When I was a kid, I often saw my father help a child polishing shoes by the roadside or the sweeper picking up the garbage or the poor child whose clothes seemed torn or... Well, the list could go on.
I found this a most remarkable and energizing influence in our family life. This ability to give freely and wholeheartedly may not have been unique to my family but the manner in which it was done was extraordinary.
My father was not so rich that he could just throw away money. Yet he maintained that we were among the more fortunate blessed by Almighty and we must always be grateful for this. We must do what we can, when we can, and where we can- as much as we can. Most importantly, we must do... for doing... not for the results- the fame or the reputation or the money... We must feel the need that we fulfill for others and we would indeed feel fulfilled ourselves.
It was a strange philosophy but it taught us that a good deed was from the heart... not for any ends. His classical advice was that your left hand must not get to know that your right has done something good.
When I see so many people sharing about the good deed for the day, I wonder... When one hand must not know that the other has given, how do people share their 'good' deeds? Do people do good for doing good or for bragging that they did?
I do my share of 'doing good'. I follow my father's advice. I do not talk about it.
I think it cuts both ways. Maybe, as a single person, doing my little bit I am not making earth shattering difference to the world. But to the few who are touched by me, and the few who touch me, each experience is profound.
Do you like to 'brag' you did something good? Or you ... just... do... it??
Do you have it in you?
Remember the Incy Wincy spider? It has been one of the most lasting nursery rhymes even in my children's memory. Incy Wincy climbs up the spout and the rain washes him out. When the rain is over and the sun is drying up everything... Incy starts on the climb again.
Persistence.
Stick-to- it-iveness.
And Resilience.
Observe the spider building its web- thread by flimsy thread. The work of art may take some time to build but it always looks awesome. (We...lll...!!! It inspires the kind of feeling you look at it with!)
And were you to compare the web's strength with what we percieve to be one of Modern man's stronger inventions- steel... we would find the web is stronger. If you take enough threads of the web and bind them together to the same diameter as the steel cable you want to use for the comparision. Something about the Young's Modulus as I remember from my high school days. You might break the steel cable but the web? Nah!
Have you ever seen a spider trying to find its way up a bathroom sink or the kitchen sink? It is diligently working its way up the slope, slipping, going back up, slipping again and keeping on going. The spider does that. Admirable. The you turn the tap on and the water starts flowing. The spider has now to move against the current. What does it do? Does it give up and flow with the current, go down the drain, quite literally? No, sir! Not the spider. The spider digs its "heels" in and just hangs on. The spider does not struggle against the deluge. It does not try to fight against the current. It does not waste its energy. It stops. Period.
The tap is turned off and the spider starts crawling again.
Even Dory had this to tell everyone in "Finding Nemo"- Just keep on swimming...
And Nike? Just do it! Nike's words have been an inspiration for countless people all over the globe ever since 1988. It has been one of the longest running campaigns. nike defines what the central philosophy for any achiever should be. Just... Do... It...
There will be times when you feel everything is going your way. You are unstoppable. Nothing can go wrong and nothing does. There are other times when nothing is going your way and you just cannot break the inertia of being a dead weight. Everything is bleak. If life did not have its ups and downs, it would not be life. The EKG that represents the heart's activity also keeps going up and down. A flat EKG is death.
So be like the spider. Dig in if you can not do anything else. Stop everything that you are doing and rally your energy, gather all your force... wait... Then- Just do it!
Persistence.
Stick-to- it-iveness.
And Resilience.
Observe the spider building its web- thread by flimsy thread. The work of art may take some time to build but it always looks awesome. (We...lll...!!! It inspires the kind of feeling you look at it with!)
And were you to compare the web's strength with what we percieve to be one of Modern man's stronger inventions- steel... we would find the web is stronger. If you take enough threads of the web and bind them together to the same diameter as the steel cable you want to use for the comparision. Something about the Young's Modulus as I remember from my high school days. You might break the steel cable but the web? Nah!
Have you ever seen a spider trying to find its way up a bathroom sink or the kitchen sink? It is diligently working its way up the slope, slipping, going back up, slipping again and keeping on going. The spider does that. Admirable. The you turn the tap on and the water starts flowing. The spider has now to move against the current. What does it do? Does it give up and flow with the current, go down the drain, quite literally? No, sir! Not the spider. The spider digs its "heels" in and just hangs on. The spider does not struggle against the deluge. It does not try to fight against the current. It does not waste its energy. It stops. Period.
The tap is turned off and the spider starts crawling again.
Even Dory had this to tell everyone in "Finding Nemo"- Just keep on swimming...
And Nike? Just do it! Nike's words have been an inspiration for countless people all over the globe ever since 1988. It has been one of the longest running campaigns. nike defines what the central philosophy for any achiever should be. Just... Do... It...
There will be times when you feel everything is going your way. You are unstoppable. Nothing can go wrong and nothing does. There are other times when nothing is going your way and you just cannot break the inertia of being a dead weight. Everything is bleak. If life did not have its ups and downs, it would not be life. The EKG that represents the heart's activity also keeps going up and down. A flat EKG is death.
So be like the spider. Dig in if you can not do anything else. Stop everything that you are doing and rally your energy, gather all your force... wait... Then- Just do it!
When did it all change?
This is a real sms I received from a friend... It set me thinking... When did it all change? And did it change for all? Are there more people out there who really are doing what they wanted to do all along? Is this just mid-life crisis? Have a look...
I am sitting 'n thinking
thinking hard about life. How it changed from a simple college life to the strict professional life.
How the pocket money changed to huge pay cheques. But the happiness became as little as the pay cheque became bigger.
How the local jeans changed to new branded wardrobe but there are less occasions to wear these clothes.
How a single plate of samosas changed to a full pizza but there is less hunger for food and more for something to do.
How the bike always in reserve changed to a car with a full tank- always on and ready to go. Only there are no more places that we want to go.
How the ta by the road side changed to Cafe Coffee Day/ Barrista... but the thirst is never satisfied and the shops are always so far away.
How the limited prepaid card in the mobile changed to post paid limitless package but we have less people that we really want to call up and talk to.
How a general bus ride changed to third class train tickets to First class AC to flights... but there are less vacations for enjoyment and more of those business trips that we do not want to make.
Further, this friend goes on to say...
I want to go back to the time when "getting high " meant "on a swing"
... when " drinking" meant Coke or even Fanta
... when dad was the only hero
... when "love" was a heart felt hug from mom
... when "dad's shoulder" was the highest place on earth
... when "worst enemy" was your sibling who fought with you
... when the things that "hurt" were skinned knees
... when the only things "broken" were your toys
... when "goodbyes" meant "See you tomorrow"
Anyone out there who feels like this?
Anyone out there who wants to change the way they are living but find their "life" pulling them deeper and deeper into the quagmire we have begun to call "life- style"?
Anyone who wants to make a difference?
Anyone who wants to reconnect? with life and love and sibling rivalry and the rest?
Please...
Come forward...
Let us start a movement...
We can... can we not?
I am sitting 'n thinking
thinking hard about life. How it changed from a simple college life to the strict professional life.
How the pocket money changed to huge pay cheques. But the happiness became as little as the pay cheque became bigger.
How the local jeans changed to new branded wardrobe but there are less occasions to wear these clothes.
How a single plate of samosas changed to a full pizza but there is less hunger for food and more for something to do.
How the bike always in reserve changed to a car with a full tank- always on and ready to go. Only there are no more places that we want to go.
How the ta by the road side changed to Cafe Coffee Day/ Barrista... but the thirst is never satisfied and the shops are always so far away.
How the limited prepaid card in the mobile changed to post paid limitless package but we have less people that we really want to call up and talk to.
How a general bus ride changed to third class train tickets to First class AC to flights... but there are less vacations for enjoyment and more of those business trips that we do not want to make.
Further, this friend goes on to say...
I want to go back to the time when "getting high " meant "on a swing"
... when " drinking" meant Coke or even Fanta
... when dad was the only hero
... when "love" was a heart felt hug from mom
... when "dad's shoulder" was the highest place on earth
... when "worst enemy" was your sibling who fought with you
... when the things that "hurt" were skinned knees
... when the only things "broken" were your toys
... when "goodbyes" meant "See you tomorrow"
Anyone out there who feels like this?
Anyone out there who wants to change the way they are living but find their "life" pulling them deeper and deeper into the quagmire we have begun to call "life- style"?
Anyone who wants to make a difference?
Anyone who wants to reconnect? with life and love and sibling rivalry and the rest?
Please...
Come forward...
Let us start a movement...
We can... can we not?
What kind of a world are we living in?
16 year old school boy killed by gym instructor! Screamed the headlines. The roar was deafening and the pain immeasurable. What could be the reason for this senseless killing?
The abductors were known to the victim. They met him at the local gym he went to. One of them was even a twice over Mr Delhi. "All for a few dollars more"? Abductetd a mere forty meters from home! Are our children safe anywhere?
What can we do as parents and responsible citizens to make this world a safer place for our children?
Educate them. Worry not about the effect such education can have on their innocence. It is needed to equip them with the knowledge that there are times to raise alarm and times to fight back. They need to know that such elements that can harm them may be atlarge and nothing can replace them.
