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.

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!"

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

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?

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.

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.

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.