In Memory Of the Real Heroes

Mumbai was in thought, mind and spirit for the past 100 hours. In those moments of heightened and frenzied activity, my emotions were a big kaleidoscope of mixed colors: of denial, anger, blankness, insecurity, helplessness, and agony of loss.

Digesting the mindless madness of this attempt has been the toughest part of the past week. I was praying for the ruthlessness  of the time and mind to commit the horror of the moment to the memory and make me carry on life like business as usual. I guess its the classic escapist nature of the self that lulls one to hope and wish for the better future and life of the countrymen.

Terrorists, Bombs and attacks are not new to us. They are just a part of old news that we deal with in our lifetime. Resilient and united is how our Mumbai janata has always been. They made me proud during the blasts or the floods of the recent times by the way they stood for each other and supported one another. The glorious NSG, Army and Commandos who laid their life on battle to save their fellow countrymen, and those innumerable and countless people of Taj and Oberoi who sacrificed their life in the name of duty, responsibility and honor: You make me proud. You also teach me a lesson in humility, love, respect, honor and duty. I mourn for the senseless loss of you all. May your soul rest in peace and quiet and may your sacrifice remain forever in the mind of people and make way for a positive and better future.

As an Indian, I couldn’t resist myself from quoting this song that’s committed to my memory since childhood days.

‘E Mere Watan Ke Logon, Jara Aankh Me Bharlo Paani
Jo Shaheed Huve Hai Vunki, Jara Yaar Karo Kurbani.’

My eyes are still red with anger, and contempt for the senseless audacity of the monsters and the grief for the destruction of the lives of the people and here we promise that your sacrifice wouldn’t go waste in lighting candles or tea time discussions of Mumbai blasts but would be committed to memory and reflected in actions of our fellow men.

This is time for leadership, for action, and commitment from the Government to take India to the progress and security. Dear leaders, do tell us. Could a better intelligence system have avoided this Mumbai Massacre? Could a better planning would have reduced the heavy loss of life that tolls heavily on the conscience of every Indian? Yes, we Indians are resilient and we would bounce back to life faster. But isn’t it your job to ensure and assure that these incidents wouldn’t repeat and rehash themselves in grisly and morbid frequency. Give us a plan, and not just some shoot off the lip condolences and condemnations. I refuse to believe that India, with its rich intellectual horse power can’t learn from this lesson and make plan for the best intelligence and tracking system to deroot the terrorist network. This is the time of action for us to take a stand tall like determined patriots and contribute our share to the betterment of the environment and society at large. This is the time to take time to reflect, cull the lessons, and make a personal plan for contribution to the enhancement of the security, safety and growth of the team called India.

A note to the Monsters:

What appalled me is the gall of those uncultured, vacuous bigots who could kill with smile and with utter disregard to conscience. I wonder how would your so called God permit this frenzied destruction under a larger purpose. What could be the education of your brainwashed asinine monsters whose doctrines permit the ruthless killing of fellow people with reckless abandon in the name of holy war or some messed up ideology to reserve a seat in heaven. Wah, is this your idea of holy war business? What could be holy in taking on defenceless, unprepared, friendly people by surprise and blowing their brains out in a displaced sense of justice? Oh I forget, you peanut brained guys cant be expected to understand concepts like holy, God and justice. Ever tthought about what does your Heaven look like? A mirror of the destruction you created? Of strewn lambs of your fellow men, of debris of the marvels of creation filled with stench of blood and flesh?

Yeah, right. You guys were making a statement: of your empty headed ideologies, of your debased moral sense, cheap values and of the deviousness of the monstrous actions. Just wake up from perdition and watch for yourself. You wanted to our national monument to bit the dust? You would see the Taj standing proud and tall, living to tell the courageous tale of the ordeal. I can see it back to its feet better and beautiful in weeks. You wanted to instill fear in the heart of the business of India? Go check, for the city of Mumbai is back on its feet, with those crowded metro stations and with tonnes of people making a statement of courage as they brush past the terror and walk up to a purposeful Monday with determination. You wanted to cripple India’s growth? We might miss some tourist dollars, but haven’t you already noticed the the vadapav centres getting busied up on the streets in utter disregard for your brutish actions. Nothing and no-one can stop the tenacity and the persistence of the Indians that make my country. It’s just another day for us, to conquer life and the world at large.

Definition Of Love

I know it might sound a little strange, yet am compelled by this innate curiosity to understand what people define as love. Our lives run like a poetry of love, for its in love that we grow, evolve and rise up to our potential of what we are and what can we be. My definition and understanding of love has changed over years, and though how much ever I love to give an expression to that emotion, silence always beats me by a great margin.

What do we promise when we say ‘I Love You’? Are we creating an obligation for others to live up to or a promise for me to honor? Or it simply a heartfelt expression of intense emotion? Am left oft confused. All those happily in love, indifferent from its charms and those engaged in pursuit, do pitch in for I would love to hear what you want to say in this.

Now don’t wonder about the context of this question. I am just a plain Jane who having lived through a quarter century, is desparately trying to get her basics right. Probably, all I want deep down in my heart, is to be loved just a little more.

Comfort Zones..

Those are big words. They are also the most often used/abused words in my dictionary. You would often catching me rolling it off with a careless regard oft to myself and often in generic conversations that go around the world.

Come think of it, there are many things that offer comfort in moments of insanity drives. It could be a pack of chocolates, a piece of soothing music, my favorite workspace, or the cozy comfort of an enjoyable book that often comes to rescue offering serene solitude and sweet freedom in the world of my own making. Yet, Cooing up long enough in those little spaces can make one forget the terrible purpose of being for it hinders the ability to dare and heed to the passion call to risk everything for something that we hold close to heart.