Train them. The children need to be well trained in the art of self defence. Any such art not only strengthens their body, it also trains their mind towards resilience and focus. In a country like Israel, where each citizen goes through the army training, no one can touch a woman or a child and get away with it without punishment. This type of training also instills a discipline and law abiding population.
Be alert. Adults need to be alert, too. Someone who saw the incident could have thwarted the attempt. It can happen to anyone. My children. Your children. Anyone. If you see anything extraordinary, trust your own instinct as much as you want the children to trust theirs. Do not be afraid to raise alarm or even rush to the defnce of a threatened citizen- man, woman or child.
Demand accountability. If even half of our working population in India just started doing their own work , our society would be remarkable. If we want security agencies to provide security, we should not accept any less from our Government and from the police. We should, at the same time, also take responsibility for our own micro environments and ensure local safety in zones of influence aound us.When you demand, have the sense of responsibility to give in equal measure- both co-operation and social justice and accountability.
Stand together. We have suffered for ages because we were busy fighting each other. This allowed outsiders to invade and stay on so easily and for so long that we lost our own sense of self worth and strength. It is now time to start small groups of togetherness that can start a movement that spreads like a forest fire- slow to start but with a very little effort and very little wind gets out of control.
WE NEED TO MAKE OUR LOCALITY, OUR CITY, OUR COUNTRY A SAFER PLACE .
And only we can do that. Not our police. Not our government.
If each one of us is able to encourage just three to five people to respond to the situation with courage and resilience, and each of those is further able to do it with as many more, we will have started a movement that will be unstoppable.
I will. Will you? And you? And you?
The abductors were known to the victim. They met him at the local gym he went to. One of them was even a twice over Mr Delhi. "All for a few dollars more"? Abductetd a mere forty meters from home! Are our children safe anywhere?
What can we do as parents and responsible citizens to make this world a safer place for our children?
Educate them. Worry not about the effect such education can have on their innocence. It is needed to equip them with the knowledge that there are times to raise alarm and times to fight back. They need to know that such elements that can harm them may be atlarge and nothing can replace them.
Train them. The children need to be well trained in the art of self defence. Any such art not only strengthens their body, it also trains their mind towards resilience and focus. In a country like Israel, where each citizen goes through the army training, no one can touch a woman or a child and get away with it without punishment. This type of training also instills a discipline and law abiding population.
Be alert. Adults need to be alert, too. Someone who saw the incident could have thwarted the attempt. It can happen to anyone. My children. Your children. Anyone. If you see anything extraordinary, trust your own instinct as much as you want the children to trust theirs. Do not be afraid to raise alarm or even rush to the defnce of a threatened citizen- man, woman or child.
Demand accountability. If even half of our working population in India just started doing their own work , our society would be remarkable. If we want security agencies to provide security, we should not accept any less from our Government and from the police. We should, at the same time, also take responsibility for our own micro environments and ensure local safety in zones of influence aound us.When you demand, have the sense of responsibility to give in equal measure- both co-operation and social justice and accountability.
Stand together. We have suffered for ages because we were busy fighting each other. This allowed outsiders to invade and stay on so easily and for so long that we lost our own sense of self worth and strength. It is now time to start small groups of togetherness that can start a movement that spreads like a forest fire- slow to start but with a very little effort and very little wind gets out of control.
WE NEED TO MAKE OUR LOCALITY, OUR CITY, OUR COUNTRY A SAFER PLACE .
And only we can do that. Not our police. Not our government.
If each one of us is able to encourage just three to five people to respond to the situation with courage and resilience, and each of those is further able to do it with as many more, we will have started a movement that will be unstoppable.
I will. Will you? And you? And you?
Now back to the trigger...
And as promised, I shall get back to the original train of thoughts...
When an organism's body is invaded by foreign living matter- virus or bacteria etc, it gets sick. The body mounts a reaction to fight and kill the invaders. The invaders are harmful to the body because they compete for the same resources for survival and sustenance. The body, as in humans, for example ( this is easy to visualize), we mount a reaction of fever, depletion and tiredness. We may throw up and vomit, we may collapse from lack of energy and eventually, if we are not able to kill the invader, we get killed.
Now, consider the macrocosm... the universe. We are invading the earth, competing for the same resources that make the earth what it is. We are simply taking away and not replacing- like parasites that invade our bodies. The earth is fighting back! The fever (global warming) and the throwing up ( floods, volcanoes) and the trembling (earthquakes) are happening more and more.
Either the earth will succeed in surviving, will kill the parasitic invader who is becoming a nemesis or will die out taking the invading organism (us) with it!
Who or what is to say that we are primary forms of life and the bacteria/viruses that cause the flu or the malaria or the meningitis have any less right to survival than us? What makes our killing these with vaccines and antibiotics justifiable and their life killing us unjustifiable. And what makes the earth any less living than any of us? What if the earth is an entity that has been infected by us whereas the other planets are pristine and healthy? Living and pulsating entities?
Is that not an interesting point of view? A really fantastic leap from the microcosm to the macrocosm?
Either we must learn to survive in a symbiotic relationship, whereby we contribute as much to the earth's survival as we take away from her or we must perish- whether the earth's immune reaction kills us or her own death takes our lives away, too.
When an organism's body is invaded by foreign living matter- virus or bacteria etc, it gets sick. The body mounts a reaction to fight and kill the invaders. The invaders are harmful to the body because they compete for the same resources for survival and sustenance. The body, as in humans, for example ( this is easy to visualize), we mount a reaction of fever, depletion and tiredness. We may throw up and vomit, we may collapse from lack of energy and eventually, if we are not able to kill the invader, we get killed.
Now, consider the macrocosm... the universe. We are invading the earth, competing for the same resources that make the earth what it is. We are simply taking away and not replacing- like parasites that invade our bodies. The earth is fighting back! The fever (global warming) and the throwing up ( floods, volcanoes) and the trembling (earthquakes) are happening more and more.
Either the earth will succeed in surviving, will kill the parasitic invader who is becoming a nemesis or will die out taking the invading organism (us) with it!
Who or what is to say that we are primary forms of life and the bacteria/viruses that cause the flu or the malaria or the meningitis have any less right to survival than us? What makes our killing these with vaccines and antibiotics justifiable and their life killing us unjustifiable. And what makes the earth any less living than any of us? What if the earth is an entity that has been infected by us whereas the other planets are pristine and healthy? Living and pulsating entities?
Is that not an interesting point of view? A really fantastic leap from the microcosm to the macrocosm?
Either we must learn to survive in a symbiotic relationship, whereby we contribute as much to the earth's survival as we take away from her or we must perish- whether the earth's immune reaction kills us or her own death takes our lives away, too.
Life? What really is it?
Something my husband said the other day set me thinking...
We, as doctors can have an objective view of often distressing issues and can effectively detach our emotions from some situations while maintaining a mental involvement with them. This allows us to avoid DIStress and deal with other's illnesses more objectively.
After more than fifteen years of being a doctor, I have not been able to master the art of detachment. I still cry with a sick child and still feel sorry for a dying patient. I still feel fascinated by the enigma of what really changes in the moment of death.
I have always been fascinated by the question... It is the same chemicals, arranged in the same visible formation and yet in one moment the 'electricity' goes off! The Hydrogen, Oxygen, Nitrogen, carbon, etc are still there. But the vital force simply... switches off.
Where is the switch?
Where is the source? and where does it go? Does the body change in any way other than losing its ... aaahhh... LIFE?
Interestingly, there was a study done by some scientists to find out if they could identify the entity called LIFE. They found out that the body becomes fourteen to twenty grams lighter in the moment of death! The obvious conclusion was that the soul is something that weighs as much!
It is as difficult to solve the mystery of mind and the brain... The structure that is nearly ninety percent water, looks like a dirty jelly, is protected by our skull, and appears to be the seat of control of all our bodily functions, works through endless, ceaseless electrical activity, the tiny currents drive innumerable chemicals through microchannels- This STRUCTURE is the brain. The thoughts and the activity, the feelings and the consciousness, even the subconsciousness- are the MIND.
The hardware is the body. The software? Life?
Random thoughts, these. The trigger? Left somewhere in the maze of my mind. I might write about it next... Are we infecting the earth?
We, as doctors can have an objective view of often distressing issues and can effectively detach our emotions from some situations while maintaining a mental involvement with them. This allows us to avoid DIStress and deal with other's illnesses more objectively.
After more than fifteen years of being a doctor, I have not been able to master the art of detachment. I still cry with a sick child and still feel sorry for a dying patient. I still feel fascinated by the enigma of what really changes in the moment of death.
I have always been fascinated by the question... It is the same chemicals, arranged in the same visible formation and yet in one moment the 'electricity' goes off! The Hydrogen, Oxygen, Nitrogen, carbon, etc are still there. But the vital force simply... switches off.
Where is the switch?
Where is the source? and where does it go? Does the body change in any way other than losing its ... aaahhh... LIFE?
