Amazing women in my life - part 5

Although I am writing this on International Women's Day, I personally do not believe that we have to have a special day to commemorate women ... we ought to do it every single day at all moments in our lives.  This can not be a politically correct, nice to do thing, it has to be in our bones, in our blood and in our hearts.

I started to write this note about another woman that I met recently .... She is 90 plus years old, lives in an ashram in Haridwar ... all by herself.  Her children live in India but away from her.  She has been living in that Ashram for the last 28 years.  While going to the ashram, I was expecting to see someone who was old, withering and waiting to somehow spend the last days of her life .... instead I met someone who was old alright, but boy, oh, boy, was she feisty!   Her energy, memory and zest for life hit right at some of the sterotypical ideas I was holding about being old and about old women.

Her name is Santosh Rani ... She was born in Peshawar in the early twentieth century, came to India after the partition, is the eldest of six siblings.  Got married, borne six children, four of whom are alive.  After her husband passed away, she chose to stay at this Ashram as she valued her freedom and her own way of living.

After she met me for the first time,  she asked me about my family, my daughter, as though she had known me for ever.  In fact, she had only heard about me and my family from her daughter some months back.

As she sat there talking about her children, I could not help but notice the utter pragmatism with which she approached life ... she weighed pros and cons carefully, believed in  choosing that which made most sense, even if that meant having to give up some immediate gains and losses.

After chatting with her for a while  I  gingerly asked her whether she wished to come with us to Hrishikesh but it would also mean 4 to 5 hours drive? Her face lit up and she said "Main to chal padungi"! (I would gladly hop in and come along).  First layer of my stereotyping of older women peeled off at that moment.

Not only did she come with us and enjoyed the journey, she also chatted about her life, every detail intact in her memory, where all she stayed, which year were her children born, how was life then, everything.  The second layer of forgetful, old women picture peeled off.

While we were at Hrishikesh, she insisted that we should keep her seated on a wheelchair  at a corner of a fairly busy road, and go down and visit Lachhmanjhula (the famous hanging bridge over Ganga at Hrishikesh).  I was petrified at the idea of keeping her seated on the wheelchair at a corner but she insisted ... "Go, go, have a good time, look around, I will be fine".  While we went down to the river and visited the bridge, I felt very anxious and wanted to come back as early as possible.  When we came back, she was calmly sitting there and  exclaimed that we had come back rather early!  She wanted us to spend some more time but we declined.   I was amazed as to how calm she was and that there was no sense of anxiety at all in her voice.

She came back to the ashram .... laid down on her bed and rested for a while.  We waited for her domestic help to return to be with her.  She talked about needing someone to be with her as it gives her some sense of comfort .... she said if she was as fit as she was earlier, even this would not have been needed!  As though if she could, she would have taken care of herself, and of others, all by herself.

She peeled off the last layer of my imaginary stereotype as she suggested that next time I was there she would "take"  me to Shimla for a trip.  I loved her!

Santosh Rani helped me to believe that helplessness and lack of courage is learnt and are not associated with age or ailments, and that being a woman is a celebration of life.

happy womens day to all of you!

continuity - on the move

We have been touring North India currently  and I have been fascinated by the land, the people and the culture.  More fascinated by the smaller unknown places, people and their little stories.  Presenting one such here:
On the national highway between Chandigarh and Amritsar lies this dhaba which is quite famous in its own way ... the owner proudly told us that cricketer Harbhajan Singh came in the just the other night as he had heard about the place.

We stopped to have so have some tea and breakfast on our way to Amritsar ... the dhaba is teaming with people - all men except two elderly ladies who are sitting there with their family.  As one enters the dhaba, the men unashamedly stare ... not lewdly, just plain simple staring .. no big city like codes of conduct here.  They check you out especially you happen to be a female, not attired in the traditional dress codes of the land and also don't look like them.  No other mal intention here, one just has to get used to being stared at.