Sometimes I feel as if I am so away from my own self that it takes me a while to call for rescue. What so often made for lingering comfort couldn’t assert its existence anymore. Of all the paradoxical pursuits of life, have you ever experienced this urge to deny those little alcoves of comfort in search of something whose essence you haven’t grasped so far?

How I Wish This To Be True…

[W]hen the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies. And now when every new baby is born its first laugh becomes a fairy. So there ought to be one fairy for every boy or girl. ~James Matthew Barrie, Peter Pan

For all I need to make this true is only to believe it to be true.. Guess I am caught in the beauty of this thought.

Apathy…

Ever experienced it?

A sicking sensation of nothingness. A quiet despair creeping into the numbing spirit. A hushed space suspended in vacuum where the sounds of silence throb deeper into the hollow of the heart.

Sometimes the disquietening lull of life haunts more than words can ever will.

The Waiting…

Anticipation.. How tantalizing that anguish it is!

Counting seconds as you await the hues in the sky to bend into your will, praying in lame desperation for hours to vanish without cognition, warding the quiet despair that’s creeping into your soul with a naive faith in heart and a wry grin. Time seems to be churning its longest hour and waiting seems like the hardest part of life.

The sun has slipped his tether
And galloped down the west.
(Oh, it’s weary, weary waiting, love.)
The little bird is sleeping
In the softness of its nest.
Night follows day, day follows dawn,
And so the time has come and gone:
And it’s weary, weary waiting, love.

The cruel wind is rising
With a whistle and a wail.
(And it’s weary, weary waiting, love.)
My eyes are seaward straining
For the coming of a sail;
But void the sea, and void the beach
Far and beyond where gaze can reach!
And it’s weary, weary waiting, love.

- Paul Laurence Dunbar

Sometimes I do wonder why is that the longing or the waiting for something so intense a feeling than the fulfillment of the desire? Why do those yearnings for somethings and anticipation of many nothings ache so much in heart even when the conscious mind does acknowledge that the fulfillment may not lead to consummate happiness? Why is it that the sweet throb of anticipation never matches the satisfaction of the accomplishment?

Life seems to be on swirl, caught in run amidst the seeping sand in the hourglass.

Matters of Insignificance…

My morning calm was perturbed by a really insignificant matter today. For those who know me only through this online medium, one of my queer little idiosyncrasies include punctuality. The time on my watch is always 10 minutes ahead, and on the top of it, I try to make it five minutes in advance to the Time I have in mind. So, if I plan for an 7:30 AM morning walk to office, negotiations are rarely allowed.

Most (almost all) of my mornings are heavily dosed with a random discipline of adherence to some schedule, which sounds logical only through retrospective justification. And so was today. My dependence on another person delayed my morning walk at 7:30 by 40 minutes which took me through a phase of disquiet and I ended up taking the cab instead. Just because there was a mismatch between what happened and what I had scheduled to happen, I was jolted out of my composure and couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the moment.

Learning to live in the beauty of the present seems like an eternal pursuit indeed.

Waking Up Into The Paradise…

Jannat.. Is this it?

These days my mornings are filled with tranquil repose. Such is the sheer morning bliss of waking up into a quiescent paradise marked by perfect harmony that I am indulging in lazy languor. Slowly the alarm at 5:30 AM lost its prominence and I am able to greet the clock and the sun only after another hour flies by the window panes. Now, what eases my conscience is the beautiful Bangalore Morning Weather. If I discount the roars of the street, the cool soothing breeze and the gentle sun rays are perfect for the sunny summers.

Musing on memories, early mornings and the wafting gentle breeze are a part of me since childhood. My pride of being a little town girl springs from the luxury of being softly transported to reality by either the mellifluous chirping of the country birds or by the divinely melodious Suprabhatam. If I was lucky that day, I would even be bribed from the sands of dreamland by my Granny or Mamma with a gentle kiss. Those were the days of contentment, tradition and values. Those are the days when you believe that Goddess Saraswati blesses those who study at Brahma Muhurta (at 4 AM) and soaking the warm Sunrays in the early morning with Surya Namaskara fills one with energy and strength. Though the idea of being stolen from the land of dreams isn’t appealing, the purposeful morning chores fill life with activity and spirit. Often, at home early mornings happen as an act of tradition. Our small home is abuzz with activity by 5 AM and I end up vying for my share in Mamma’s tea.

Those days of simple rhythm and family warmth are so afresh. The custom carries on. Come what may, I rarely miss a chance to greet the Sun in my way, for, I get a sense of being transgressed from an age old value thats been a part of me since childhood, which I humbly followed as an act of reverence to the customs and traditions of generations.

Is this called an Inconvenient Truth?

Something thats difficult to ignore, even as a comic.. Makes me think…

Random Musings Over Weekend…

This post is a result of a desire to list out some of those haphazard thoughts that catch you in randomness in every direction on a weekend, just when you realize you have all the time in the world to be with oneself.

The Regular Weekend Laundry List

• Yesterday, I watched a telugu movie called ‘Parugu’, just for the heck of it. Its about time for me to admit how I am such a hopeless movie freak and how I enjoy catching any movie at any theatre (multiplex to local standalone) over weekends.
• Just finished reading ‘Close to the Wind’ by John Harris. I was little reluctant to pick that book at start, as I couldn’t find a single review about it online. Thankfully, its a beautifully told story and I added a review about that book to my to do list.
• Yesterday, just when my stomach is full of ‘Bobby da Dhaba’ Paratha and my eyes are really longing for a trip to dreamland, a pal of mine calls me to ask a seemingly innocuous question, “Do we really have a larger purpose in life?”. Huh! My mind really went blank. Answer, anyone please?
• After being bulldozed by a pal for about four hours, I trotted around in BTM to discover a place called HICON which offers weekend cinematic Hiphop dance classes. I have no clue what that means, but I am planning to figure it out tomorrow. See, even I am susceptible to flashes of random inspiration.
• Today, I discovered that I have an amalgamation of about 56 odd stocks in my portfolio. For a novice that I am, thats like placing eggs in to too many baskets. Hopefully, I will sort that mess by next week.