Interestingly, there was a study done by some scientists to find out if they could identify the entity called LIFE. They found out that the body becomes fourteen to twenty grams lighter in the moment of death! The obvious conclusion was that the soul is something that weighs as much!
It is as difficult to solve the mystery of mind and the brain... The structure that is nearly ninety percent water, looks like a dirty jelly, is protected by our skull, and appears to be the seat of control of all our bodily functions, works through endless, ceaseless electrical activity, the tiny currents drive innumerable chemicals through microchannels- This STRUCTURE is the brain. The thoughts and the activity, the feelings and the consciousness, even the subconsciousness- are the MIND.
The hardware is the body. The software? Life?
Random thoughts, these. The trigger? Left somewhere in the maze of my mind. I might write about it next... Are we infecting the earth?
English? Logical!?
Can anyone let me know who thought up this masterpiece? It found its way into my mailbox. Anonymous! It always brings a smile to my face! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Most of the rules of English have exceptions! IS it not?
ENJOY!!!
I take it you already know,
Of tough and bough and cough and dough.
Others may stumble, but not you,
On hiccough, thorough, laugh and through.
Well done! And now you wish, perhaps,
To learn of less familiar traps. Beware of heard, a dreadful word,
That looks like beard and sounds like bird.
And dead - it’s said like bed, not bead,
For goodness’ sake, don’t call it ‘deed’!
Watch out for meat and great and threat,
(They rhyme with suite and straight and debt). A moth is not a moth in mother,
Nor both in bother, broth in brother.
And here is not a match for there,
Nor dear and fear for bear and pear.
And then there’s dose and rose and lose –
Just look them up – and goose and choose.
And cork and work and card and ward,
And font and front and word and sword. And do and go and thwart and cart –
Come, come, I’ve hardly made a start! A dreadful language? Why man alive!
I’d mastered it when I was five.
Most of the rules of English have exceptions! IS it not?
ENJOY!!!
I take it you already know,
Of tough and bough and cough and dough.
Others may stumble, but not you,
On hiccough, thorough, laugh and through.
Well done! And now you wish, perhaps,
To learn of less familiar traps. Beware of heard, a dreadful word,
That looks like beard and sounds like bird.
And dead - it’s said like bed, not bead,
For goodness’ sake, don’t call it ‘deed’!
Watch out for meat and great and threat,
(They rhyme with suite and straight and debt). A moth is not a moth in mother,
Nor both in bother, broth in brother.
And here is not a match for there,
Nor dear and fear for bear and pear.
And then there’s dose and rose and lose –
Just look them up – and goose and choose.
And cork and work and card and ward,
And font and front and word and sword. And do and go and thwart and cart –
Come, come, I’ve hardly made a start! A dreadful language? Why man alive!
I’d mastered it when I was five.
The woman in Red!
We were at a pool in Pokhara... Our daughter was still experimenting with water and would not let us swim to our heart's desire. This had a flip side. We saw a lot... and learned much about what makes people the people they are!
The object of our attention that day ( apart, ofcourse from the little lady in pink- our princess) was an old lady wearing a red bikini. She looked at least seventy, if not more. She was in a deep conversation with a young man, oblivious of all others around her.
She suddenly moved to the side of the pool and instead of reaching for the stairwell, she reached for the side slab, did a smart hand stand and gracefully pulled her legs over, getting out of the pool like a smart cat. The only thing left for her to do was shake her body and hair to drip water in all directions around her. She was a pleasure to watch. What she did next was extraordinary. She reached for the diving board, and did a somersault, flipping in mid-air, landed like a professional diver, head following outstretched arms in a flawless splash free dive that was breath-taking. She was explaining to the young man how to dive!
I struck a conversation with this grand lady.
As it turned out, we had grossly underestimated her age. She was well over eighty- nearly ninety. She was traveling alone. She loved to swim. She was teaching the young man less than one fourth her age how to dive. And she loved the colour red.
And even more extraordinary was her background! She had had a heart valve replacement surgery, a gall bladder removal, a hysterectomy, cataract, a total hip replacement and even a varicose vein stripping. She was in her own words- brand new!!! She had had all the malfunctioning parts either removed or replaced, she laughed.
I hope that we are able to keep our enthusiasm for living and our love of life as alive as this lady.
I do not know her name, I know not her nationality. I do not even know if she is alive now- this encounter was way back in 1999/2000. I do know however, that she is not dead! She will never die!
As someone great has said- life is not a five star existence whereby you arrive well preserved in a dress suit to meet your maker. Rather it should be an exciting journey whereby you arrive skidding, with greased elbows and bruised knees, a happy smile on your face and say with a satisfied smile, " Phew! what a journey!"
The object of our attention that day ( apart, ofcourse from the little lady in pink- our princess) was an old lady wearing a red bikini. She looked at least seventy, if not more. She was in a deep conversation with a young man, oblivious of all others around her.
She suddenly moved to the side of the pool and instead of reaching for the stairwell, she reached for the side slab, did a smart hand stand and gracefully pulled her legs over, getting out of the pool like a smart cat. The only thing left for her to do was shake her body and hair to drip water in all directions around her. She was a pleasure to watch. What she did next was extraordinary. She reached for the diving board, and did a somersault, flipping in mid-air, landed like a professional diver, head following outstretched arms in a flawless splash free dive that was breath-taking. She was explaining to the young man how to dive!
I struck a conversation with this grand lady.
As it turned out, we had grossly underestimated her age. She was well over eighty- nearly ninety. She was traveling alone. She loved to swim. She was teaching the young man less than one fourth her age how to dive. And she loved the colour red.
And even more extraordinary was her background! She had had a heart valve replacement surgery, a gall bladder removal, a hysterectomy, cataract, a total hip replacement and even a varicose vein stripping. She was in her own words- brand new!!! She had had all the malfunctioning parts either removed or replaced, she laughed.
I hope that we are able to keep our enthusiasm for living and our love of life as alive as this lady.
I do not know her name, I know not her nationality. I do not even know if she is alive now- this encounter was way back in 1999/2000. I do know however, that she is not dead! She will never die!
As someone great has said- life is not a five star existence whereby you arrive well preserved in a dress suit to meet your maker. Rather it should be an exciting journey whereby you arrive skidding, with greased elbows and bruised knees, a happy smile on your face and say with a satisfied smile, " Phew! what a journey!"
Lessons that children teach us start from the day they are born and continue through their childhood into adolescence onto that imperceptible crossover into adulthood. It is not as if a switch is thrown suddenly at the strike of the midnight hour on their eighteenth birthday! It is a slow and gradual process that transforms a child into an adult and a teacher into a student.
At eight thirty today in the morning, passing the Old Fort on my way to work, I saw a Police Gypsy... well... Qualis! The driver was a policemen in his thirties, perhaps. the subject of my interest was, however, his 'co-pilot'! This man sitting in the front seat had propped his arm on the rolled down window and his head was resting on his arm. Resting! Quite literally. This man, this policeman, was sleeping at eight thirty am. What kind of a hard night could he have had? What kind of goons, or road rage perpetrators could he have chased? What kind of accident victims could he have ferried to the nearest hospital? What could be making him so sleepy with the sun staring him in the face at this time in the morning?
Coming back to the children... Mine had woken up about two hours earlier, had a bath, eaten their morning snack, and readied themselves for the school. They were well into their "work" day!
Two hours earlier, not only have I begun my day but also that of these little children.
They wake up every morning rubbing their eyes with innocence that only a young child can accomplish. It is still the most endearing thing in the morning. Tiny hands going over tiny eyes.
" Mom I am feeling sleepy!, moans my son. We stretch and we read and try whatever else may open our eyes enough to get through with the rest of the routine, including a misting spray!
Children feel every emotion fully, live each moment fully, they are always here, NOW!
When they are happy... they laugh out LOUD NOW.
When something hurts, they wail as if there isn't going to be a tomorrow... NOW.
When they go to school, they may love it or hate it... they are not passive beings given to indifference.
And adults?
Driving the car... AND planning the first meeting in the office!
Talking... AND thinking what to say next.
Having fun... AND drifting back to that project deadline that they have to meet.
Teaching a class BUT thinking about the course to be finished!
We do need to learn a lot from our children...
Live, love, enjoy and cry fully... NOW
At eight thirty today in the morning, passing the Old Fort on my way to work, I saw a Police Gypsy... well... Qualis! The driver was a policemen in his thirties, perhaps. the subject of my interest was, however, his 'co-pilot'! This man sitting in the front seat had propped his arm on the rolled down window and his head was resting on his arm. Resting! Quite literally. This man, this policeman, was sleeping at eight thirty am. What kind of a hard night could he have had? What kind of goons, or road rage perpetrators could he have chased? What kind of accident victims could he have ferried to the nearest hospital? What could be making him so sleepy with the sun staring him in the face at this time in the morning?
Coming back to the children... Mine had woken up about two hours earlier, had a bath, eaten their morning snack, and readied themselves for the school. They were well into their "work" day!
Two hours earlier, not only have I begun my day but also that of these little children.
They wake up every morning rubbing their eyes with innocence that only a young child can accomplish. It is still the most endearing thing in the morning. Tiny hands going over tiny eyes.
