My Second Innings

Nudged by friends and family, I mused about writing my thoughts in a place Then I remembered that I used to blog a long time ago... and I somehow recovered my long lost blog , dusted it and a glance at my old posts gave me a glimpse into the person I used to be ! Whoa! I might not be the same person now ....There's a saying that I remember : you never meet the same person twice, not even in the same person . I acknowledge that person that I was in the past and I try to make sense of her thoughts with due respect and a little love. 

 As November rolls in ,it usually brings with it a sense of finality about the year. It is around then that I start taking stock of the year that has been and the year ahead. I wouldn't say it is quite the celebratory feeling that accompanies the new year’s eve. This is sober, more reflective and, has a sense of gravitas to it. This exercise of going through my old blog has given me a larger scope for reflection...13 years is a long time...lots of life events, twists and turns... I had lost my father, there was a pandemic, my children have grown older ... There is a sense of quiet maturity, of leaving behind the 'young parent' avatar and embracing the real 'adult ' phase of my life.

 I walk around the home after dinner, my mind lost in a podcast discussing the nodes of the moon. The points where the moon’s orbit around the earth, intersect with the earth’s orbit around the sun. I listen to the mythology behind Rahu and Ketu and the archetypes make beautiful sense to me. I turn my podcast off with a sigh. There is so much beauty in the now, so much to take in just outside my kitchen window that it feels overwhelming. For a person who was so accustomed to and forever thinking of, planning for the future, this new phase feels like an aberration. I think of the years ahead but in the way I look at old pictures. They seem surreal and out of touch, unreal in some sense. 

 I no longer intend to recount the minutiae of my life on this blog. I miss doing that. It feels right in a strange way. I have outgrown that stage in my life where I felt compelled to share everything. Now is the season where I hug things to myself, content that what I enjoy is enough for me.

Where is the Creative You?

Remember how much fun you had when you were a kid? Inventing cool stuff. Creating your own games. Being a rock star in front of the mirror. Making up stupid songs with your stupid friends. Killing bad guys (maybe that was just me). Singing, dancing, drawing, painting, writing fantastical stories. Telling awesome lies to get out of stuff (me again). Generally being creative. You didn't need to worry about what your singing voice sounded like, whether or not your dancing looked silly or whether your stories made much sense at all. It didn't matter one bit because it was all about freedom of expression, developing your creative self, hanging out with your friends and of course, having fun. It was mostly about fun. And you had plenty. Because you were creating.
You only learned to worry and be self-conscious about your creative self as you got older. And what a sad day it was when you learned that lesson. As you became more and more self-conscious, you became less and less creative and adventurous. You sang less, danced less, created less and took less chances. Had less fun too. Scared of public places and attention. Creative You went into semi-retirement. Looking out the window every day but rarely coming out to play.

You do remember Creative You don't you? And you do remember when you didn't care what people thought about your ability or talent? It was much easier then wasn't it?
I believe that most of our educational systems actually beat the creative desire out of our kids. By the time they reach their teenage years they have learned that singing, dancing, inventing, painting, drawing and expressing their creativity is less than desirable out in the real world and should take a back seat to all things academic. Not that we all need to be performers or artists (as such), but we do all need to express our creativity because on some level, that's who we are. Without creativity and original thought we simply become boring, unfulfilled clones of each other.

"I'm not sure what I think, what do you think I should think?"

We're so worried about fitting in and not looking foolish that we get scared to let our creative self have a voice. If I didn't let my creative self have a voice this blog wouldn't exist and you wouldn't be reading this article.

This is all I care about....

If there's ever a time when it's easy to differentiate between what we humans want and what we actually need, just watch people in the middle of a natural disaster; humanity at it's rawest and perhaps most authentic. All the superficial bullshit disappears. If you want to know what really matters, listen to what comes out of the mouth of a person facing tragedy, devastation and the possibility of imminent death - either their own or someone they love. I'll tell you what they're not worried about; their shoe collection, their laptop, their hair, their make-up, their wallet, their car, how fat their legs are, or what other people might be saying or thinking about them. In an instant they have a completely different mindset and perspective and all of a sudden what is important - truly important - becomes glaringly obvious. Being confronted with one's mortality will do that to you.