Some High Moments

• Last week, I attended my cousin’s marriage. We grew up together and its sheer pleasure to see him enter into an assisted marriage. Marriages are also time for family and relatives get-together for socializing and catching up with times. My heart took me through a flashback ride of childhood, those times of playing hide and seek, mounting walls, bicycle races, flouting rules and climbing trees for mangoes and guavas. Looking at the brazen mirth of a couple of kids jumping on and off the marriage hall, my grandpa innocently remarked, “Probably childhood is the only time when we are carefree and truly happy”. Hearing his artless remark, I could only flash a blissful grin.
• I am glad to know that the post on Tashan stopped at least a couple of folks from watching that movie. Curiously, I felt so happy to play the savior.
• I am really glad to see Amitabh Bachan blogging. I can’t help but wonder how he answers all those thousands of comments on his own, or how does he find time to blog on a daily basis amidst his busy schedule. He almost taught me Hindi over Doordarshan during my school days and I love the way he carries himself. He holds a special place in my heart and I am happy to share a piece of his thoughts.

Some Time For Confessions

• My weekend over the past three years stuck to a random pattern of predictability. It almost always includes a couple of movies, pals and books, long walks, a diary, some music and some restaurant. Not that I mind falling into a pattern!
• I often write to share with others some advice, opinion or a slice of my mind. I can’t call it a hobby anymore, for this zeal for self-expression is a part of the core me.
• These days I am worried about the acceptance that I offer to circumstances. I have become too complacent and accepting of things around me as if they are part of scenery. I have a right to feel and vent anger. And I think that justifiable and just anger shows how much one cares about any situation. May be I should try exercising my right instead of pressing that ‘Ignore’ button.
• Sometimes I confuse potential with skill. There is a world of difference between ‘I can do it’ and ‘I have done it’.
• I enjoy counseling and dispensing advice to myself and to anyone who naively lends an ear. Yet, I am incapable of taking the admirable advice that I get uninvited from me and the world.
• When I wander through college campuses, I get this overwhelming urge to get back to school and classrooms. Like children, I forget those urges once I step out of those campuses.
• My biggest weakness is my lack of self discipline. I somehow find it tough to stick to any form of schedule. Can’t say that I am working on it though!
• I am an extremely positive person. Being positive requires continuous effort and like a petulant child, it demands constant attention. When situations subject me to unexpected lows, I retreat into a shell for sometime to compose myself enough to long for those hopeful rainbows. I hate to share those moods of moroseness and negativity. Some thoughts are not worth sharing.
• Barely three years old into the corporate world, I already suffer from materialism,’What’s In It For Me’ Syndrome, To-Do lists and finally randomizing nonsense through bullet points.

A Testimonial Of Love…

Sometimes I wonder that’s what love in life is. Love and its longing weaves a lilting yearning in my life that I seldom pause to wonder at the magic of love that I subconsciously indulge in. Love that’s giving, love that can make a prophet, martyr or a seer out of a self centered person. Yet, at times I cant help but ponder if love is selfish. When those really close loved ones ask for a testimonial of love. I feel like saying that love is not a piece of cake where each may lay their claim. Yet, its that obligation of relationship that makes me play along. Especially when I really believe in the strength of their affection. Something in that mental makeup of mine votes for that obligation that springs from love over privatism(or the joy that results from celebtrating my individuality). May be, its true. We all change for the ones we love. 

True to my stars, I can seldom differentiate between love and friendship, as I think one feeds on another. Sometimes, I tilt much towards the latter, as it taught me how to give without expectations and about being there in times of need. Yet, if I have to sum life in a few words, its always family, friends and a chance of self-expression.

A Pachyderm Confession…

And Indeed there is a huge reason behind this post. Just now, over one of those purposeless lazy browsing of the Internet world, I came across this news where I read about a hero Keshav Vishwakarma, whose story went unsung for the current day world either would ignore his sacrifice, or laugh at his rare moral standard. Keshav Vishwakarma tried to prevent three men from molesting a 40 year old woman in Surat, and the perpetrators BURNT him alive! Such was the strength and courage of the man, that after sustaining over 75% of burns, he walked about two kilometers to the nearest police station to report the incident and got them arrested.

Somehow, reading about his incident and the bestial brutality behind it, left me grossly unsettled. What have I become? A thick skinned Pachyderm who has no care or time for the world. How easy it has become to press the ignore button about life, news channels, media and about the happenings in the environment. How comfortable it is to get into a cocoon and believe that everything is fair and beautiful. Being a woman, I had heard my share of lectures on how to be safe, silent and muted over abuse and the uninvited groping public places. Will Keshav ever have his stand acknowledged by the women, who have come to accept the rowdy pandering of uncouth youth as a daily occurrence?

This is our pride and this indeed is our shame. What’s in there to be proud about, for this incident that happened in Jan 2008 got no great publicity. The values that Keshav espoused and the courage he showed went unrecognized, and his sacrifice died a silent death. Annie Zaidi has written a moving elegy as a glowing tribute to Keshav, which pricked my conscience to no end. I am quoting it verbatim, for I would want it to be read, and for people to spend a few seconds of their precious busy lives to say a prayer for Keshav’s soul.

“This much is set, Keshav ji – can I call you Keshav?
I feel an affinity, an ease, that is hard to explain,
Considering we’ve never met, and now, never will
Yet I’m sure you won’t mind my speaking so plain –

This much is certain: you will get no memorial, no statue
No marble slab with metal plaque, saying,‘Keshav: martyr’
Nobody will say you died that we might live, or less poetically,
That you upheld a nation’s head, honoured our civilizational charter.