" Mom I am feeling sleepy!, moans my son. We stretch and we read and try whatever else may open our eyes enough to get through with the rest of the routine, including a misting spray!
Children feel every emotion fully, live each moment fully, they are always here, NOW!
When they are happy... they laugh out LOUD NOW.
When something hurts, they wail as if there isn't going to be a tomorrow... NOW.
When they go to school, they may love it or hate it... they are not passive beings given to indifference.
And adults?
Driving the car... AND planning the first meeting in the office!
Talking... AND thinking what to say next.
Having fun... AND drifting back to that project deadline that they have to meet.
Teaching a class BUT thinking about the course to be finished!
We do need to learn a lot from our children...
Live, love, enjoy and cry fully... NOW
The nine lives of a cat!
There are people out there who are trying to lose weight.
There are children out there who are struggling to stay ahead!
There are oldies out there who want to believe in immortality and will colour their hair or have spa treatments in the hope of maintaining youthful looks and body.
There are women out there who will do anything to look bigger (or smaller).
And kids who will go on misbehaving in the unrecognised hope that they will get what they want by attracting attention any which way.
And then there are many who follow a 'guru'... in the belief that such a following will take them across the oceans of existence into eternal bliss...
All of these and many more are simply matters of the mind transferred onto some physical reality (or perceived reality). All of them are going through the same motions and trying to get out of a groove while making the same groove deeper still.
If they keep doing what got them here... how can they hope to get out!?
Suddenly a cat dashed across the road in front of my car. And jolted me out of my reverie.
What was I doing? Waking up to the shrill alarm every morning and being the alarm for my children morning after morning. Going about the day in a repeat mode day in and day out. What am I doing?
Is this not quite like the cat who dashes across the path of an oncoming vehicle and survives? She feels the thrill of doing something that challenges some aspect of reality as she is living it. And feels the thrill of victory and she does it again. She is rushing, oblivious to an oncoming car or a truck, rushing to meet her own end! A cat might have nine lives but what of the tenth instance? In her nine escapes she has learned a behaviour pattern that is dangerous, unsafe and potentially life threatening but is perceived to be safe, harmless and fun! The first few times the dash is really a dash, reflexes heightened for survival. Then... the cat is lulled into a state of overconfident complacency that ultimately ensures a hasty end to a misadventure.
All human beings behave in the same manner.
When presented with a situation, they respond in a given manner. When confronted again they respond similarly if the first was a success. This eventually becomes a learned behaviour. If this behaviour results in desirable results in terms of happiness/ material or physical gains, it becomes reinforced. Till the tenth! Then the disaster strikes and jolts us back to a reality we would much rather not face.
If we are stuck in a rut and keep doing everything the same way... we will only deepen the groove. Stay on in the same groove. Deeper still. If you want to get out... you have to stop. If you want to get out... you have to move differently. Widen rather that deepen. Create a slope that is easier to scale.
A friend recently made a very profound statement.
I had enquired, quite the usual way," How are you?"
"Moving very fast almost out of control!" His voice was somewhat drained. Tired early in the morning.
"So slow down." I suggested. It appeared so simple that it did not need to be said.
There was a thoughtful pause. His mind was actually slowing down for those few moments. Then he said, very deliberately," You know something? When we are driving and the speed picks on? It thrills us to feel the wind against our skin, to see the speedometer racing, to find all that was moving alongside fall behind one by one. We pick up more speed. Go even faster. Suddenly we realise there is a traffic signal that needs us to stop... We hit the brakes... nothing! The brakes have failed and we are in a speeding vehicle. You know what we should do at such times?"
It was a rhetoric question. One that did not need an answer from me. He was deep in thought and had allowed me the grace to witness that moment of truth for my own life.
He continued, very somberly," When you realise you are at high speed, and the brakes have failed, you move into a higher gear- the highest you can. And let the speed rise further. Then you suddenly jerk the vehicle to stop by shifting to the reverse or the first gear. The jerk is mighty. But the car will stop. That is the only way to stop when the brakes have failed."
I was amazed at the imagery. I could almost feel the wind against my own face, my own heartbeat racing with the realisation that the brakes have failed and the jerk of stopping by moving into a lower gear. Life has a way of showing us our required life lessons in its own myriad ways.
My friend continued," Well... I am speeding out of control. I have realised my brakes have failed. I cannot stop now. I have to move into the highest gear before I can jerk to a stop. With this awareness, the best that I can do is to be prepared for the jerk when it comes!"
All this happened in moments. Just a simple hello!
Thanks Babla. Hoping that your jerk is not too jerky. Hoping that the momentum carries you smoothly to whereever you want to go.
Why do we not slow down while we still can without the jerk? Why do we not withdraw ourselves from our speeding life and become spectators of the spectacle we are making of ourselves? And why do we run? Why can we not appreciate the NOW?
There are children out there who are struggling to stay ahead!
There are oldies out there who want to believe in immortality and will colour their hair or have spa treatments in the hope of maintaining youthful looks and body.
There are women out there who will do anything to look bigger (or smaller).
And kids who will go on misbehaving in the unrecognised hope that they will get what they want by attracting attention any which way.
And then there are many who follow a 'guru'... in the belief that such a following will take them across the oceans of existence into eternal bliss...
All of these and many more are simply matters of the mind transferred onto some physical reality (or perceived reality). All of them are going through the same motions and trying to get out of a groove while making the same groove deeper still.
If they keep doing what got them here... how can they hope to get out!?
Suddenly a cat dashed across the road in front of my car. And jolted me out of my reverie.
What was I doing? Waking up to the shrill alarm every morning and being the alarm for my children morning after morning. Going about the day in a repeat mode day in and day out. What am I doing?
Is this not quite like the cat who dashes across the path of an oncoming vehicle and survives? She feels the thrill of doing something that challenges some aspect of reality as she is living it. And feels the thrill of victory and she does it again. She is rushing, oblivious to an oncoming car or a truck, rushing to meet her own end! A cat might have nine lives but what of the tenth instance? In her nine escapes she has learned a behaviour pattern that is dangerous, unsafe and potentially life threatening but is perceived to be safe, harmless and fun! The first few times the dash is really a dash, reflexes heightened for survival. Then... the cat is lulled into a state of overconfident complacency that ultimately ensures a hasty end to a misadventure.
All human beings behave in the same manner.
When presented with a situation, they respond in a given manner. When confronted again they respond similarly if the first was a success. This eventually becomes a learned behaviour. If this behaviour results in desirable results in terms of happiness/ material or physical gains, it becomes reinforced. Till the tenth! Then the disaster strikes and jolts us back to a reality we would much rather not face.
If we are stuck in a rut and keep doing everything the same way... we will only deepen the groove. Stay on in the same groove. Deeper still. If you want to get out... you have to stop. If you want to get out... you have to move differently. Widen rather that deepen. Create a slope that is easier to scale.
A friend recently made a very profound statement.
I had enquired, quite the usual way," How are you?"
"Moving very fast almost out of control!" His voice was somewhat drained. Tired early in the morning.
"So slow down." I suggested. It appeared so simple that it did not need to be said.
There was a thoughtful pause. His mind was actually slowing down for those few moments. Then he said, very deliberately," You know something? When we are driving and the speed picks on? It thrills us to feel the wind against our skin, to see the speedometer racing, to find all that was moving alongside fall behind one by one. We pick up more speed. Go even faster. Suddenly we realise there is a traffic signal that needs us to stop... We hit the brakes... nothing! The brakes have failed and we are in a speeding vehicle. You know what we should do at such times?"
It was a rhetoric question. One that did not need an answer from me. He was deep in thought and had allowed me the grace to witness that moment of truth for my own life.
He continued, very somberly," When you realise you are at high speed, and the brakes have failed, you move into a higher gear- the highest you can. And let the speed rise further. Then you suddenly jerk the vehicle to stop by shifting to the reverse or the first gear. The jerk is mighty. But the car will stop. That is the only way to stop when the brakes have failed."
I was amazed at the imagery. I could almost feel the wind against my own face, my own heartbeat racing with the realisation that the brakes have failed and the jerk of stopping by moving into a lower gear. Life has a way of showing us our required life lessons in its own myriad ways.
My friend continued," Well... I am speeding out of control. I have realised my brakes have failed. I cannot stop now. I have to move into the highest gear before I can jerk to a stop. With this awareness, the best that I can do is to be prepared for the jerk when it comes!"
All this happened in moments. Just a simple hello!
Thanks Babla. Hoping that your jerk is not too jerky. Hoping that the momentum carries you smoothly to whereever you want to go.
Why do we not slow down while we still can without the jerk? Why do we not withdraw ourselves from our speeding life and become spectators of the spectacle we are making of ourselves? And why do we run? Why can we not appreciate the NOW?
What really happened that day?!
The whole chain of events started rather early in the morning. It was 4:00 AM as I discovered hitting the night light on my bed-side time-piece.
something had aroused me. I was trying to make sense of it in the foggy zone between sleep and sleep and wakefulness. If I was up at this godly hour ( In Hindu mythology, 4:00am is brahma kaal...) there had to be a good reason. I wanted so much to sleep on that wakefulness itself was a mighty effort for my brain. It was a phenomenal effort my mind was making.