The dhaba owner is in his thirties, busy receiving payments and ordering his stuff.  His 8 year old son plays around nearby. We just asked for the boy's name, and out came the story of his family, history of the dhaba, his desire for sending his sons to Australia for higher study because "wohan pe padne wala course bhi acchhe hai ji aur banda ka life bhi settle ho jata hain".  Solid and simple logic.  I wondered whether he has been reading the newspaper about all the "beat up the Indian guy" syndrome there but he seemed so happy at the prospect of sending his sons there, that I decided against it.

On one corner were these two big cauldrons which were on slow fire and were revolving making khoy or rabri (thick milk) while another chap was busy mixing up besan or ground lentils with water and other herbs.



The road in front is busy but had a soothing feel about it, tall trees with shades lined up the road like an avenue, the dhaba had a scene of happy and un hurried chattering, being together kind of feel about it. In front was the green green fields of punjab, spreading into the yonder.

The dhaba has been there for 25 years - started by the owner's father.  He seems quite content with his life and yet have dreams in his eyes for his sons.  I wondered, if I ever came back after ten years or so, who would I see at the counter? would it be one of his sons or would it change hands?


I wished his all the best and walked out .. to another city, to meet some other new people.

What is your idea of peace for yourself?

This question is not about the macro context, of what is happening in the wider context, in the community, in the country or in the world.  This question is asked more from  a fantasized dreamy personal point of view, i.e. when we think of peacefulness for ourselves, what is the idea, thought, imagery, visual for ourselves?

for me, peacefulness for myself brings up imagery of water, shades, trees, nature, quietude, alone amidst modest facilities or infrastructure. lots of sky around, sound of water but not with a sea in front.

place would have red flooring, old styles, may be tiled roof, coconut trees, (sounds like Kerala, na?) - cool breeze, birds chirping around, play of sun and shadow.

what is or are your dreamy peace visuals? 

 

Bloopers of the World - Unite!

Blooper - an embarrassing mistake              :-))

(blunder, boner, boo-boo, botch, bungle, flub, foul-up, fuckup, pratfall, bloomer, error, fault, mistake - a wrong action attributable to bad judgement or ignorance or inattention)

So, as you must have guessed by now, today's topic is bloopers committed by ....  Who, you ask?  Me, obviously to begin with :-)  and then we can move on to nicer stuff, like yours, for instance? He, he!

Let me start:

• my colleague copied me in a mail sent to a client.  I happily responded to him with plenty of snide remarks about the client - little did I realise that I hit the "reply all" button and it was sent to the client and copied to my colleague!  :-((  Needless to say, we did not get the business.
• My partner brought a gentleman to me at an event saying "look who's where!".  Our eyes met, I looked into his eyes earnestly and asked sweetly :"hi, have we met before?"  The person's eyes became frosty and pat came the answer with a frown - "Yes, I had dinner at your place last month"!  Gulp,  I didn't know where to look. 
• Yours truly introducing two persons to each other  as Mr. X please meet Mr. Y , and actually doing exactly the opposite, i.e. telling Mr. X to meet Mr. X and vice versa.  Yikes. :-(
• Now the best for the last - I  recently  sent  a mail to a friend of mine assuring her to not worry too much about  doing what her heart wants, as the  public memory is very short, and ultimately it does not matter, etc, etc.  She sent a response saying she could not stop giggling ever since she received my mail and she quoted:    "Please don't worry, pubic memory is very short"    please note the figurative, literally and existential connotations.  

Ladies and Gentlemen, I rest my case.