What you died for – were killed for – was too much an everyday thing
So you will not go down as a human rights’ champion
Nor the leader of a bunch of people with a cause
Nor a just warrior for the aggrieved, the downtrodden

Nobody’s going to write that you’re a victim of what we’ve become
Nobody’s spine with tingle with the dread of this fact.
At least, not beyond next week, when you’ll be a statistic -
For that’s the way people keep their minds intact.

Don’t mind, Keshav, it is not on purpose that
Nobody will write you a full-length obit, or
That only one paper bothered to go and dig up
Info on how you lived, and who you lived for.

Keshav, if you knew (did you?) what they’d do
Perhaps you’d have shut up and let it be
Some insults, a woman – it happens all the time
Harassment and women – like sand and sea.

You see, we women rarely bother ourselves
We’ve learnt to shut up and stay shut; some say
Our eyes are glazed with the cataract of silence
We’re told, to live safe, there’s no other way.

Keshav, stupid Keshav, what made you take on
The mantle of hero? It is not as if
Someone was looking, and those who were, looked away
(as they do). Did you think they’d help? As if!

Keshav, young Keshav (only thirty-five, good God!)
They’ll forget. Oh, they forget, they forget each time
They’ve begun to forget the mobs of new years past,
And Meher of Lucknow? Her too! This forgetting’s sublime.

Keshav, it’s true, I cried for you, but so what?
You burnt, you died, and those three will live.
Noone’s clamouring for a public hanging (women’s security
Isn’t ‘national’) so… yes, some sentence the court may give.

That is, if the police finds those three.
You actually thought they would, and you walked
After being set on fire – two kilometers!
To the police station and there, you talked.

What did you say, Keshav? What were your dying words?
Were you angry rather than scared? Or both?
That I can relate to; it’s the same with me.
That tremulous rage – frustration and fear both.

Did you wonder, as you walked, if you’d actually die?
Did someone tell you, it was your own fault?
Did they say, why couldn’t you guess at
The demons-in-waiting? That you should, by default?

That’s what they tell us; that’s how we go on.
They tell us all the time and that’s how we know
No alone. No dark street. No panga. No sharp words.
No smart clothes. No reds. No smiling. Nono.

Where did you study, Keshav? Which school?
Which blighted, mind-altering, twisted-soul place?
Who taught you? Or forgot to? What kind of friends
Did you have that they tell you the rules of this race?

This race. These people. We. Our nation.
Women. Children. Cosmic pawns playing parts.
What shall I say? Keshav, should I say something like,
You’re a hero and will live in our hearts?

Oh, who cares? Heroes! I bet you’d rather just
Have been alive and maybe all heroes feel that way
To live! That would be nice, they must think, but
They go ahead and die if they must, anyway.

Not that it matters to you any more, Keshav
The writing of this. Any words. Anything.
You were burnt alive before you were properly burnt
And maybe you never did care of what poets sing.

I’d bring you flowers if you had a grave.
I’d build you a statue, if I had a piece of land
I’d write in big letters – ‘Look! This is our shame
And this our pride. This murder is man.’

Listen, Keshav, it is too late, but listen.
Wherever you are, lie in peace, now it’s over.
And know that you stepped up higher than man.
(And lower than man… even God sank no lower)

I’ll spare you the platitudes about how you are free
Or how, in heaven, the apsaras long to kiss you
But this fight you’ve fought, I’ll fight to the death
But Keshav, brother, in the meantime, we’ll miss you.”

An Eventful Trip To Hyderabad..

Well, the reason for the over-the-long-weekend Hyderabad trip is basically nothing, apart from the fact that I ran out of creative ideas to kill three days at a stretch in Bangalore. This trip was a sheer product of dread at ruining a nice holiday with the idiot box and some insipid novels (the bibliophile in me is suffering from acute dearth of intellectual stamina).

I spent my time with friends, discovering what has changed in them and what hasn’t changed in Hyderabad, apologizing at times rather earnestly on why I couldn’t make it to their weddings/ engagements, handling over belated wedding presents, checking out remote areas like Bala Nagar and Suchitra, meeting a couple of online pals for the very first time, watching a couple of movies for IMAX and City Planet sake, taking a long walk at General Bazaar during a light drizzle, driving around the city on one good old engineering times lady bike of my pal wearing a helmet, and in free time hogging Paradise Biryanies and Irani Chaies.

There are some uninvited realizations and lessons too. I realized that I lost a piece of the gullible me when I couldn’t trust an autowalah on face value. Especially when my suspicion proved right. I realized that I needed to be more assertive, when someone asked me to pay a price for companionship. I realized that people change and especially when you meet pals after a gap of some years my mental image of them won’t fit with what they currently are. And, I could shed some biases and prejudices that I nursed of Hyderabad, for I realized that at heart I do like the larger than life attitude of the city.

This short trip to Hyderabad proved out to be quite eventful. Indeed.

In Pursuit of Happiness..

There is a moment in that movie where Will Smith says, “It was right then that I started thinking about Thomas Jefferson on the Declaration of Independence and the part about our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And I remember thinking how did he know to put the pursuit part in there? That maybe happiness is something that we can only pursue and maybe we can actually never have it. No matter what. How did he know that?”. That did made me ponder about the futility thats inherent in the pursuit of happiness. Yet, I shut my inner voice to indulge in that movie, as I loved the father and son chemistry very much there.

I get quizzical when people come and tell me that they are in pursuit of these. Happiness. Joy. Laughter. Peace. Through out life, they keep these very things that they long for at bay running after materialistic pursuits , trying to ensure that they would be eternally happy ensconced in luxury in the end. Finally, most of them end up rudely surprised by the bout of misery and dissatisfaction that surmount them even after reaching the pinnacle of achievement. What went wrong? How could these tremendously intelligent people miss the bus of holistic Life?