People are never more honest, aware, conscious or in the moment than when they are faced with the distinct possibility of dying in the very near future. It's amazing how much clarity, certainty, purpose, ability, strength and even intelligence people can find when they need to. And it's also a great pity that so many of us spend a lifetime not using what we have. What we've always had. I personally believe that on some level, we all know what really matters but we let our greed, selfishness, laziness and our addiction to instant gratification get in the way of what we could and should do.


Let's hope that you and I can always have that same insight, awareness and gratitude without having to go through a devastating experience.

Money and You

Like it or loath it, we all have a relationship with money. We don't really have a choice; it's somewhat of a necessity. Unless of course you're a skilled hunter, gatherer, farmer, living entirely off the land in your own hand-built hut, wearing animal skins and residing in some remote, exotic location. Who happens to have Internet access. Of course.

Money means different things to different people. Or different things for the same people at different stages of their journey - stress, anxiety, freedom, choices, arguments, happiness, sadness, motivation, sleepless nights, elation and sadly things like crime, violence


When we really dumb it down and we take the emotion out of it (yes, some of us are very emotional - periodically irrational - about money), it's kinda simple; money is a resource. It's a resource that let's us do stuff. Drive this car, live in that house, wear that dress or suit, fly to that country, enjoy this type of lifestyle; for some, pretty superficial and unimportant stuff, and for others, very significant stuff.

For the majority, money is something to be used in a practical way to live our lives - pay bills, buy food, educate our kids, fix the broken fence and enjoy the annual holiday. While for others, it's their life-force; it's what gets them out of bed each day. It's their obsession. While many see it for what it is (a resource), others make money their god; they worship it and they spend a lifetime being hopelessly enslaved to it. Usually at great personal expense.

What about the notion of being rich without having significant money or assets? Well, that depends on your definition of wealth. In my opinion, some of the wealthiest people don't have much money at all and some of the poorest people are literally millionaires - it's a matter of perception and definition isn't it?

At the other end of the scale we can find the anti-establishment, anti-material possession, anti-money brigade who see money as evil and the pursuit of it analogous to sin. This doesn't seem to be a very practical, realistic or empowering paradigm to inhabit either. There's nothing wrong with money. After all, money can't be good or bad, it's just a bunch of paper that's been assigned a value by us! No, money only becomes bad or destructive when it comes to represent something that it shouldn't.

Now before I get labelled that I'm a hypocrite ,don't misinterpret my thoughts on money. Making money or being wealthy is not of itself, a bad thing. In fact, for the most part I admire people who succeed in business - as long as that success doesn't come at the cost of their values, their health, their relationships, their integrity, their life, or their emotional, psychological and spiritual development. As long as we recognise and use money for what it is and don't bow down before it, we should have a relatively healthy relationship with it. Do I have financial goals? Yep. Are they at the top of my list? Nope. Do I focus on, or obsess about, money? Nope. Have I ever struggled financially? Yep. In fact, for the majority of my adult life I have not earned a lot of money.Of course it's an issue and a challenge from time to time, but it's not why I do what I do. If I was all about money, I wouldn't be writing this article - I'd be doing something that I get paid for. I've been driven by a desire to do whatever I do with excellence, to have fun and to impact the lives of others in a positive way - I see my (moderate) financial success as a by-product of that pursuit.

People often suggest that "money is the root of all evil", which is actually a misquote of a scripture from the New Testament which says, "the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil". See, even two thousand years ago they were talking about this stuff!

Didn't know I could be theological did you? Me either!

Who are terrorists?

"Amma, Who are terrorists?" was a question asked by my 6 year old daughter as I was following the TV channel coverages on that fateful 26th November...I wasn't sure how to answer her question...I just told her they are bad people ...like the bad monsters she comes across in those 'HeMan' series on Cartoon channels...And I am not sure if she understood it or not...for I thought she is too young to understand it...