And now from some others:

• my dear ex-husband once introduced his mother to his friends as his "mother-in'law".  Predictably, my mother-in-law was not amused at all. Thereafter she never left any chance to loudly broadcast the evil influence that her daughter-in-law had over her dear son!
• one of my dear friends sent a mail to me last night - it was a very intense, very personal, very private mail.  And in her anxiety about ensuring that the mail reached me, she sent it to multiple mail i.ds of mine, albeit with an additional sprinkling of i.ds of other people with similar sounding names.  As a result, her private world was revealed electronically to a much wider audience than she would ever liked them to be. 

what are your bloopers?  Would you like to share?  :-)

Amazing women in my life (part 3) - the story of J

J was born into a trading community in undivided Bengal.  She grew up with a unstable mother, a nervous father and five or six siblings.  As was the custom in her community, she was married off quite early to a man twelve years older to her in the same community.  Barely did she attain puberty, she was pregnant with a child and from this point on, her life took an altogether different turn.  Her mother and her husband both died suddenly in an attack of small pox, which those days was endemic; J flabbergasted by this turn of events, lost her mind and was locked up in a room probably under advice from the local medico. She gave birth to her daughter but could not look after the daughter due to her illness and her mother in law looked after the infant.

It is not known to me for how long J lived in that hazy, misty world of hers, for when she came to our house, she was nearly forty years old.  All these stories about her is her recollection of her past, which would be presented to me by her differently at different points of time; sometime with a bit of spice and sometimes in bitterness, in anger and in utter deep anguish.

But I could guess how she may have passed her time, what did it take for her to get out of that strange world of depression, part manic, part delusional world of hers.  She says when she felt better, she resumed her husband's money lending business to local traders, looked for a suitable match for her only daughter who was in her early teens and got her married off.  Since she came from a middle class family(not educated much but with enough money from trading in the joint family business), life should have sailed smoothly thereafter for her;  but it was not to be.  

One fine morning, her daughter's father in law (who was a small trader) disappeared leaving his family in debt and despair.  Her son-in-law took to drinking and drugs, her daughter came back to J with a little baby boy.  While J's brothers in laws were supportive to begin with, over time they started making their displeasure clear to J that her married daughter with a child were not welcome here, especially when her costs are being shared from the joint family kitty.  By this time, J's money lending business was usurped by J's mother in law and that left her with very little money of her own.

So, for the first time in her life, a housewife and totally unaccustomed to the big bad world outside, J decided to work to support her daughter and her grandson.  The only work that she could find was of domestic help, cooking, etc.  Her first job was in Bihar in a older gentleman's house and his joint family. J learnt to cook, to sweep, to swab, to do all household chores that she was not required to do back at home.

Three years passed, J settled down in her job and was able to maintain her daughter and her family who now had two kids.  But life had other plans for her.  Her toddler grand daughter passed away and her daughter became distraught, unstable and left home never to come back.  J decided to come back to kolkata to look after her grandson and take up the job of a domestic help here.  This is how she came to our family as we were looking for someone to cook and live with us as I was expecting my daughter.  I was working at that time and having someone at home to cook and look after the house was a necessity.

J entered our lives twenty six years ago and she is still around - I am so grateful that she is around although living with her is both a  trying as well as a comforting experience.

J is the pillar of strength and the source of irritation that I have always had around me.  Her being around meant my never having to worry about the safety and nurturance of my daughter, about the maintenance and upkeep of home, about taking care of my father, about our three pets and the rest of the household, i.e. me and my husband.  She knew exactly who needed what and what needed to be done when.  She ensured that the part timers were doing their job well and she had the best interest of the household at all points of time.

She made my life hell through her over demanding, over inquisitive and over dominating nature.  She had the answers to all questions asked, she offered advice to every problem that we ever faced irrespective of its personal or private nature, she wanted to take leave the minute she knew I had to attend some important meetings, she decided what was best for home and for my daughter whether I agreed or not and she constantly sniggered at my attempts to be a good mother by trying to read up on child rearing or seeking advise from others or trying out something new.  In other words, she filled all the voids for the "fault finding mother-in-law", the 'over nosy aunt", the "very critical aunt-in-law" and all the stereotypes that one can ever imagine.

In fact, if I were to write all the stories about J, it will fill up an entire book and will make good reading too I guess.  But my point of writing about J is to not make fun of her or to show her in a bad light, but to write about a complex and a very simple individual whose lust for life makes her fight against all odds, even if some  of them  are brought upon by her own anxiety, who offers a whole lot of love and affection to people she considers her own, who can be a pillar of support and whose life's motto is  "I will do my best for people i care about till I die, and they better love me for it, or else ..."  