This nagging thought is consuming me in all intensity. Though I can debate endlessly about the origin and location of happiness and proclaim holy statements that look with in one self, what makes me wonder is the continuity of effort that happiness demands. My moods, and state of mind are in constant flux, and there are always things that can make me rattled or cheesed off on a daily basis. It really requires detachment, determination and a great deal of focus to keep up my cool in times of crisis and uncertainty.

Two days back, I was very unhappy about a certain situation. My mind and emotions were really disturbed and then, in an attempt to tease myself out of thought and in pursuit of peace, I went to Ragi Gudda Temple. Even, the God couldn’t numb my worry and a little reflection told me that I desperately needed an attitude change more than the location or work. Probably seeking pleasure or happiness would inherently invite misery along. For, I believe that any activity inbuilt with a sense of purpose is a blend of pain and gain. We struggle, and we learn. We cry and we earn. We can only try to attempt a state of mind which can rival the lotus leaf that can stay untouched by the water even in the middle of a pond. We can be happy only if we choose to be happy. And that requires a constant effort indeed. For now, let me try to digest Karma Yoga (The Yoga of Action) of Swami Vivekananda which advocates about the pursuit of knowledge instead of pleasure. Hoping to garner some reflection there.

A Take On Beauty..

This post is dedicated to Anita Roddick for she led my personal favorite campaign on Self Esteem called ‘The Ruby Campaign’. Ruby was a realistically and generously proportioned doll that tried to mock the all so perfect Barbie which hammered the young girl generation in to getting into that perfect shape at any cost and there by falling prey to eating disorders, bulimia etc. Being a part of the very cosmetics industry, Anita champions an ethical revolution by quoting, “It makes me angry, not only because it is a male-dominated industry built on creating needs that don’t exist, but because it seems to have decided that it needs to make women unhappy about their appearances. It plays on self-doubt and insecurity about image and ageing by projecting impossible ideals of youth and beauty.” Though am a self confessed prude, I cant resist posting the Ruby posters over here for the benefit of folks who are discovering Ruby right now.

Some facts that the Ruby Campaign highlights is

“# There are 3 billion women who don’t look like super models and only eight who do.
# Marilyn Monroe wore a size 14.
# If Barbie was a real woman, she’d have to walk on all fours due to her proportions.
# The average woman weighs 144 lbs and wears between a 12-14.
# Scaled to life size, a Barbie doll would be 7′2″. She would have a 40″ bust, a 22″ waist and 36″ hips.
# One out of every four college-aged women has an eating disorder.
# A psychological study in 1995 found that three minutes spent looking at a fashion magazine caused 70 percent of women to feel depressed, guilty, and shameful.”

Ruby kind of explores in a deep way the notions of beauty, desirability and the society induced guilt which propagate unwholesome psychological needs of beauty. And now men are not left either in that pursuit of unreasonable Adonis. With all media going gaga about the chiseled muscle men, many of the guys are pumping their Testosterone in those high intensity workouts for that perfect V shape. Yesterday, in one of those engaging discussions with my pal, I had my first brush with this guilt in a guy. Though it gives a grim satisfaction if I consider those issues of equality in dark humor, I couldn’t digest my friends going through this phenomenon without an awareness of the baggage that they carry. If we are chiseling ourselves for being good enough and attractive to that illusionary partners, we are piling our subconscious under a mountain of guilt and inferiority complex. And tell me this. How can I expect to be loved for what I can be, if I don’t love myself for what I am? For love with oneself is expressed in the way we relate to humanity. Unless I am comfortable with myself and accept myself for what I am, I can never accept the other person for what he or she is. I would burden him or her with unreasonable expectations and may build pressure on them to live up to my love, almost expecting them to pay a price for a chance at a relationship with me.

Guess, I need to clarify here, as I have indeed suggested diet plans for a couple of my friends while advising them to keep their weight in check. I did so, as I experimented with myself with various diets and I indeed believe that holistic life includes being right sized for flexibility, health and activity. I do believe that a well balanced holistic lifestyle attuned to nature wouldn’t store excess fat or flab on body. Yet, we are the way we are based on the trade offs and the choices we made. I am comfortable with what I am and I won’t let some external entity alter my views on beauty, femininity or the acceptability or desirability of myself. To put it simply, I use or try things based on my interest or curiosity and not because ‘I am worth it’.

If I look at the entire process and concept of beautification, I feel that its an attempt by all of us to be loved and accepted a little more. Isn’t it? Yet, my appeal for all is to do it for oneself and internalize that idea of beauty that you have after keen reflection. I hate to see anyone being plagued by a concept called alienation: of being a part of the world you don’t want to be in and working for a goal that you can’t own in heart for societal or for ‘the significant other’s’ sake. We all try to change for those we love, yet do keep this in mind. Those who reciprocate wouldn’t care whether we are good enough and those who don’t doesn’t matter. Falling in love with oneself, and wearing that narcissistic hat once in a while is a great way to catch that conceptual perfect unicorn for yourself. Cherish all that is you, coz you are unique in our own special way just like everyone else is and noone can take that from you.

Here’s my favorite Darren Hayes’s “Good Enough” song for you all. I loved this song both for its lyrics and the music.

“If I woke up late
Couldn’t get out of bed
If I bought you a cafe latte instead
If I lied when I said
32 inches was the size of my waist
And can I admit
Every once in a while
Even though I dig alternative style
Occasionally
I can be caught dancin’ to Brittany
And can I confess
That art house doesn’t turn me on
But I like every single thing that Speilberg’s done

Could I be good enough
Could I be good enough
If the going got worse
And the worse got rough
The days became endless
And harder than tough
I’d be good enough
Better than best
Would be simply to be good enough
If everything I give
Doesn’t seem like a lot
If it’s all that I got
Baby tell that could be good enough “

Summing Up The First Quarter..

