and some random notches of sub-conscious excuses. 

It also helped me remind myself of lessons I'd learnt the hard way and I swore a few years back to live by them. I am listing them below as a ready reminder for self:

1. Let life happen. Give it a chance. Be fluid.

2. One can control very few things. Control them well. But only control, what you can.

3. Present will definitely shape future. Still, live in the present.

We tend to forget life learnings as an outcome of a hectic template-led life which is plagued with continuous and mindless application of self in a rather superficial but consuming manner. Amidst the glamour of a cosmopolitan millennial lifestyle, I'd gotten quite out of touch with myself.

The isolation made sure, only demons showed up from deep inside my mind. Angels were clearly quarantined some place away. Demons destruct will and judgement. Causing pity, pain and frustration. In such states of battling once-in-a-100-years emergencies as well as personal setbacks, it's justified to lose mind (and self-confidence).

I now understand why isolation is a torture technique. 

Strangely on Christmas, I've ended up discussing everything not so Merry. The dark side of personality continues to have an upper-hand, I guess. Btw, this is conspicuous, even in the clothes I wear.


[Wardrobe Hues: 40% Black, 30% Blue, 20% White, 5% Red] - "This is an outcome of natural gravitation I feel towards these colors but I'd say it's also a 'Statement'."

 


Saturday, May 2, 2020

1st May 2020 - Romance & Love in times of Corona


Not my usual covid space but today's going to be a poem. I have been meaning to write in Hindi for a while now but just couldnt find the mind space to.

Today was surprisingly inspiring though.

Since it's also my parents' 32nd anniversary, I'll probably dedicate the poem to them:-


Shuruaat yaad nahi rehti aur ant kabhi bhoola nahi jaata
Kaisi hoti hai mohabbat, bataye koi ishaq zaada

Umangon ki nadiyaan behtin hain aur moh moh ke jharne
Geet gaati hai duniya saari aur hawa chalti hai aah bharne

Ek pal mein kabhi ek umr hi jee lete hain, kabhi umr bhar bhi nahi jiya jaata
Kaisi hoti hai mohabbat, bataye koi ishaq zaada

Jab zindagi sapno se bhi khoobsoorat ban jaye, to neend kise kab aayegi
Jab tadap bhi raas aane lag jaaye, to sharaab bhi nahi lubhaayegi

Kal tak hum ajnabi thay, ab saaya bhi mera tum se aata
Kaisi hoti hai mohabbat, bataye koi ishaq zaada



Sunday, April 26, 2020

26th APRIL 2020 – 33rd DAY OF COMPLETE LOCK-DOWN OF INDIA: HOPE | DESPAIR | DREAMS


44TH DAY OF MY SOCIAL ISOLATION

26,496 POSITIVE, 824 DEAD, 5804 RECOVERED

General Feeling: “We are tucked away comfortably in our homes while millions fight disease, hunger and depression. Food, security of life and basic life necessities like clean water, shelter, sanitation and personal hygiene are luxuries that we can write about in our blog posts and speeches. However there are some among us who are tirelessly working towards doing their bit. They are pushing their capacities to do the right thing. Putting themselves on the line to save many others. This display of courage and humanity can save us from being a total failure of a society. If you can, with whatever you can, please help. And like I’ve been iterating, donate to smaller organizations who you can audit for yourselves.”

I have so much to say but so little time. However today is a Sunday and I have prioritized this over all other tasks I have for today. I am going to divide this blog into three parts which are distinct, yet connected with the thread of COVID and myself.

Hope & Prepare

(Alert: Nerd paragraphs ahead)

The entire world has pinned its hope on a safe & effective vaccine to fight the Corona virus. Across the world, there are about 70 contenders for such a vaccine which are undergoing tests & trials at various stages. Almost all of them are re-worked versions of existing vaccines for different viruses – MERS, SARS, EBOLA, BCG etc. It’s easier to develop a vaccine from existing ones rather than starting all from scratch – that may take a mighty long time which we may not have at our disposal.

Among them, the front runners are 3 vaccines – Hydroxychloroquine (HCQ – it’s the same one Trump made such a deal about without knowing much about science and coerced India to export millions of it to the US), Remdesivir – an anti-viral drug used to treat HIV positive patients (just two days back in a Chinese study, this failed to produce effective results but the company that produces it, Gilead and some analysts disagree), BCG – a long trusted friend of humanity which has saved millions from Tuberculosis, is a safe, strong and effective vaccine – and is being tested to see whether it can really help the Corona situation.

However apart from these three is a fourth and a very interesting candidate – ChAdOx1. Already under ‘human trials’ in Germany and UK, it’s being developed by University of Oxford with claims that if found effective, it would be ready for mass production and consumption by September. As per experts this vaccine candidate has 80% chance of success. What separates it from other contenders is that is the only possible vaccine that can hope to see the light of the day this year while all others if at all found effective, will be ready for mass consumption only sometime next year.

If this works out, it would mean that we would have saved not just a lot of lives, but stopped further economic gloom by ease of lock-downs. Spur in economic activity is bound to improve employment rates and in turn will reduce hunger, distress and death.