It could have been you. It could have been me. We were fortunate. We are alive. But
hundreds of other victims – our people - who died last week, weren’t as lucky. They were at the wrong place at the wrong time…. and paid with their lives. Mumbai received a body blow from which it may take years and years to recover. Just as 9\11 changed the lives of millions of New Yorkers, 26\11 will remain etched on our consciousness – a tragic reminder of Mumbai’s exposed flanks and extreme vulnerability.

Collectively we’re grappling with the ineffectiveness of the system and what was presented to us as information. Politicians, soulless and emotionless, were addressing the country while reading off of Teleprompters. Can you not feel anything? Can you say nothing to make us feel just a little more secure in your hands? Poorly conducted “press conferences” announcing the death and casualty toll for foreigners with the speaker unable to successfully read a list from a sheet of paper, confusing Austria for Australia and generally making us look like illiterate idiots to a global audience. It left me embarrassed and struggling to find pride in our government.

Our abysmal failure to secure Mumbai does not need any further amplification. Questions that may remain unanswered revolve around the puzzling time lapses that cost precious lives. Why was the army not called in much earlier, why the delay in getting the Marcos and the NSG into action? Forget intelligence failure that could not intercept an attack of such a magnitude – for hours and hours after the first burst of gunfire, our cops and firemen appeared totally confused and ill prepared – as if they were waiting for a go ahead from some ‘higher authority’ (who? ). Bureaucratic tangles may have paralysed some of our dynamic and brilliant police officers, unable to move without those dratted ‘clearances’ , possibly from a sleepy Delhi. Why not more autonomy for our top cops?Viewers watched in horror, as the poor constables attempted to do their best, armed with lathis!! The terrorists on the other hand were armed to the teeth with the world’s most advanced weapons. How can a megapolis of this size, with its unique topography, hope to cope with a terror operation of this scale and sophistication? Despite the odds being stacked so heavily against our men, they bravely battled on and decimated our enemies to cries of , ‘Bharat Mata ki Jai.’ Mumbai itself shone through the tragedy, as average Mumbaikars rallied around brilliantly, expressing solidarity, compassion and a splendid display of maturity via emails, smes, phone calls and visits to affected families. Mumbai stood together as one entity. This in itself is nothing short of a feat…..a miracle.
The ordeal may be over…. but not the battle. Faces of all those who died, must be remembered. No forgetting, no forgiving this time. The time for that is over. Stay together. Stay angry. May the force be with us as we start to heal. Once again.

Entitlement

All my life I grew up feeling entitled to a whole lot of things like a happy childhood, loving parents, a roof over my head, clothes the way I wanted it. You name it. In the natural progression of things dictated by what my peers did, I felt entitled and more often than not, got what I felt entitled to.

So, what happens when something I feel entitled to does not quite happen the way I want? I sometimes cry unfair and make a stinking scene. Sometimes I look away with tears clouding my eyes. Other times, I bite back the grief that threatens to overcome me and smile my way through. Sometimes, I even say “sour grapes”. Bah!

This morning however, I sought to look at the underlying problem. Why do I feel entitled to whatever it is that I want? I had no answers. However, it did make me think of all the factors that compound my feelings. Peer pressure, Society, my self image tied to other’s perception of me.

While I am no closer to finding any solution to handle my expectations of myself I figured I’d make a post of it.

Soulmate-a pain in the neck!

... and they lived happily ever after ...

That is how our favorite childhood fairytales have always ended.
That is how the romantic movies from Hollywood always end.
And that is what the media agencies advertisements promise will happen if we'll purchase the right toothpaste, car, T-shirt or life insurance policy.

In short, "...and they lived happily ever after..." is what we have been conditioned to believe our intimate relationship should look like.

WAKE UP FOLKS!

I hate to tell you this, but... GROW UP!

We were conditioned to believe that life was going to be a bed of roses... a piece of cake... a walk in the park.
Of course, what 'they' forgot to mention when we were kids, was that roses have thorns, cakes contain calories, and a walk in the park significantly increases your odds of stepping in dog's you know what...