I have not had too many supportive women in earlier part of my life and during my married days, had very little support from my in laws in all sense.  While I could manage not receiving emotional or any other kind of support from them during my marriage, managing home and a child without any help was very difficult.  This was the time when J turned out to be my biggest support and strength.  She was always there with me especially when I was confused, afraid, distraught about being a new mother, about being a 'bad' person in my fragile relationship with my husband, about being a 'anxious employee' in my marketing job, high work pressure, late nights and frequent travel and tours.  She would stay up the night if needed and in the morning would take charge of the kitchen without murmuring a single protest.  It was as though I could always depend on her and she showered us with her love, affection, attention and her demands.  One small example of this is that J comes from a Vaishnavite faith; the family i married to were christians and naturally the food habits were very different.  J's family did not touch even onions, and at our home, beef and pork were much loved.  Since our daughter loved meat, J decided to cook whatever she wanted even it meant that she had to do penance every time she went back home.  J did not do this because she wanted to show off how great she was but because our daughter loved them, and her wishes ruled J's world.

I don't how much else can I write about J; she is nearly 70 years old and she still works.  I have offered her to sit at home and get a pension from me but she chooses to work for my ex-husband as it still offers her a place that she can call her second home.  Her life has not become better despite her hard work all these years, building a house for her grandson, getting him married off, taking care of his family and his two kids  with her hard earned money.  Her grandson has turned out to be like his father, an alcoholic and a waster.   While my heart bleeds for J, I also know how much is she responsible for not letting her grandson become a man on his own, how much she spoilt him, how much control she had of his life and when predictably he has given up,  she feels angry, helpless and sad both for herself and for him.

I keep telling her I am there for her, and she knows it too, but I can never replace what her heart's desire was; to have a home of her own, to be owned up by her own people, to be looked after  and respected by them in a peaceful and stable set up where she could call the shots but need not  be the bread earner. 

In all of these twenty six years, J has become an integral part of our lives much to the chagrin of many of my relatives who thought I was giving more important to a servant as compared to them.  But to me, J was and still is part of the family despite her over dominance and her annoying self.   She in many ways is my only relative or a family member who has taught me how to make a family, she taught me how to unabashedly own others, how to shower love and affection with all its associate irritants, and how to expect the same things in return and to not feel ashamed because you want them.  She taught me what it means to claim space, to make people belong to you even when they were not one's own, how to belong with a passion and with a commitment that only a home maker can do and how to make a brick and mortar house into a space called home.  

Mothers and Daughters

My daughter is nearly 26 years old ... though to me she still is a pre-teenager, sometimes a baby and sometimes a grown woman.  One would say, what is new, all mothers would say the same thing about their daughters?  That's true, and I would not disagree!  The point of mentioning her age here is that I gave birth to her on my 26th birthday and if I look back, I certainly did not think of myself as a young person, nor did I have anyone doting on me like I dote on her.  This however, does not deter me from trying to control her life at times, albeit unsuccessfully and is met with grave resistance from the other side!

That said, there was an interesting mix of tele-con and txt that happened between us this evening. Since she lives in Delhi pursuing her higher studies, our connecting mediums are mostly the mobile phone and occasionally the internet and often the distance created by such mediums are difficult to manage, specially in awkward moments.   