Having said that we must remember that we may NEVER find a safe and effective vaccine for COVID-19. It’s a possibility that we must be aware of and prepare for. This will mean a very different world and a very different ‘normal’. The sooner we prepare our minds for it, the easier will we be prepared for a new world order.

Education - Tool for Social Change

I connected with a friend I had met 8 years ago on Jagriti Yatra. I remembered him as a friendly guy from Madhya Pradesh who ran a school for tribal children.  We used to jam quite a bit in our journey and he had deep voice that sang ‘Baawra Mann’ perfectly. Shweta, he and I were good friends. However he saw me off at Ahmedabad station in January 2012 and we never spoke after that. We continued being Facebook friends and shared just about a couple of hellos until this Friday when we found the time to speak over a phone call.

He has been doing some amazing work at his organization called Argini (http://agrini.org/) – which has taken upon the task of imparting education to the tribal and marginalized children of the MP – Maharashtra border at Teoni. For ten years this man has dedicated his life to using education as a tool for social change. He is an engineer who gave up lofty dreams of MBA or the Corporate or stable love and family life to dedicate himself to a larger cause of society and country. He travelled across the world to understand educational systems of rich and poor countries alike and bring back his learnings to India. He and his team are now completely dedicated to proving relief to migrant workers, children and women during the COVID crisis as the border town of Teoni sees huge migration across the state borders.

The public school run by Agrini at Teoni, Madhya Pradesh

He is also someone who understands that hatred breeds hatred and fear only has negative outcomes. Today the narrative around lock-down is of fear. Actually, corona or not, today the narrative around the country is of fear.

Fear of speaking against the government and being witch-hunted as an ‘anti-national’.
Fear of fundamentalism.
Fear of lynching.
Fear of practicing one’s faith.
Fear of all those things that we were not supposed to be fearful of.

The spirit of our country is embedded in our constitution. And while most of us won’t have the time to study the whole text of it, at-least refer to the Preamble of our constitution which is the key to understanding and deciphering it.


My friend, Gourav Jaiswal, is also thinking on lines of how education can be a tool for political change. At the same time he’s aware that political change alone will not serve anything. An ideological change in the country (and the world) is required. How does one fuel such a change? Especially commoners like us who have no power or money to tilt anything. The answer is complicated but perhaps lies in basic simple understanding of human psychology. He says we need the right communication strategy to bring about a lasting ideological change – a change which breeds love, freedom, empathy and creativity.

This is Gourav. 

We also spoke of our personal lives. A lot has happened for both of us in these 8 years and 2 hours of conversation were not enough to even touch the tip of the ice-berg. However, we were happy to connect and I am glad that this lock-down has gotten me in touch with so many of those, who I’d been too busy for. Life is made beautiful by people we meet. Remembering them and learning from them often feeds into our spiritual needs. This conversation was that fulfilling for me.

I am now going to try and help him raise funds for his organization which is committed to help the voiceless and the helpless during these cruel times.

Dreams and the Subconscious

Anyone who knows me closely, knows that I’ve had an almost consistent history of extremely vivid dreams. I have spent hours narrating details of so many of my dreams to family & friends. One such dream is a blog post (and chapter 1 of  my unfinished book) as well!!


In the last three days, I’ve had two extremely vivid dreams.

On Friday morning, I woke up feeling stressed. I had dreamt of having a miscarriage. With only my parents by my side, helpless and trying to call for help at a hospital guest-house with no doctor attending to their child. We were somewhere close to Indore (I don’t know why Indore). However given the COVID crisis, there was no help. The staff was less and very busy. The doctors were few. And even though we belong to a rather privileged class, no amount of money could get us help. The dream ended with all of us desperately trying and praying for help while there was none.

I woke up wondering what that dream meant. Was it an outcome of work stress? Was it an outcome of news stories I read about non-COVID patients dying due to lack of medical attention? Was it an outcome of a specific incident that took place in Bharatpur (Rajasthan) a week back where a Muslim woman who was about to deliver was denied entry in a government hospital due to her religion?

(Irresponsible media sensationalism and fake news has built an image of Muslims as perpetrators of Covid infection after the whole Tablighi Jamaat incident blew up across the country.)

She had a miscarriage at the entry of the hospital. She was beaten and made to clean her own blood. This is the state of affairs. How can one beat a woman who had miscarriaged? How do you look at someone’s faith in a situation like this?

Why do we forget that a woman who’s bringing a life to this world is transcending something between the material and mortal universes?



As if this dream was not intense enough, last night I dream of being in his arms.
I have been to his home town once for real. We were supposed to drive there sometime during the monsoons. I could never really happen. (Like so many of our trips could never really happen). I was at his place with a few other friends. I had never been to his house before. It was a small but a very neat place. He had wrapped up everything from elsewhere and moved back home. In his luggage I saw some of my dresses. I was happy to find those pieces which were missing from my wardrobe. They had accidentally made way to his luggage. How I didn’t know. But I was happy to find my clothes and find myself at his place.

The dream felt unreal for I felt so safe and relaxed after such a long time.

A dream like this after so many years rattles you and leaves you wondering whether you’ve indeed been able to pick up all your pieces.  It also leaves you wondering whether you do really want to dust off everything.