Recently I turned 25. Its kind of tough to think through the passing moments, really. Especially when you consider the first quarter of life as a milestone that passed by, acceding to no will of yours. Much of the complexities of being a twenty something is already addressed by some blessed soul over here. I identify with most of it. Yet, life is more than just a summation of miseries, woes, troubles and confusion and I don’t choose to cast a negative cloud on what has been an enriching journey. There is a lot of sunshine, some perfect moments, a few relationships of lifetime, reflections, solitude, lessons earned, studies unlearned, and some cherished people who filled my life with fond memories. Through the walk of life, I discovered joy in music, books, writing, woods, friends, family, mentors and myself which filled my life with love, laughter and a sense of celebration.

My experiments with life have evolved with the different phases that I whizzed by trading my innocence with apathy. Now, am wondering as to how to name those stages? Should I call them Childhood, Adolescence, and My Struggle to Grow Up or should I adhere to the society standards and treat them as Education, and Settlement? When I got all I wanted or asked for, there was a sheer joy of achievement and when I didn’t, there was a huge lesson hidden in the reflection of that experience. It wasn’t all roses, yet while looking back, I realize that those little setbacks and failures taught me more than those larger than life kind of victories (they seemed that way when I was there ).

Now let me confess this, I had a fabulous set of memories of growing up. My first 25 years that rolled by left me no regrets! Life is indeed beautiful. Call me Ulpasantoshi or easy to please, yet that is the big truth of my life. Words fall flat if I have to express my gratitude to my loving family which shaped me and been a pillar of strength, fabulous mentors who watched over when I faltered, friends offering companionship and acceptance in need and deed, and a lot of strangers and acquaintances who knowingly or unknowingly etched their footprints through innocent interactions. It is indeed people and nature, and the relationships I created with them which made me what I am.

Every day that I wake up in presents me with new challenges or opportunities,of which I passed up some, while exploring some. There is some realization and an immense depth of learning along the way, which I plan to record here for my sake so that when I look back after another 25 years, I can muse on what changed and what stayed on. I know it sounds rather ambitious, but I plan to stay around savoring life for another 3 quarters at the least.

I have learned to appreciate elders, value experience, cherish people, share a smile, care with empathy, love without expecting reciprocation, cheer for the fellow men, endorse goodness whenever I can, enjoy my company in those moments of solitude, face uncertainty, live in the moment and to accept myself for what I am. And am practicing with myself to incorporate them in every pace of life. There are some things that I am trying hard to give up. Like wondering about cosmic questions like the purpose of life, playing the Nostradamus, Ignoring the present in an attempt to design future, postponing happiness, procrastination, transactional relationships, materialistic pursuits and being a rat in the race. That’s a constant battle that I wage on a daily basis with the inner demons, to get that right equation for holistic life.

This first quarter is all about developing roots, as I can feel that a lot of my convictions have only become stronger with age. Glad to trade my innocence for those wonderful moments, memories and experiences that altered me in minute ways, I see a long road ahead to work with myself in translating values to action, moments to memories, and dreams to reality.

To sum it up, let me borrow from Robert Frost.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”

Maha Shiva Ratri..

To Day is The Night of Lord Shiva.. It feels so special and divine as my mind drifts to those devotional days of childhood times where this ritual is celebrated wholeheartedly in my hometown.

A trip down the memory lane reminds me of those days of Diligent fasting the whole day and night, Melodious and Soulful prayers like Chadrashekhara Astakam, Shiva Panchakshara Strotram, Linga Astakam, Scrambling for various fruits, Decorating the idols with various kinds of flowers for symbolic ritual of Shiva’s marriage to Parvati late in the night, Passing the entire night resisting sleep, playing with pals or watching the good old black and white Lord Shiva movies like Bhakta Kanappa, Markandeya and so on, marching to River Krishna or Godavari and taking a dip early at the crack of dawn, soaking in the fuss of all the elders and inventing our own form of mischief.. Those are the days of fun, play and prayer as they paint my memory with nostalgia and warmth.

I am planning today to take the fast, visit Lord Shiva’s temple and complete it by recollecting all those fond memories of this ritual. For all those agnostics, devotees, cynics and confirmed atheists, I have nothing to say, as belief is a very personal concept. God for me is as much true as the faith that I keep on him or her. Yet, a little reflection makes me dwell on how my feelings towards rituals have evolved over all these years. My awareness, understanding, and the actions towards the rituals take a new definition every year and they reinvent themselves both qualitatively and quantitatively. And that makes me reiterate my inner belief that only experience matters in the end.

You Are Not The Same Gal Anymore..

Ouch! That innocent observation did hurt! And it pained much more as I know it has a grain of truth.

Agreed that I lost a little bit of peace of mind in trying to be a rat in the race.
Agreed that am not connecting with those people who really matter in my life.
Agreed that the dreamer in me went on a strike to protest my callous indifference.

Mea Culpa..

No time to watch the sunbeams painting the sky in yellow and gold.
No time to bask in the moonshine from my portico in the afterglow of a fulfilling day.
No time to relish in fresh morning breeze swaying over my silkened hair.

Yet, my dear pal, let me offer this political explanation. In this age full of adrenaline and confusion, I feel as if I am chasing illusions and grandiose dreams – of trying to make it big in life. This rat race metrics can make me quite dazed especially if I have to conform to the trite conventional standards. In this run to nowhere, I am missing the acknowledgment of the present and the beauty of small things that paint life in infinitesimal detail. Yet, to confess, I am working on it and be patient with me.

I change roz roz, and this is time or a phase in life where am grappling the unknown and the darkness. Yet, as a realist, let me acknowledge this as well. I believe that eternal optimism is any day better than persistent pessimism. Let me connect with myself as life seems to be sweeping me in deluge!

Mirror Talk..