Was it the dull throbbing ache I was just about beginning to perceive above and behind my right eye? Or had one of the children moved? How long has it been that I have slept a full night without a thought to or a check on how the children are at night? Are the covers on? Or have they found their place on the floor having been kicked unceremoniously? Are the children sleeping comfortably or are they huddled into an uncomfortable bundle because the chill is getting to them? Or may be that mosquito... For a mind that is struggling to sleep on, mine is in overdrive!
I flung my feet down the side of the bed. I must check if the children are fine... Ouch! The floor is cold! This pushes me a step further toward wakefulness from the twilight I am in. I reached for the kids. Sleeping. Soundly. Instinctively, I also checked for wetness on my little one's clothes. He is dry. I congratulate myself. Then I remind my sleepy brain that it is time to take him to the loo. I pick him up gently and take him to the toilet... he relieves himself and I am relieved and proud of my judgment.
As I get him back to bed, and gently lay him down again, I think back to the past few moments.
drifting back to that feeling, I wonder that there HAS to be something that woke me up... By now thw dull ache has become a definite discomfort. I sit for a while. Then I try to lie down and catch up with the missing tail end of my sleep. A futile attempt. By now, it must be time to wake up and get the children ready for school. Sure enough... the alarm goes off. I drag my hurting head and the accompanying body out of the bed, off the pillows. By now slightest of movements feels like a jerk that is directly hitting my brain. I tried hard. But I cannot go on. So I request my better half to help me- a combiflam would probably put me back into the driving seat.
To give him due credit... he did get up, go out for a glass of water, and even hand me a combiflam. Further... he told me he would drop the children to school if I could get them ready. I am fighting a losing battle now. My head feels as if it is in a vice like grip. The slightest movement hurts. I carry on. I have this feeling that the kids may not be able to make it to the school if I donot get them ready. By now, husband dear has hit the pillow again and is in blessed slumberland.
Having got the children ready, I cast one final glance at the sleeping figure on the pillow, pull myself up and ignoring the pain that has by now transformed itself into a veritable sledgehammer, I reach for the mobile phone on the bedside table and take the children to the car. Moksh also picked up his DS. He thought he could play in the car- that would wake him up sufficiently. In the car, I realise it is Sanjay's phone I have picked up! I make a mental note- I must remember the carry it back inside with me upon return. I drop the children to school, drive back home and pick up the phone, take it back inside and place it on the bedside table. Sanjay is sleeping on. On some level I am feeling teh poor me feeling and at some level I am very irritated. He did say he would drop the kids off. My head is still hurting, I have dropped the kids to school and here he is- still sleeping!
Well... I got ready and back into the car driving away, the faint resentment is still lingering on.
I try to relax, doing my deep breathing and my chanting. And relax I did. Suddenly the phone rang. I wonder when I changed my ring tone. And also that teh ring tone sounded familiar. The traffic signal at the Zoo is red. I look for the phone in my bag, take it out- and- it is off! Oh! My god!!!! Sanjay's phone... in my car... my worst nightmare is being played out. I take the call. Apologise that I have mistakenly taken his phone.
Then, I call back... "Hello! your phone is with me..." He does not let me finish. He is like a roaring thunderstorm," Why the hell you don't pick up your own phone? No! I cannot survive without my phone! Do you know how to call transfer?" He is angry- would be an understatement. The traffic cops are on the prowl. I am irritated and hurt. I want to just cut the call but I tell him, "I have almost reached the hospital- I shall come back!"
And I do go back...
Return the damn phone.
MAke a U- turn from the gate itself.
Drive back.
Do we even think what is happening to the person we are interacting with when we are busy with our own problems? Do I think? Did he?
Each word we say, each glance we cast, each sentence we leave unsaid, each promise we break, each missed moment- can change lives. It does.
Perspective is always our own. Sometimes... we ought to donn someone else's looking glasses.
something had aroused me. I was trying to make sense of it in the foggy zone between sleep and sleep and wakefulness. If I was up at this godly hour ( In Hindu mythology, 4:00am is brahma kaal...) there had to be a good reason. I wanted so much to sleep on that wakefulness itself was a mighty effort for my brain. It was a phenomenal effort my mind was making.
Was it the dull throbbing ache I was just about beginning to perceive above and behind my right eye? Or had one of the children moved? How long has it been that I have slept a full night without a thought to or a check on how the children are at night? Are the covers on? Or have they found their place on the floor having been kicked unceremoniously? Are the children sleeping comfortably or are they huddled into an uncomfortable bundle because the chill is getting to them? Or may be that mosquito... For a mind that is struggling to sleep on, mine is in overdrive!
I flung my feet down the side of the bed. I must check if the children are fine... Ouch! The floor is cold! This pushes me a step further toward wakefulness from the twilight I am in. I reached for the kids. Sleeping. Soundly. Instinctively, I also checked for wetness on my little one's clothes. He is dry. I congratulate myself. Then I remind my sleepy brain that it is time to take him to the loo. I pick him up gently and take him to the toilet... he relieves himself and I am relieved and proud of my judgment.
As I get him back to bed, and gently lay him down again, I think back to the past few moments.
drifting back to that feeling, I wonder that there HAS to be something that woke me up... By now thw dull ache has become a definite discomfort. I sit for a while. Then I try to lie down and catch up with the missing tail end of my sleep. A futile attempt. By now, it must be time to wake up and get the children ready for school. Sure enough... the alarm goes off. I drag my hurting head and the accompanying body out of the bed, off the pillows. By now slightest of movements feels like a jerk that is directly hitting my brain. I tried hard. But I cannot go on. So I request my better half to help me- a combiflam would probably put me back into the driving seat.
To give him due credit... he did get up, go out for a glass of water, and even hand me a combiflam. Further... he told me he would drop the children to school if I could get them ready. I am fighting a losing battle now. My head feels as if it is in a vice like grip. The slightest movement hurts. I carry on. I have this feeling that the kids may not be able to make it to the school if I donot get them ready. By now, husband dear has hit the pillow again and is in blessed slumberland.
Having got the children ready, I cast one final glance at the sleeping figure on the pillow, pull myself up and ignoring the pain that has by now transformed itself into a veritable sledgehammer, I reach for the mobile phone on the bedside table and take the children to the car. Moksh also picked up his DS. He thought he could play in the car- that would wake him up sufficiently. In the car, I realise it is Sanjay's phone I have picked up! I make a mental note- I must remember the carry it back inside with me upon return. I drop the children to school, drive back home and pick up the phone, take it back inside and place it on the bedside table. Sanjay is sleeping on. On some level I am feeling teh poor me feeling and at some level I am very irritated. He did say he would drop the kids off. My head is still hurting, I have dropped the kids to school and here he is- still sleeping!
Well... I got ready and back into the car driving away, the faint resentment is still lingering on.
I try to relax, doing my deep breathing and my chanting. And relax I did. Suddenly the phone rang. I wonder when I changed my ring tone. And also that teh ring tone sounded familiar. The traffic signal at the Zoo is red. I look for the phone in my bag, take it out- and- it is off! Oh! My god!!!! Sanjay's phone... in my car... my worst nightmare is being played out. I take the call. Apologise that I have mistakenly taken his phone.
Then, I call back... "Hello! your phone is with me..." He does not let me finish. He is like a roaring thunderstorm," Why the hell you don't pick up your own phone? No! I cannot survive without my phone! Do you know how to call transfer?" He is angry- would be an understatement. The traffic cops are on the prowl. I am irritated and hurt. I want to just cut the call but I tell him, "I have almost reached the hospital- I shall come back!"
And I do go back...
Return the damn phone.
MAke a U- turn from the gate itself.
Drive back.
Do we even think what is happening to the person we are interacting with when we are busy with our own problems? Do I think? Did he?
Each word we say, each glance we cast, each sentence we leave unsaid, each promise we break, each missed moment- can change lives. It does.
Perspective is always our own. Sometimes... we ought to donn someone else's looking glasses.
It was perhaps in 1995 that I read The Celestine Prophecy. It brought about a significant shift in my thinking about the world and what happens in it.
All human interactions- all interactions- are energy exchange processes. The entire Universe is a source of endless energy that we can tap into each time we quietly allow some to flow in.
But...
Human beings, especially, do not tap into a source that is all around us and can charge us endlessly. We interact with our peers, youngsters and elders in energy exchange interactions... or more appropriately competitions.
There are various types of personalities defined for the purpose of convenient identification. These may be Intimidators, Interrogators, Aloof, and the Poor Me.
Each of us starts out with a set of childhood experiences which arm us ( or disarm us) for all our future interactions. These are more like Control dramas that are played out to capture energy from the interaction. We try to control the energy and usurp a major share. We, however, do this in very personalised styles.