Anyway, to come back to the point of discussion - She is supposed to submit her dissertation by a certain date this month and my understanding was that only after that can she come home.  Therefore, when I called her this evening to enquire the progress obviously due to my vested interest, she responded quite gallantly that she may not even finish the paper before she came and that she has organised herself accordingly.  My response to that one was one of "what are you saying, isn't this why you postponed your trip home? And now you would not even finish that, etc, etc"  I guess my tone of voice touched a higher pitch bordering on panic and irritation which said "how can you be so irresponsible?" without actually saying it!  My daughter responded exactly as expected, with counter irritation and annoyance and advised me to not think too much about things and that she would manage what belonged to her.  "Fair enough", I thought, but some small voices were still screaming inside my head, conjuring up images of my daughter standing in a school dress being scolded by her stern teachers for not finishing her homework on time (which actually never  happened during her school days - She was a straight A student), etc, etc.  I mumbled something about her dinner and then, there was silence ...absolute silence ...  neither of us had anything to say to each other ...  After a while, I mumbled some other inanities and disconnected the phone and started wondering what just happened.

After a while, I received a txt from her apologising for "snapping" at me and how she ought to learn to control her temper, etc and how much she loved me.  I felt very good that she wrote that but also felt a little guilty about making her feel bad about herself.  This was not the first time that things like this happened between us, but every time this happens, I ask myself what could I have done differently.  I am sure, she asks herself the same question every time.

The whole relationship between mothers and daughters are so very different from the relationship between fathers and daughters.  I am of course generalising here and  looking at my life history and comparing the two.  For me it is easier to compare as I grew up only with my father around and no mother, and in my daughter's case, her bonding has been stronger with me than her father especially since she stepped into her pre-teen period.  

I guess daughters find it difficult to move away from their mothers even in their moments of deep anguish as being members of the same gendered world may make it quite difficult to not empathise with the other.   As for mothers, apart from responsibility weighing heavy on their shoulders, both affection and anxiety mixed with "I know her more than she knows herself" would make it difficult to just let the daughter go on her own adventure of life.

If I look at my daughter, I think that she looks at me both as a hero for the courage, hard work, grit and competence as well as perhaps the only person who she believes would love her unconditionally no matter what, the only person with whom she finds a sense of "home".   On the other hand, I can also see how she at the same time looks at me with slight doubt, irritation and anxiety of "she just might lose her marbles if she is not all put together the way she ought to be".  And the swing of this pendulum is what makes our relationship very interesting. 

Therefore on one hand I try hard to be put together (and not be my "mad mad" self) and make things worse as she can be friends with the "mad mad" self only and not the "sane" mother and yet when we are friends, I am continuously wondering whether there is a line that we ought to draw and go back to being parent and child and I can never really figure that one out.  

We are great friends at one level, there are very few secrets between us, except may be what we intensely dislike about each other but that too comes out quite freely on our moments of anger and outbursts (we both have mastered the arts for that one).  On the other hand, there are moments when I need to put on my Mommy face and be there for her especially when she is intensely unhappy and tensed with herself.  

Having had almost zero experience of being mothered, I sometimes desperately search for a role model to emulate and at other times accept quite sagaciously to myself that I need to make this role and if I have not yet in 26 odd years, then I may never do it and why bother, etc, etc.  My daughter on the other hand, believes in post modern thoughts and being a thinker and a feminist, her logic is "you are what you are and there is no point of comparing oneself to any parameters since all parameters would stink of one dated politics or the other".  Fair enough ... I think, suitably chastised like a good student, this is where I learn from her.  But, but, but ..... what about her expectation of being mothered?  Am I being a good mother to her at all times when she needs me to be there?  Am I?   And  when I look at the good mommies around me who are trotting around like proud mother hens, talking about or fixing  marriages, buying jewelleries  and "securing" the future of their daughters, I seem to be like a crane sitting among proverbial swans wondering "how come those are not my priorities"?  The only priority I can think of is what would make her life meaningful and what would make her content and I seem to be going by whatever choices she is making for herself as of now.  Is that necessarily good or necessarily bad, or is there something in between?  I wish there was a mommy somewhere for me to answer all these complicated questions!

I know if my daughter reads this post, she will laugh and then will tell me "again you are thinking rubbish thoughts !!!"  But I guess I would never really know.  Does any mother ever know?  

calory, camera and cholesterol

Calorie, camera and cholesterol! If somebody were to ask A about these three, he would say, now a days his life revolves around these three. He of course is aptly joined by Rusha who conjoined these three together to begin with. Between the two of them, I have become the butt of the joke at home.