One of the major myths we were led to believe in, since the 12th century, is the myth of romantic love.
A myth that nowadays has its new-age label - the well-known 'Soul Mate'.

Romantic love is probably the most popular path to personal satisfaction and self-esteem in the western world.
In our modern culture, we replaced religion with romantic love as the means by which we seek ecstasy, meaning and wholeness.

Romantic love does not only mean 'loving someone', it also means 'being in love'.
When we are in love we believe we have found the ultimate meaning of life, as revealed in another human being - our Soul Mate.

We feel 'instantaneous completeness' and believe that the so-called missing piece to our life and to ourselves, has finally been found.

Life suddenly seems to have a wholeness, meaning, direction and purpose.
There is this intensity, which lifts us high above our usual perception of reality.

For most people, these exciting feelings are assumed to be the definite signs of the ultimate lover.

Unconsciously, we immediately create a demand that our partner always provide us with this feeling of ecstasy and intensity.

Despite that ecstasy, within a few weeks (or months) we usually encounter feelings of loneliness, alienation and
frustration over our inability to create intimate, loving and committed relationship.

Usually we blame our partner for failing us.

What seldom occurs to us is that, it is we who need to transform our own unconscious beliefs, expectations and
demands, which we impose upon our lover.

Once aware of it, we realize that this relationship brings unhealed emotional 'stuff' into our conscious mind.
Only from this perspective, can we assume our responsibility for the situation and begin to deal with what comes to the surface.

From this point of recognition, we can then begin to heal ourselves.

I am convinced that we join in relationship with another person with the purpose of supporting each other's personal-growth process.

In order to support us on our path we need this private trainer or coach to walk with us.

Imagine one of those famous football or basketball trainers, as your personal coach, 24 hours a day, all year round...
I can see your horrified expression from here...

Well, this personal coach is your Soul Mate.

... not exactly what you had in mind when you saw that gorgeous someone at a party...

The role of your Soul Mate is to confront you when you're losing your integrity, to kick your ass when you're getting lazy, push your buttons until you gain clarity of your destructive patterns, and so on...

If you and your partner had both attained enlightenment, you probably wouldn't have so much trouble.
Your partner would have all the compassion in the world, and you would have the overview to see your partner's contribution to your life.

And then of course, if both of you are fully enlightened, then you probably don't need a Soul Mate...

However, assuming that both of you haven't reached that stage of full self-realization yet, life is a bit more
complicated...

I read somewhere that the phrase "And they lived happily ever after" is actually a long-forgotten medieval punch line that, when translated, means, "And, boy - ha ha! - are they in for the surprise of their lives!"

Have fun...

Independence....

I am still mulling over what independence is...I see my neighbour's dog, sleek and well-fed, cared for and loved, with a collar that marks her lack of independence....and I see the street dog, with its ribs sticking out, cringing at the stones it expects to be thrown any minute, yet hopeful that a scrap of food will be thrown its way....is independence always good if it is not accompanied by financial independence? But yet so many people choose it...people in highly-paid jobs move to work where they will be independent, and do not count the rewards in terms of money.

I am very thoughtful today; yesterday I watched a panel discussion on TV, in which, after listening to speakers from the IT sector and the police describing the security measures being taken to counter terrorism in this city, someone in the audience got up and forcibly made the point, that it is the poor people who are the least protected by the police, and they who are the most affected by acts of terrorism. So I am pondering over the eternal question of why those who need the most protection never fall under society's umbrella, why the weak are left to fend for themselves....

A very vetti post!