An INTIMIDATOR, classically, are attention seekers in an aggressive manner. They are loud and have outbursts. All those around them are constantly afraid that they may trigger an outburst of anger or even rage. They invoke feeling of fear and anxiety around themselves. They are least resisted by the POOR ME. This closely matched drama is largely passive, and presents a helpless face. The POOR ME constantly says," Do not hurt me! Look what you are doing to me." Poor me's want to make Intimidators feel guilty and stop the surge of energy outflow, thereby keeping their own.
Next is the INTERROGATOR. An Interrogator questions each little activity and breaks down spirit. These people are hostile, passive aggressive or active aggressive. Always critical of each move, they pick faults, can be perfectionist, self-righteous, skeptical. They may be highly intelligent and appear logical. But their fault picking puts everyone around them on guard. They are matched by ALOOFS, who simply guard themselves against intrusive criticisms of interrogators by closing themselves off.
ALOOFS are often caught up in their own internal world of self doubt. They invite others around them to draw them out by behaving in a closed manner. They are not only loners but very lonely... almost begging to be drawn out of their secret shells. They are the ones who wear their being different on their sleeves and use it as a constant argument to justify everything they do. Their constant refrain is that nobody understands them. Aloofs usually match up with Interrogators who would try to draw them out with questions, but they also tend to invoke Intimidators or even Poor Me's because they can potentially respond to any power play by clamming up.
POOR ME is the victim- perpetual and eternal. This one wants sympathy and may occasionally slip into Aloof when they are giving the silent treatment. They are not really looking for solutions but use the problems only as points of conflict that evoke sympathy. Poor me sustain their victim status by partnering with intimidators
These control dramas usually start when the children are trying to gather their required energy from their parents. Intelligent aware parents would help the child learn to tap into nature, couple it with senstive nurture and use the Universe as the universal source of energy. The problems arise when the parents start competing with their own children because they have not given up their individual control dramas. They, then invoke a complementary control drama in their children.
Parents who have risen above the need to compete for energy, then, teach their children how to tap into the universe and teach them that such a competition is, infact, unnecessary. These parents and these children make for peaceful happy noncompeting homes.
All human interactions- all interactions- are energy exchange processes. The entire Universe is a source of endless energy that we can tap into each time we quietly allow some to flow in.
But...
Human beings, especially, do not tap into a source that is all around us and can charge us endlessly. We interact with our peers, youngsters and elders in energy exchange interactions... or more appropriately competitions.
There are various types of personalities defined for the purpose of convenient identification. These may be Intimidators, Interrogators, Aloof, and the Poor Me.
Each of us starts out with a set of childhood experiences which arm us ( or disarm us) for all our future interactions. These are more like Control dramas that are played out to capture energy from the interaction. We try to control the energy and usurp a major share. We, however, do this in very personalised styles.
An INTIMIDATOR, classically, are attention seekers in an aggressive manner. They are loud and have outbursts. All those around them are constantly afraid that they may trigger an outburst of anger or even rage. They invoke feeling of fear and anxiety around themselves. They are least resisted by the POOR ME. This closely matched drama is largely passive, and presents a helpless face. The POOR ME constantly says," Do not hurt me! Look what you are doing to me." Poor me's want to make Intimidators feel guilty and stop the surge of energy outflow, thereby keeping their own.
Next is the INTERROGATOR. An Interrogator questions each little activity and breaks down spirit. These people are hostile, passive aggressive or active aggressive. Always critical of each move, they pick faults, can be perfectionist, self-righteous, skeptical. They may be highly intelligent and appear logical. But their fault picking puts everyone around them on guard. They are matched by ALOOFS, who simply guard themselves against intrusive criticisms of interrogators by closing themselves off.
ALOOFS are often caught up in their own internal world of self doubt. They invite others around them to draw them out by behaving in a closed manner. They are not only loners but very lonely... almost begging to be drawn out of their secret shells. They are the ones who wear their being different on their sleeves and use it as a constant argument to justify everything they do. Their constant refrain is that nobody understands them. Aloofs usually match up with Interrogators who would try to draw them out with questions, but they also tend to invoke Intimidators or even Poor Me's because they can potentially respond to any power play by clamming up.
POOR ME is the victim- perpetual and eternal. This one wants sympathy and may occasionally slip into Aloof when they are giving the silent treatment. They are not really looking for solutions but use the problems only as points of conflict that evoke sympathy. Poor me sustain their victim status by partnering with intimidators
These control dramas usually start when the children are trying to gather their required energy from their parents. Intelligent aware parents would help the child learn to tap into nature, couple it with senstive nurture and use the Universe as the universal source of energy. The problems arise when the parents start competing with their own children because they have not given up their individual control dramas. They, then invoke a complementary control drama in their children.
Parents who have risen above the need to compete for energy, then, teach their children how to tap into the universe and teach them that such a competition is, infact, unnecessary. These parents and these children make for peaceful happy noncompeting homes.
When a girl gets married
I had a patient today- a young girl. She was pretty, and quite jovial. She jokingly remarked that her parents would not mind spending on her treatment as it was just a matter of a few more months.
She was smiling. A naughty gleam. It was refreshing. And yet it took me back a few years. To the time I was a newly wed.
I had been madly in love with my husband. I was a little sentimental- but mostly quite comfortable with the idea of being with my husband. Though I did feel a little that my father would miss me and that I would miss him, too. At the same time, I was sure we would adjust and it was not much of a big deal. Besides, I was in love! That was foremost. That was all that mattered.
I could not fathom how everybody ended up crying with the bride's departure. What was so final about a girl getting married. I knew I would not cry.
By God! I was wrong.
I cried. I cried in the car- the finality of my separation from my parents hit me with the force of a sledge hammer coming down full force on my head. My husband was very supportive and started playing a song that would hold my tears back... And he succeeded.
Little did he realise in his love that he had only postponed the inevitable.
The next day, the entire family got together and opened up all their old memory banks. All the albums of the home were on the table. Everybody sat cross legged and relaxed.
" See? This is Bittoo when he was three" exclaimed my mother-in-law. Then someone screamed with delight at the sight of the man in college. There were many more shots- in school, in college, in a restaurant, in the grounds, with friends, with grandparents, with siblings, with parents...
Oh! where was my family? Why did I have to be here? I found my heart filling up. And my eyes, too. All were busy rejoicing. No one thought about what I was missing. I was missing my umbilical cord. I knew what I needed. I wanted my mother. Now. I wanted my father. Now.
It was nearly eleven in the night. I was inconsolable. I started crying bitterly. Suddenly... it was no longer just fun memories. These people were enjoying exactly what I had been denied! It was a strange sense of loss. I could not accept it! It seems surprising, now. However, then, the only thing I wanted was to be back with my parents. Sanjay took me out for a walk. He tried talking to me, and holding my spirit up and even promised to take me back, the first thing next morning.
I finally cried myself to sleep and woke up with a new found hope of somehow turning the tide on itself. It could be done, I knew.
Somehow, it is only post facto that we mostly realise just how much the relationships in our life really mean to us. I have since grown in my marriage- been able to accept a lot and not been able to adapt to a lot, too. In the process, I have found a new level of maturity and acceptance. And doscovered more depth and love in myself and around me.
I have come to value my parents more since I have become a parent, myself. I have realised that I love both my spouse and my children- and my friends with a depth that cannot be defined. I have come to realise that - ultimately- in life- it is only our relationships that matter and define us.
And that is what I told this chirpy girl today. That she should value her feelings and those of her parents. That she should savour each moment she has. Time will pass. And if you are lucky, you may be granted a chance to say all this to those who matter to you. Say it while you can. To all those who can.
She was smiling. A naughty gleam. It was refreshing. And yet it took me back a few years. To the time I was a newly wed.
I had been madly in love with my husband. I was a little sentimental- but mostly quite comfortable with the idea of being with my husband. Though I did feel a little that my father would miss me and that I would miss him, too. At the same time, I was sure we would adjust and it was not much of a big deal. Besides, I was in love! That was foremost. That was all that mattered.
I could not fathom how everybody ended up crying with the bride's departure. What was so final about a girl getting married. I knew I would not cry.
By God! I was wrong.
I cried. I cried in the car- the finality of my separation from my parents hit me with the force of a sledge hammer coming down full force on my head. My husband was very supportive and started playing a song that would hold my tears back... And he succeeded.
Little did he realise in his love that he had only postponed the inevitable.
The next day, the entire family got together and opened up all their old memory banks. All the albums of the home were on the table. Everybody sat cross legged and relaxed.
" See? This is Bittoo when he was three" exclaimed my mother-in-law. Then someone screamed with delight at the sight of the man in college. There were many more shots- in school, in college, in a restaurant, in the grounds, with friends, with grandparents, with siblings, with parents...
Oh! where was my family? Why did I have to be here? I found my heart filling up. And my eyes, too. All were busy rejoicing. No one thought about what I was missing. I was missing my umbilical cord. I knew what I needed. I wanted my mother. Now. I wanted my father. Now.
It was nearly eleven in the night. I was inconsolable. I started crying bitterly. Suddenly... it was no longer just fun memories. These people were enjoying exactly what I had been denied! It was a strange sense of loss. I could not accept it! It seems surprising, now. However, then, the only thing I wanted was to be back with my parents. Sanjay took me out for a walk. He tried talking to me, and holding my spirit up and even promised to take me back, the first thing next morning.