It is true that i have been chasing them all over home with my new found love for my newly bought camera and poor things when photographed, look as though they have been stalked day and night. really hurried and irritated at times! ha, ha, i am having a really good time though!!

and of course, i have been counting the calories and the cholesterol, both for me and A - and boy, is he going nuts! But he is also loving it, for if i don't keep a check on his eating, etc, he would quickly ask me why was not i checking on him. so it is fun both ways for me!!

Whenever Rusha or Arjun or better still both are at home, A gets this major chance of ganging up against me and mockly complain about how much i was torturing him about his food, how little he gets to eat, etc, etc, etc. and we all have fun!! lots of laughter and fun at home.

we are also doing lots of eating out, watching theatre, shopping, veggie and fish and meat shopping, drinking chai and eating samosa at the Gupshup, planning for more eating out, planning for holidays in the coming months, watching IPL together, and just chlling at home doing absolutely nothing.

Life is blissful. Thank you God.

the "JUNO" in all of us perhaps!

I have often described insights coming to me as snowflakes falling softly on my head. I don't know why i use this analogy as i have never experienced snow in my life. it is possible that the way i receive these insights are not like 'wham', 'crash', 'zing', but more like a soft whisper in my head.

i was thinking about my mood swings and irritation and impulses and wondering whether one gets a hang of handling these things or does biological changes overtake who you are. Just at that precise moment "the whisper in my head" told me that actually i have always been like that, moody, unpredictable, impatient, with little sense of boundary management, volatile, enthusiastic, impulsive, hyper, enthusiastic, ..... sounds a bit like a teenager with raging hormones!!

Except, I am no teenager, i am nearly 50 years old and this is by and large how i have been most parts of my life.

i guess, in a way, i never really grew up.

oh, i am not crying about it, nor do i regret it but it does seem like a long time to be in this state. what accompanies this state is a continuous sense of dissatisfaction of what life offered me and mostly what it did not; every point of receiving a gift from life is laced with a doubt of whether i was worthy of receiving it!

i cant remember for how long i have been in this state. seems like forever. my mood changes more often than the clouds changing their position in the sky! and it often changes towards being grumpy or feeling heavy or being restless ....

I also see the rage that has been my constant companion over the years. in fact it has a form, looks like a figure with a orange flame like thing around and it is moving, shouting, screaming in
rage. i can't hear what it is saying but i can see the colour and i can see the movement. it is very real. when i see it as separate from me, i can see my rage and then it is easier to manage but most times, it is smart enough to disguise itself as irritation or impatience or restlessness and then i give in. 'Wham'! it comes with its full blown attack and i realise only post facto!

in fact, people feel i am quite loving but at the same time they are quite afraid of me. their fear is more about my being not predictable. the worse part is i don't realise when i am not being that.

and i can see what they were scared of post facto and i don't blame them.

most times my lovingness come to me in gushes like a flow of a stream which is sometimes dry and sometimes overflowing with passion. people at the receiving end can not handle this. they are not prepared to be smothered by it or being bludgeoned to death with my irritation or indifference!

i think being a teenager also means not having received any valid parenting at all. which is true in my case. so how does one parent oneself? i guess the fact that i am in touch with this is a step.

sometimes i look at my daughter and see how similar and how different she is vis-a-vis me. there are times when she is parenting me like a mother i never had. i guess for her, having a mother like me has been tough. but she has grown up to be quite alright.

i miss not having a mother .... very very much .... and i have always stopped myself from grieving, saying what is the use? i guess real grieving has never happened.

I think time has come for me to start 'mothering' myself and being a person and not a perennial teenager!