Parenting often makes you think about the oddest things in life. Of late, I have been fascinated by how the different parts of the human body can handle varying degrees of temperature. When I offer something piping hot to Nishant, I like to feed him the first few bites with my hand because I know if my hand can handle the temperature, the tongue, which is more heat tolerant than the hand, can handle it too. The opposite is true for hair wash. If the water is not hot enough for the body, it is good enough for the head. At night, I make it compulsory for Nishant to wear his socks because if his feet, which retains the heat in the body, is protected, he should be fine even if the blankie fails to keep him cosy. The one thing that is still a mystery though is how to protect the sensitive nose that sometimes acts like an immature sibling who turns green with envy when attention is lavished on the brother or sister. As I lay down fully bundled up with a pair of socks, a sweater and two comforters on me, content that nothing can come between me and my sleep, my nose makes it presence felt by getting a tad chillier. A battle pursues between my nose and my comforter for the next few minutes and before I know it, I slip into glorious sleep; only to wake up in the middle of the night when my body declares loud and clear that in my enthusiasm to stay snug, perhaps I went a little too far. Apologetically, I toss out my sweater and socks, before I slip into dreamland again.

The secret "me"

I have always wondered if I am what “I” am. Sometimes I feel I have seen so many “I” s in “me”. Suppose that everything going on in my head in twenty four hours could be accurately recorded on a videotape…My dreams and day time fantasies, conversations with myself and appeals to the gods, the music and the memories that float about and all the loony trivia that strays around in my mind… Suppose all of this material could be played in a theater - with multiple screens and DTS Dolby sound system - A pretty sensational show, I’d guess. MTV, Sci-fi thriller, M&B romances all these combined couldn’t compete with what goes behind the closed door of the secret side of our minds.The operative word here is “secret”.
Public lives are lived out on the job and in the market place, where certain rules , conventions, laws and social customs keep most of us in line.
Private lives are lived out in the presence of our family and friends and neighbors who must be considered and respected, even though the rules and proscriptions here are looser than what’s allowed in public.
But in our secret lives, inside our own heads, almost anything goes…
We alone are answerable for what we think and do when nobody else is around and involved.
Inside this tight boundaries of flesh and bone is a borderless jungle in which clearings exist. In these open spaces, there may be an amusement park, a zoo, a circus, a library, a museum , a theater, or a landscape stranger than Mars.
We refer to ourselves in first person singular - “I” - but inside it’s more like first person plural. Most of the time my inner life seems like a ventriloquist act. A ceaseless dialogue between me and my “dummy”. Oddly enough, the “dummy” is smarter than I am !
It seems as if me and my “dummy” have lots of company. There’s quite a crowd in here with us. A child and its parents, a wise old person, a mechanic, demons, a fool, a scientist, a comedian, a musician, a dancer (?!), an athlete, a magician, a philosopher, a silly romantic girl, a practical woman, and multitudes more…The population of a small town inhabits the landscape of my min! And a town meeting is always in session.
I can fully relate to the occasional movies about multiple personalities. This is not news to me. In the best sense of the word, I run an asylum - a safe refuge - in my mind! And it’s not a problem. As long as I keep the shades down and the doors closed and don’t let anybody loose, all this is well. As long as I am firmly in control of my secret life, the world sees me as sane and functional. Or Am I ? Sometimes it is hard to tell.

Do we need to have dreams?

Dreams, desires, directions, priorities, fear of losing something while you urge something to achieve….
People, friends, colleagues, family...Their expectations and your wish list … a clash between them …you need to live for others and be true to their expectation or do what you feel right? after all everybody has justification …take the proven route ; do the things whole world is doing or take the least known path and be ready to face those questions and stares !!
Dreams, opportunities, hard work and still unsure of the destination…calamities and troubles when you expect least!! A sudden stop and everything looks uncertain...Feel like all the efforts will go for a toss and it does some times!! And then still cannot give up and start from scratch!!
Good times, bad times and testing times!! Every moment surpasses the previous one and you move ahead …still hope for best and thank god for what you got …
Sometimes I wonder do we need to have dreams. Or do what the whole crowd does!! Does it gives meaning to life and peace of mind at the end of it ? Don’t know !!
Yet it is mere surge of thoughts ; knitted into words …still the haze is there like the layer thick fog on the glass window pane ; making impossible to look beyond …waiting for sun rays to come and do the magic !! Yeah the wait could be long and tiring...but I have not given up still ….