I finally cried myself to sleep and woke up with a new found hope of somehow turning the tide on itself. It could be done, I knew.
Somehow, it is only post facto that we mostly realise just how much the relationships in our life really mean to us. I have since grown in my marriage- been able to accept a lot and not been able to adapt to a lot, too. In the process, I have found a new level of maturity and acceptance. And doscovered more depth and love in myself and around me.
I have come to value my parents more since I have become a parent, myself. I have realised that I love both my spouse and my children- and my friends with a depth that cannot be defined. I have come to realise that - ultimately- in life- it is only our relationships that matter and define us.
And that is what I told this chirpy girl today. That she should value her feelings and those of her parents. That she should savour each moment she has. Time will pass. And if you are lucky, you may be granted a chance to say all this to those who matter to you. Say it while you can. To all those who can.
My husband!
What would I call him? What can I call him? I ( and he, too!) are not given to endearments of Darling and Honey! That is the refuge of those who may be comfortable making their affections and feelings an object for public consumption. Not him. And definitely not me.
He is foremost an Eye surgeon. I still remember the time he had to have a forearm surgery on his right arm... he was worried sick what could happen if they injured a vital nerve?!
Sometimes I have to drag him out of that role and remind him to be a father and a husband.
He almost defines his existence by his professional role and lives and breathes the dedication and care he lives each day. With a hand that is rock steady and a confidence that is as unshakable he operated on his own mother's eyes, my father's eyes and now, on the eye of my brother's mono eyed mother-in-law. The anesthesiologist standing by for my mother-in-law ( she is prone to cardiac arrhythmias) remarked, " were we able to monitor your husband's pulse, I am sure we would be able to set the watch by it. His hand did not waver even for a micro second during the surgery. And I had to remind myself that this surgeon is operating on his own mother!"
Meet Sanjay Dhawan, the doctor.
He has been a builder, a dedicated worker and a leader who has always led from the front. He has been open to teaching his skills and techniques to all those who may want to learn. He has done donkey's work and carried mule's loads for the departments he has built in the past.
Sanjay Dhawan, the lone pioneer.
Always the people's man... he has lost sleep over the doctor who seems to have a personal or a professional problem; as well as the patient who needs his skill but cannot afford it. He has just picked up a street urchin simply because he saw that the girl was blind, taken her and her father to a state-of-the art facility, examined the child and not only provided medical care but also picked up his own daughter's clothes and given them to a girl who will not be able to see what she is wearing. Because he could not bear the idea of a girl child who is unable to see wear torn clothes that expose her dignity to the harsh eyes of a community that refuses to see.
Meet Sanjay Dhawan, the man.
He has been an admired teacher and a loved tutor by students at all levels. Concepts that flummox seasoned teachers flow very easily from this unassuming and passionate man! There are many who still look for and study from the notes that he once released to make difficult concepts understandable. He still goes out of his way to impart his hard earned skills to those who are willing to learn. Whether it is the revolutionary concept of eye drop, no injection anaesthesia or the minimally invasive techniques of blindness allevaiting surgery, he is willing to let his skill live on long after he is gone.
Meet Sanjay Dhawan, the teacher.
The man who can come home looking as if he needs to rest... eyes nearly closing... and his face lights up at the sight of his daughter- hugging her and joking with her to lighten the load on her tender shoulders. And the son who he holds in a bear hug and revels in... Saniya has started to work out things on her own. She watches keenly. She wants to try hooking the laptop to the Sony Bravia simply because she has seen her Chacha do it. And Sanjay will smile, knowing she can. Moksh asks questions endlessly... and 'eats our heads'. But Sanjay smiles indulgently ( and rather proudly) and says, " I love him to ask! I will serve my head on the platter and invite to be eaten. I love to answer whatever questions he may ask. And explore together if I cannot answer!"
Meet Sanjay Dhawan, the Father.
The man who comes back from the hospital and finds his friends and family waiting for him to light up their evening with a medley of Karaoke singing and soulful music. And he gladly obliges. He will sing on. ( A very recent phenomenon, this! He was one reticent guy! In all of our fifteen years together, I have not been able to make him sing more than twice. But in the last six months, he has broken through that reticence and hesitation)
Meet Sanjay Dhawan, the singer .
And then, at the end of a fruitfully lived day, this man suddenly realises that his laptop is not working optimally or that his CD player is beginning to act up or that the Dish washer is being a little obstinate or that the Refrigerator is being too noisy for his comfort. He will set up any system to his satisfaction and open up the CD player ( Its head needs SHAMPOOING!). Or a little bit of tinkering and " Let us see if it doing OK now?" with the dish washer. And the Refrigerator? Oh! That simply needs to be moved a little here or there. Viola! No more noise. Ah! Do not miss the little wooden piece that dampens the vibrations of our ventilator in the drawing room... You see, this glass used to add a little unwanted noise to his musical experience!
Meet Sanjay Dhawan The fixer! ( My kids... his kids call him that!)
And not to forget the man who carries at least twenty five kilos on his back comprising three to five cameras of various specifications on any vacation! We were held up at the Srinagar airport for over an hour because no one could believe that a single man could use all the equipment in that bag. Each piece was checked and cross checked. We have holiday photographs and family shots that we all love to watch. His photographs have even made it to heritage calenders. Photography is a driving passion with this man. It would be difficult for an onlooker to imagine that the man loaded with the cameras is really an eye surgeon.
Meet Sanjay Dhawan, the photographer
And then there is a rather private part of my heart and life that this man inhabits. He loves me and he irritates me. He cares for me and recklessly tramples over my feelings, too. He is worried sick if I am away without information and yet thinks nothing of doing the disappearing act himself. He smiles and still makes my heart do flip flop and makes my knees go weak. He speaks without having to say a word. And refuses to speak when I really wish he would say something! Sometimes he really obliges and says something," Something!" And he says it with the same naughty smile that took my heart away more than twenty years ago. Thank god for that day he called me back from the gate of the college to rag me!
Meet Sanjay Dhawan, my husband!
Music and brain wave entrainment
I wrote this piece for Helium. The Mozart Effect has been tickling my fancy for some time now. Is it really possible for the children to do better math? Or languages? Or smile better? ...Or....Or...
just by listening to some tracks? And that too in the background? No active listening needed! So put on some music on your home stereo and let the fun begin!
There may be issues here that need a scientific research and that need authentication. But What the heck! It is definitely not causing any harm. It has the potential to do some good! So why not just let the adventure begin?
Music has been known to bring about better mood and fonder emotions in the hearer. It is easy to just listen.
And...
just by listening to some tracks? And that too in the background? No active listening needed! So put on some music on your home stereo and let the fun begin!
There may be issues here that need a scientific research and that need authentication. But What the heck! It is definitely not causing any harm. It has the potential to do some good! So why not just let the adventure begin?
Music has been known to bring about better mood and fonder emotions in the hearer. It is easy to just listen.
And...
Music is, foremost, a form of energy- the sound energy. Basic primary school Physics taught us beyond doubt that energy can only be transformed from one form to another. It can not be destroyed or even created.
Various sense organs receive the energy from external ( and internal) sources as signals and these are then tranduced, and transmitted to the brain in the form of a nerve impulse. Any information ( signal) received by the human body causes a change in its milieu and is responded to at a basic animal/ emotional level much prior to any cognitive and intellectual awareness of the stimulus or the response. This is the same, irrespective of the stimulus- and includes the response to musical stimuli.
This homeostatic mechanism is necessary for survival. It resists a change... or resonates to the stimulus to blend with the change ( adaptation). In neuro-physiological terms, if a stimulus is applied appropriately enough, it gradually 'resets' the body's internal milieu to a new set point. This is the reason for and the explaination of the concept of neuroplasticity and learning.
When applied continuously, such stimuli require the body to ceaselessly maintain a new homeostatic level. Functionally adaptive responses brought about in this manner, then entrain the nerves and the nervous system much in the same way that lifting weights entrains muscles to gradually become stronger.
Specific types of musical stimulation has been shown to be beneficial in dealing with attention deficit disorders, aches and pains, and even intellectual gains.
There have been a few studies that have proved that Mozart is good for growing children. These studies may have an inherent bias that may tilt the results in favour of the composer. There are a certain type of people who are likely to listen to Mozart and then expose their young children to the same influences. This type is likely to be cultured, quiet ( and exposed to music) and is likely to have children who carry similar genes. Thus, any kind of music could possibly have similar effects but Mozart is more likely to be heard by those who are inherently quieter and intellectually more robust.
All said and done, Mozart, like many of the other composers is likely not to have any ill effects. Thus, exposure to such music can in the long run not cause any harm and may promote some gain.
If music can reduce pain and blood pressure and induce peaceful sleep, it can, potentially also induce psychological and intellectual enhancement. Till proved otherwise, this is a relatively harmless strategy to follow with children ( or adults) and may be studied scientifically before dismissing it as rubbish or plain hype.