Have you ever tired doing it? It helps me ease any sort of pangs any moment. And no stop that chuckle, its not my feminine vanity which makes me say that. Especially, when life is like a gloomy cloud casting a dark shadow on your spirits, a little Mirror talk always helps.

Misery loves company. Sounds rather like a worn out cliche right? Yet, how true it is! Misery eats mind like a worm and creeps in soul like a surreptitious cancer. And may be that’s why we indulge in the sheer drudgery of misery as it invades our senses.

Ever looked within when you are desperately dull and down? Life may look like a bottomless pit then, all it needs is a change of perspective to look at the brighter side of things. Everyone needs a mirror at times. What do you catch in those deep reflections? Some impressions are so deep that only lonely sojourn can help you find them. Walk to the nearest mirror, make all sort of antics, flush sadness with vehemence, pat your shoulder for this wonderful chance and thank God for all the love you have in life.

In one of those insightful conversations I had, One of my pals gave this beautiful example -”They say that the early bird gets the worm, but why don’t they realize that the early worm gets caught? Decide whether you are a worm or a bird before waking up and act accordingly”. May be all that misery of the moment can be swept by a fresh perspective or a different mood. May be all that was needed is a change of mind or a new look with pinked tinted glasses.

All Motion Is Not Action..

Something that I heard from a Colleague today. Made perfect sense!

Yes, indeed smart work counts.

Devil’s Most Used Instrument…

This little story is most profound as it sinks in the thought. I couldn’t help sharing it!

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It was advertised that the devil was going to put his tools up for sale. On the date of the sale, the tools were placed for public inspection; each tool being marked with its sale price. They were a treacherous lot of implements… Hatred, Envy, Jealousy, Deceit, Lying, Pride, and so on.

Laid apart from the rest was a harmless looking tool, that appeared to have been heavily used, and was priced very high.

“What is the name of this tool?” asked one of the purchasers, pointing to it.

“That is Discouragement,” replied the devil.

“Why have you priced it so high?”

“Because it is more useful to me than all the others. I can pry open and get inside people’s hearts with that when I cannot get near them with my other tools. Once I get inside, I can make them do what I choose. It is badly worn because I use it on almost everyone, since very few people know that it belongs to me.”

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There are some stories which require a moment to read but a life time to comprehend. And discouragement is like a slow poison. Who says language doesn’t matter? One word can lit someone’s face and one moment can change somebody’s life. We love, live, cry, smile, share and care through it. So be careful while using it. Hope you would remember this little story next time when you are tempted to indulge in destructive feedback.

In The Spirit of Silent Music..

In a Blue Evening, Clear and Chilled,
Stilled in the Silent Chords of Music..
I sighed at the sight of soulful melody..

Music is a feeling and not sound,
How content I am, I can’t place in words,
As the joy of living is only sung and felt..

As the touch of resonating notes breath life,
And evoke the gentlest rhythms in my cold being,
I lay thawed there in spent emotions..

Credit Sharing…

Am just back from a little crib session and this was a hot topic there. How surprising it is to see this issue popping up in so many conversations. Credit Sharing is an important aspect of managing any team structure and I am sad to see many ignore it in their way to glory.

I am not trying to bring in Ayn Rand philosophy of selfishness here as in the current organizational context, in Indian industry, we work with people and the more we grow in our career, the more our success is dependent on the inputs and support offered by the others. Especially in IT industry, where a lot of work is structured around groups and teams, it is even ridiculous to ascribe the credit to a single person in the success of a project. Yet, I see this phenomenon of credit snatching and credit hiding instead of credit sharing. I don’t see any logic in blaming team for failure and appreciating manager for success.

In fact, some of the best leaders I have met in the industry are successful in their career are those who realize the potential of the people working for them and put it to effective use by aiding to their professional and personal growth. Though I hear some say that don’t mix up emotions in professional life, how can it be possible that we are emotionally insensitive to the people around us?

I can sense that people follow leaders, not the rule books. Please be the guiding hand to those you work with, making sure that they don’t need anything instead of dictating their lives and taking credit for their efforts. A little bit of recognition can do wonders for motivation levels and the work environment. And all those entry level people, it also means acknowledging the existence of the security personnel or those receptionists instead of treating them like pieces of furniture. A little pat on the back, a gentle smile or a small nod can do wonders, trust me.

Of Thorn Birds, Pain And Sacrificies..

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” There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then singing among the savage branches, it impales itself on the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out carol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen , and God in his heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain………Or so says the legend…”

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The only one reason why I came across this paragraph in ‘Thorn Birds’ by Colleen MacCullough is due to the effective PR of a pal who can’t help himself from sharing anything beautiful with the world around him. I loved this legend for the beauty of expression more than anything. Yet, I go back to it often and wonder.. Why do people feel pain is gain? Though my views have grown more tolerant towards pain, this legend reminds me of an achingly painful and purposeless sacrifice of the Nightingale for making of the red rose in the Oscar Wilde stories.

When I reflect back in one of those lazy chair moods, I wonder why is that we have so much love to pain? Pain is intense, private, overwhelming and absorbing. And guess we enjoy the high of being heroes of our lives, fighting all those unpredictabilities, chaos and let downs of life all alone. And guess thats why we remember and relate to the Romeo-Juliet, Heer-Ranjha’s of the world more than many happily ever after stories (I can’t even quote a popular love story with a happy ending! Ahem!) . Yet, We love to rationalize the pain, agony, sacrifices and sufferings of life with strange reasons best known to the cosmic entities. And we idolize those sacrifices and sufferings too. Of all the mysteries of life, aren’t we being masochistic by celebrating pain?

Silent Despair..

Most people resign themselves in life for that. At times I do that too. Dreaming for four leaved cloves while the life is happening around me. Is it ennui or desperation?

These days, life is filled with silent despair..

So much that there is little interest left in anything. Running through one of those phases of life where patience is everything. Whats keeping my sanity is some calming and soothing music.