Even 'Juno' grew up! :-)

yippe, i have been told to "walk"

just went to the orthopedics, he welcomed me with his warm doctorly smile ... sent me for an x-ray. i kept my fingers and slightly swollen toes crossed for hopeful results. the machined creaked under its ancient weight ... whirred for a while and hopefully captured the image of my broken and may be mending bone! the technician looked happy with the result. the doctor looked even happier with it. he said, "oh, ok now you can start walking, right here, right now" as he looked at the x-ray plate as though he was savouring a moment of victory. "your leg is healing very well"

I looked on doubtfully .... healing? what healing? and if so, what do i do with this dastardly plaster cast? He looked at me with pity in his eyes : "I am afraid, that will stay for 3 more weeks" Ashok gasped, "3 more months"? "No, no, 3 weeks; 3 months will stiffen the ankle". He smiled.

i continued to look at him and at my leg suspiciously ... but, but how can i walk with this d.... p...?

the doctor again looked at me with pity: "oh, just start walking, you will get used to it. don't worry. everything will be alright".

ok, so much so. I decided to be cheerful about it albeit with grave doubt in my mind. on the way home, i told ashok we must celebrate this with 'samosas' and 'rasogollas' (salty deep fried dumplings with yum potato and peas filling and sweet cottage cheese balls). he happily agreed but alas, the treacherous K C Das did not have samosas .... i felt like crying but braved it. Ashok then suggested we try the "Randevouz" for its tasty patties but even that has closed down. sob sob ...

anyway, came home, have now started walking as in started trying to walk. and feeling really scared whether i will break the bone again by just trying to walk.

watched a intense movie in the comp ... felt very scared and terrified while watching it but the ending was rather abrupt. great acting though.

tomorrow, we have a lunch invitation to attend. i am looking forward to it. at least i can "walk" to it, he he!

hope returns just when you give up on it

here i have been feeling very low and depressed ... for no particular reason really ... just the mornings are so dreary and tiring ... and i never was like that. my mornings were almost always nice and cheerful.

then i reminded myself that every day waking up means i have to depend upon others for small movements and worse still, i can not do half the things i used to do.

asked A what makes him so happy ... he said he was the "happy sort" ... hmm .. then he thought some more and said what makes him happy is that he feels free to be able to do what he feels like, does not have any worry or load on him .....

i asked myself how come i do not feel the same way ... what makes me feel so weighed down? Have I lost the ability to feel good or hopeful about life itself?

then i remembered a conversation with K yesterday and he was talking about his childhood and his mother and how his mom wanted to give birth to him even when his father was unsure and they were not even married then! and then he talked about the place he grew up in, his home and his relatives and his growing up .... and then i thought about him now and his plans ...

what then occurred to me is that may be most of us take the present moment as the absolute certainty ... like "this is the way life is " and miss the ever changing moments of life as it is changing continuously.

But again, i can think and understand the same intellectually very well but can not feel the ever changingness of life ... i look at it post fact after it has happened and staring me in the eye

right now as i am sitting in front of my desk top and writing this, all the windows in the room are open and sunlight is streaming in albeit with lots of noise and pollution ... but also with some nice breeze and feeling of hope ...

it is not a hope about me or anything, just that life is alive and it is continuous and is ever changing ... and i hope someday i will be able to just wake up and feel good about being born as a human being and being alive!

the new year

i am writing this blog after a long time .... as i was going through what i had written earlier, it also put me in touch with the fact that how easily i give up most things that i start.

but i am feeling good that i have started again. the day is so sunny outside ... nice january afternoon sunshine, the leaves of the trees outside my windows are nodding in unision .. am listening to R D Burman on the web .. life is good at this moment.

Tatas have launched their Rs. 1 lac or under $ 2500 car today in India; it is historical .. feeling proud that it is the Tatas and it is happening in India. the car does look smart and has a nice name .. Tata Nano.

Reading discussions with Dalai Lama .... to be able to watch my own feelings, especially the destructive ones are sometimes so amazing.

my broken leg is not complaining much .. i am sending down some good feelings towards it but most times i am afraid of it, lest it becomes worse. may be it needs more love