For those interested in Music and its effect on humans, interesting reading may be found in the follwing titles:
1. The Music Effect By Daniel J Schneck & Dorita S Berger ( Jessica Kingsley Publishers)
2. Music, The Brain ans Ecstacy By Robert Jourdain
India- my country
This piece was written as a response to a TSI edit on what is ailing my country. See whether you feel the same way.
It is indeed a shame that the slogans and not issues win elections in India. As you have rightly pointed out, the muscle and the money are aplenty and both ripple visibly to tilt the scales. If alcohol and food can make so much difference to slum dwellers, consider the infinitely greater impact that the threat of a broken slum would have on this community. If India's Swiss bank holdings are indeed greater than those of all others put together, why is it that we continue to be a poor country?
Governance is not an easy job. If it is important that a child qualify each grade before (s)he proceeds to the next one, if it is necessary that a doctor not be licensed to cut before he qualifies to be a surgeon, if it important that the armed forces can only be manned by people who complete their IMA / NDA years, if a bridge cannot be designed by someone who is not qualified to do so... why does politics not require some form of mandatory schooling?
It would do India a lot of good to create systems whereby anyone aspiring to a political career can do so only upon completing a College degree of Politics and Governance. There should be a pre-qualification barr- may be a mandatory graduation in any field or a pre-qualifying exam of the kind that separates the deserving from the non-deserving in Premed and JEE entrance tests or something like a CAT.
If a teacher cannot teach beyond the age of 62 ( and when given an extension 64), how is it that the politicians CAN continue to be in politics well into their seventies, eighties and beyond? Why can the truly good ones not take on the role of mentors and train the youth for a political career that can make a difference to the nation rather than their individual selves.
It all starts at the grass-roots. Whether or not keeping the masses uneducated is indeed a ploy of every succeeding government is a debatable issue but the fall out of this lack of education is obvious and plain to see in every field of public life in India.
This not about individual politicians but about a system that is rotting, but it is also about a system or a people that is surviving despite the rot! We are a resilient race that has survived eons of being exploited whether at the hands of our religious leaders in the remote past, or the invading foreigners who found the Golden sparrow so tempting they decided to stay on even after plundering it, or even the traders of the yester-years as recently as 1947... when we finally wrested control of our own destiny. We had larger issues then. We dealt with them. We created an industry, we created the infra-structure of dams and we created even the infra-structure of educationsl institutions. Now, we are at another cross- roads.
WE now need to educate and empower EVERY Indian, to create awareness of issues and to make it possible for each Indian to repulse any attack on our honour. This may mean conscription. It may nean disciplining us as a nation and it certainly means educating the masses.
Your editorial is a wonderful piece that could well be the start of a movement if just a few right thinking people could get together.
As we used to say when we were ourselves teens... KAUN KEHTA HAI AASMAN MEIN SURAKH HO NAHIN SAKTA>>> EK PATHAR TO TABIYAT SE UCCHALO YAARON!
Let us try and penetrate the sky of apathy that surrounds us and break free. Let the sun shine again!
It is indeed a shame that the slogans and not issues win elections in India. As you have rightly pointed out, the muscle and the money are aplenty and both ripple visibly to tilt the scales. If alcohol and food can make so much difference to slum dwellers, consider the infinitely greater impact that the threat of a broken slum would have on this community. If India's Swiss bank holdings are indeed greater than those of all others put together, why is it that we continue to be a poor country?
Governance is not an easy job. If it is important that a child qualify each grade before (s)he proceeds to the next one, if it is necessary that a doctor not be licensed to cut before he qualifies to be a surgeon, if it important that the armed forces can only be manned by people who complete their IMA / NDA years, if a bridge cannot be designed by someone who is not qualified to do so... why does politics not require some form of mandatory schooling?
It would do India a lot of good to create systems whereby anyone aspiring to a political career can do so only upon completing a College degree of Politics and Governance. There should be a pre-qualification barr- may be a mandatory graduation in any field or a pre-qualifying exam of the kind that separates the deserving from the non-deserving in Premed and JEE entrance tests or something like a CAT.
If a teacher cannot teach beyond the age of 62 ( and when given an extension 64), how is it that the politicians CAN continue to be in politics well into their seventies, eighties and beyond? Why can the truly good ones not take on the role of mentors and train the youth for a political career that can make a difference to the nation rather than their individual selves.
It all starts at the grass-roots. Whether or not keeping the masses uneducated is indeed a ploy of every succeeding government is a debatable issue but the fall out of this lack of education is obvious and plain to see in every field of public life in India.
This not about individual politicians but about a system that is rotting, but it is also about a system or a people that is surviving despite the rot! We are a resilient race that has survived eons of being exploited whether at the hands of our religious leaders in the remote past, or the invading foreigners who found the Golden sparrow so tempting they decided to stay on even after plundering it, or even the traders of the yester-years as recently as 1947... when we finally wrested control of our own destiny. We had larger issues then. We dealt with them. We created an industry, we created the infra-structure of dams and we created even the infra-structure of educationsl institutions. Now, we are at another cross- roads.
WE now need to educate and empower EVERY Indian, to create awareness of issues and to make it possible for each Indian to repulse any attack on our honour. This may mean conscription. It may nean disciplining us as a nation and it certainly means educating the masses.
Your editorial is a wonderful piece that could well be the start of a movement if just a few right thinking people could get together.
As we used to say when we were ourselves teens... KAUN KEHTA HAI AASMAN MEIN SURAKH HO NAHIN SAKTA>>> EK PATHAR TO TABIYAT SE UCCHALO YAARON!
Let us try and penetrate the sky of apathy that surrounds us and break free. Let the sun shine again!
Life happens
We may go about planning How we are going to do what we want to do with the assurance that it simply is the thing to do BECAUSE we thought it! And sometimes... it IS.
Sometimes, however, we have to have the wisdom and the courage to accept that what is happening to us may not be how we plan life but how it is best for us to unfold.
We may set out to reach office ( as many did on that fateful September day) and find that the coffee has run cold or the guy in front of us is not moving fast enough... and fail to reach on time. Only because our purpose on the earth is not yet over. We still have something left to be done. So God, or whoever you thing it is up there, DELAYS you so you can stay on. You thank the Almighty. Truly thank. And get on with the business of living on.
The bizarre incident of the man who survived a blue line hit recently in Delhi is a telling example of Fate taking over in spite of everything...
This man was hit by a bus coming on at a moderate speed. He fell down like a log of wood. Onlookers were aghast. They stopped and for once, in Delhi, did not just look on. They did something. The 'innocent bystanders' were sure they could save him. They picked him up- unconscious and lumpy, and put him into a passing auto ( this quintessentially Indian vehicle defies all definition!)
The jerky ride must have done it! The victim not only got up as if waking from a nap, he also stopped the auto and told the onlookers he was fine and that he would like to go 'home'. The Lord also wanted him 'home', it seems.
He stepped out of the auto...
And...
Bang... Hit ANOTHER TIME!!!!!
By another blueline bus!
Incredible.
This hit- he did not survive.
Was it his destiny calling him? Why did he get off the auto that would have safely taken him to a hospital?
So...
Have faith. When something terrible seems to be happening to you... at least it is happening.
When you survive the terrible happening... you know you have the strength.
You also know it can only get better!
Think. But not too hard.
Laugh. But not too subdued.
Enjoy. Sing. Dance. The fact that you are alive has a meaning. Try to discover that meaning.
And remember. Life is what really happens when we are losing sight of it planning it...
Sometimes, however, we have to have the wisdom and the courage to accept that what is happening to us may not be how we plan life but how it is best for us to unfold.
We may set out to reach office ( as many did on that fateful September day) and find that the coffee has run cold or the guy in front of us is not moving fast enough... and fail to reach on time. Only because our purpose on the earth is not yet over. We still have something left to be done. So God, or whoever you thing it is up there, DELAYS you so you can stay on. You thank the Almighty. Truly thank. And get on with the business of living on.
The bizarre incident of the man who survived a blue line hit recently in Delhi is a telling example of Fate taking over in spite of everything...
This man was hit by a bus coming on at a moderate speed. He fell down like a log of wood. Onlookers were aghast. They stopped and for once, in Delhi, did not just look on. They did something. The 'innocent bystanders' were sure they could save him. They picked him up- unconscious and lumpy, and put him into a passing auto ( this quintessentially Indian vehicle defies all definition!)
The jerky ride must have done it! The victim not only got up as if waking from a nap, he also stopped the auto and told the onlookers he was fine and that he would like to go 'home'. The Lord also wanted him 'home', it seems.
He stepped out of the auto...
And...
Bang... Hit ANOTHER TIME!!!!!
By another blueline bus!
Incredible.
This hit- he did not survive.
Was it his destiny calling him? Why did he get off the auto that would have safely taken him to a hospital?
So...
Have faith. When something terrible seems to be happening to you... at least it is happening.
When you survive the terrible happening... you know you have the strength.
You also know it can only get better!
Think. But not too hard.
Laugh. But not too subdued.
Enjoy. Sing. Dance. The fact that you are alive has a meaning. Try to discover that meaning.
And remember. Life is what really happens when we are losing sight of it planning it...
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