Soul searching is like peeling an onion. I never know whether I will end up with a a valid criticism, reason or a perspective for all sorts of actions that I do. Boredom is winning the battle with me these days and guess I really cant relate to those multitude of things that cheesed me off. The chaos around me is affecting my composure and balance with blank noises. I know naught what I feel anymore.. Hmm.. One of those muted times..

Song Of the Day..

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Kisiki muskuraahaton pe ho nisaar
Kisika dard mil sake to le udhaar
Kisike waaste ho tere dil mein pyaar
Jeena issi ka naam hai

Maana apni jeb se fakeer hain
Phir bhi yaaron dil ke ham ameer hain
Mitte jo pyaar ke liye woh zindagi
Jale bahaar ke liye woh zindagi
Kisi ko ho na ho hamein to aitbaar
Jeena issi kaa naam hai

Rishta dil se dil ke aitbaar ka
Zinda hai hameen se naam pyaar ka
Ke mar ke bhi kisi ko yaad aayenge
Kisi ke aansuon mein muskuraayenge
Kahega phool har kali se baar baar
Jeena issi kaa naam hai
Kisiki muskuraahaton pe ho nisaar..

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It been ages since I last heard of this melody in Anari. Yet, in some rare moods of the moment, you hear those childhood memories of melodies flashing in mind and I just cant resist the temptation of singing along in carefree frolic. Here’s to the love, cheer, joy and fun that this song spreads. If someone have this song in their music collection, please do share!

Thanks to the pal who found this for me. It is available here.

Today..

There is a curious longing for psychological shutdown.. Dunno why. Is this a mood of nothingness? Or a phase of psychosomatic illness? Must be a severe affect of Monday Blues.. Life sounds so evenly balanced now, with full of chaos everywhere! How I long for the warmth of my bed and a cozy nap!

Reasoning With Life..

Sweetheart.. Reason it out.
Be Sensible. Apply Logic.

Does these terms sound familiar? I guess many of us prudent individuals have heard or said this quite often at times, however so futile the situation may seem. Let me be a candid confessor here. I have given up on logic in personal space. However mature I may feel or behave, I know that nothing works on reason or logic especially in relationships. Emotions stand for no reason and love heeds to no advice. Somehow I enjoy that drama that unfolds whenever we deal with relationships. Guess that sheer touch of madness is what makes us sane otherwise.

I have seen many individuals make a fool of themselves in their pursuits. And many more who build ego walls based on false premises to battle their affections. I wonder how many would ponder over this fact.. But when the judgment day arrives, we still count the number of lives we touched or the lasting bonds that we built as our accomplishments. Guess being on the top holds no worth if there are no one around to share the joy.. Yet, I guess our typical tendency is to pursue unworthy things with all fervor with disregard to those pursuing us. Hmmmm.. Reasoning with life never works..

In A Glass Paradise, I Shed..

all those miseries that I have seen for the future through those unspoken tears rolling over my eyes..

What hurt me was not the indifference of the world but the misinterpretation of my pal. Or is it that I am afraid to face the truth? Why do I feel the need or urge to justify myself, or explain myself that I am not what they think. Yet, I gave up.. Silence is the best answer for all those judgments that are meted out and those expectations that are set on me.

Coz, still I don’t have an easy answer to the mystery called me. Yet, its nice to have people around to whom I can be as nasty when I want to and pass all my moody zingers whenever I like..

Dunno why, yet its nice to to feel that I can still cry. I guess its ok to cry even when there is no reason. Its okay to bare one’s heart for those little disappointments and soul shattering experiences in life. They make me feel more human, especially when am tired of playing the big girl. Thank you tears, for being there when it mattered most. Hear me out, oh Mr. Gloominess.. You can visit me anytime, but only for a moment. Only to show me how wonderful the blue sky or the rosy tinted glasses are.. So do remember when u drop by my door for a brief hello.

Everyone thinks I am at a tricky phase of life. When it isn’t so? Things would seem as dark or light as I want them to be. Nothing shatters a dream than a compromise. I believe, hope and pray everyday to not see the light of a day when I had to negotiate with my life. I guess its tough life being a dreamer. Even in a glass paradise, my eyes seek the vision of limitless blue sky and a bright rainbow. I can’t really help myself. That eternal optimist survives!

Affirmations!

Brooding over the passing time and blessed by the leisure, I went to take a long walk by myself. Those are times where am truly with myself to reflect, think, observe and celebrate all those beautiful things in life.

Sometimes I feel the need in life to acknowledge all those people who made me what I am and whose presence brought a richness to my experiences in life. Those loving mentors who helped me find direction whenever I felt lost, My loving family who offered me unconditional love, affection and strength when I needed it most, those wonderful people who taught me the lessons of life, and all those who had a hand in shaping my character knowingly or unknowingly.

Yet, to offer acknowledgment and celebrate all those blessed moments, I need to be complete inside and appreciate the goodness in and around me. That prompted me do a series of affirmations indeed for the heroine that lives in me.

We all are achievers and heroes of our lives. Though we lift Mount Everest every day, standing tall through testing times, taking responsibility for the choices that we make, we rarely acknowledge ourselves. We rarely appreciate the little joys of life, those shimmering moon beams that ride the night sky, that surprising little sunshine on a gloomy day or that welcoming summer rain as we wade through our life in perennial worries, postponing happiness. Some people may wish to believe that life runs in pursuit of happiness. Yet, for me tomorrow begins now for savoring happiness..

Whenever I see a gloomy cloud threatening to shadow my cheerfulness, I usually say to myself that I am born with a joy in heart and smile on my face and my journey in life is filled with cheer and beauty..Sounds little childish, yet it works for me! Guess everyone is allowed a touch of madness once a day I say! As long as we find something to appreciate, conscience to guide, companions to share and world to explore, life is a wonderful deal! Dont you think so?