I have tried to do the wrong things. The risky things our heart motivates us towards. I have tried to do the right things. The ones that the world preaches. I have lived by my instincts as well by the rules. Neither of the attempts has been truly successful.

Therefore, perhaps I should look within and search for my answers. In my sub-conscious.

Until the next post, only think love & peace.

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

22nd APRIL 2020 – 29th DAY OF COMPLETE LOCK-DOWN OF INDIA


40TH DAY OF MY SOCIAL ISOLATION

20,471 POSITIVE, 3,960 RECOVERED, 652 DEAD


General Feeling: “Not every day does one experience intense emotions. Today seemed like a rather dull day except for the fact that I felt very aware of myself and my surroundings. By surroundings, I mostly mean people I work with, my friends and family. I felt aware that everyone is going through a rough patch in their own way. People living with parents, people living without them. Those with company and those alone. So it’s in best interest of everyone to cut some slack and show some love.”

I’ve never been a morning person but this week my morning mood has been excessively awful. The first thought after waking up is “what to fix for breakfast” and it’s certainly not too pleasant. Instead of finding time to relax and soak in the morning sun with a cup of kadak chai, it’s juggling between breakfast, dishes and starting off with work. The days when I am supposed to do common chores is particularly stressful.

I am telling myself to be calm and thankful, nevertheless. I can display my humanity now. Next week I’ll turn into a crying child or a raging monster. Yes, that’s right. The PMS week will be here and by no means is it going to be quiet. The noise in my head will annoy the shit out of me. I don’t even know what people who interact with me go through, when I PMS. For years, I’ve warned boyfriends and parents to not pick up fights with me when I’m PMSing. Since no one really gets it (except mom), I’ve resolved to speaking minimum when I am down or about to be down. That’s the best I can do. Isolate and shut-up. And the lock-down totally helps.

What I also feel aware of is the fact, that time is indeed cyclical. Good and bad times alternate as they come and go. Of all the uncertainty that’s present in our lives, the ‘passage of time’ is indeed certain. I remember my mother reading out ‘Satyanarayan Katha’ in which one of the verses said -

“acche ke baad bura, bure ka baad accha samay aata hi hai”

This thought can keep us going, in the most difficult of times. People may argue that these stories and epics are not logical references. That’s fine. I really don’t care about the reference. Sometimes we should submit our obsession with sources. We should instead focus on the message and the thought. This thought holds universal validity. Time, unlike love, is cyclical.

However memories that time creates tend to fade and sometimes it becomes necessary for one to talk about his or her life to someone or write about it to keep a coherent record of events and feelings. We, amidst our emotions tend to forget a lot of our own sorrows. And unless someone reminds us of how we felt and what we went through, our hearts become way too forgiving. Therefore I often take the pain to talk about my pain and sorrows to my loved ones. It’s not just sharing. It’s also healing.

Anyway, I do want to mention that COVID is here to stay longer than we want to believe. I’ve been reading excessively on how likely it is for us to find a safe and effective vaccine to fight the COVID-19. And if found, how early will it be available in mass proportions for the world. I’ll do a summary of it soon. Hopefully, this weekend. But one thing I do want to put forward right away is that the vaccine is not happening anytime soon.

Also there’s a good chance we may never find a vaccine. “We do not find vaccines against all viruses”, said the director of CDC, Washington. And it’s something to be cognizant of. Therefore the best strategy is to delay the infection, maintain its curve, bolster our healthcare facilities and boost our immunities.

And by the way, immunity is not something you can build in a matter of days or weeks. Sure, one should quit smoking. Sure, one should eat healthy food. But a lot more goes into having a good immunity. It’s not how much one exercises and the BMI one maintains.

It’s dependent on factors that may seem abstract to the layman. It’s a blend of genes, sleep, happiness factor, stress level, existing disorders, past operations, drugs you’ve ingested, food you’ve eaten over your life, temperatures you’ve lived in, etc. etc.

It’s more complicated than we think and our gym trainers or dieticians tell us. I know this because I’ve binge read a lot of stuff. I love to provide links to most information I mention in my posts. But like I said earlier, it’s not about the source or references sometimes. It’s something that must appeal to your common sense. If you know your mind and your body, you should know this.

Awareness, whether about time that has gone by or yet to come is some-what important but difficult.
Awareness, about our present and today is most significant. And hence 'living in the moment' has been a cliché for quite a while.

Mindfulness as a concept tries to teach you this. Yoga does too. But so do simple day-to-day activities which may not sound fancy. Cooking, cleaning, crafting. Making anything with your hands. Something tangible which is an output of your productive genius makes you live in the moment and that is highly fulfilling.

Maybe Marx tried to say this in an entirely different context.

Looking forward to the weekend already.


This is my bed in a hotel room of Seoul. I loved sleeping here. And I wish I lived in that moment so much more than I did. 



Until the next post (cant’ even say ‘tomorrow’ anymore), please ‘live-in-the-moment’




Poetry: Pink Lipstick

I put on a pink lipstick and curled my hair Wore my heels and slit in my skirt, without a care Chin up and chest out, I walked towa...