may 3 2008. 9.56 pm

watching the self is a fascinating pastime or an occupation - whichever way one looks at it! i have been wondering at this idea, well not wondering, but been observing actually.

it seems to me that people in general have two kinds of predispositions. one who have a predisposition of well being, irrespective of their back ground, their personal history, their current context and future. they most times seem to have an ability to be cheerful, to look at the world with wonderment, have a sense of calm and be happy with themselves. so when they meet others, they are usually welcoming, attentive, relaxed and people like to be with them.

and then, there are these other sets of people whose predispositions are to have a sense of non-well being with themselves. no matter where they are, no matter who they are with or what has been the context, these people will have a sense of gloom, a feel of something being incomplete, something missing, a tense body, preoccupations with past and anxieties about the future and most of all, they are not relaxed. and predictably, when they are with people, they are highly vigilant, defensive, preoccupied and other people are often left with doubts both about themselves and these people.

of course, life or people are not as black and white as i have outlined above. there are all kinds of shades in between and people come in all shapes and sizes. but if i were to look a broad pattern of having a sense of well being and having a sense of non well being most of the time, then i would categorise people in this two category.

i fall in the second category. my sense of non well being has always been my companion for as long as i remember. i never questioned it in the past, in fact, i had accepted that as the only way to be.

today i question it, i ask myself, what is it that generates this sense of non well being?

i have some answers but all such answers are cliched. i am not interested in looking at the answers as well. But I believe, that for most people, who share this sense of non well being with me would agree that it is a debilitating feeling most of the time, to be in this state. And only sometimes, once in a while, when we are in a state of well being, we are actually breathing more, smiling more, accepting life without being vigilant, able to look at the future without being worried about it and actually being able to enjoy the "moment" - every moment of the present, which is passing away and will never come back to us again.

and on those rare of the rare moments, there is a tremendous feeling of being connected and being one with the earth, with life ---

being one with the insects, the birds, the leaves, the honking cars, the passers by, the passing clouds, the Internet, the TV, the nameless faces, the madness, the ugly, the depression, the manic high, the undesirable and the most beautiful.

only, those very rare moments that i often feel that i am fully alive and i feel grateful.

amitabh bachchan and blogging

mr amitabh bachchan has been writing his blogs lately and they are generating a huge response. today's blog was a one liner, written on his way home to mumbai from london, and it generated a whooping 251 responses, at the time i write this blog.

i was reading through some responses and it is amazing and fascinating to see the kind of emotions he generates in people. there are people from all ages, communities and countries who write to him, some talking about how they grew up watching his film, some talked about how he is an inspiration to their lives, some talked about their lives, some with questions and some with accusations and some with advice and suggestions. but it is totally amazing to see people's response to him.

i have visited amir khan's blog as well. even he does not generate this kind of response.

his writing is articulate, well versed and intelligent.

but the most interesting thing is his anger that comes through. it seems to me that the poised, measured, balanced amitabh is bursting through the seems in the blog, as an angry, anguished and don't really care person who is frank, up close and personal.

i wonder what does he do with this anger and anguish in his day to day life? it is not just a tirade against the media, it is almost the amitabh who does not find an outlet anywhere else, comes out here in the open, with his wit, humour, rawness, pain, perspectives, views and pain. is it his shadow side? i wonder what mr jung would have said?

i have not left any comment on his blog and will not. i feel tired just looking at the number of responses the poor guy has to read, even if he is assisted by a team.

Kalu the cat

exactly 15 days ago, my maid from kolkata called me at 4 p.m to announce that Kalu had passed away, or rather that she was found dead on the roof top in the afternoon. Kalu, my sweet little innocent, wiered Kalu, the cat with a mole on the upper lip and with a hesitant bid for friendship.

She came into our household after being left to die in torrential rain for two days. Rusha rescued her and begged us to keep her with us. She rescued Lalu the smart and pretty cat a day before. Both were of the same age, about two or three days old, wet to the bone, shivering and crying feebly. But they both were to live - with us, to make us happy, teach us many a splendid things with their royal, majestic cat philosophy.

Kalu had black, fawn and white colour on her body, she was always a little plump as she loved her food, her share of fish and rice, which she would relish. long after the cunning Lalu has finished her share, Kalu would sit and finish every little morsel of rice and fish and all the little pieces of catchow lying around.

Kalu had green eyes, they always had suspicion in them but also had curiosity and shyness. If i were sitting in the bedroom, she would come in and would take one halting step towards my lap. then she would perch herself on my lap and then very softly, croak :"meaow" which i guess, meant, "hello there" in her language. which also was a signal for me to pat her on her head, scratch her chin, rub her back, etc. if i forgot to continue, she would nibble at my fingers, first softly and then, if her demands were not heeded to, a little more forcefully. If i yelped, she would look up to my face with an immense expression of hurt, as though saying "what is the fuss all about? it was not that bad, was it?"

what i loved most about Kalu was her capacity to entertain herself. we just had to throw anything at her and she would start playing with it and have fun. it could be a piece of paper, a little red ball, peel of any vegetable, even a green chili would do.

Now that she is gone, it is very difficult to imagine that i will never see those green eyes again, nor that funny wierd face of hers with a mole on her lip, and she would never ever tiptoe inot any of my rooms again.

I guess her time in this world, with us was over. I only hope that she left this world in peace. she was not sick or at least no one knew anything about it. my maid suggested that someone from that house poisoned her. my stomach churned at the thought ..... i fervently hoped she was not.

i am agonised, grieved, sad, angry, depressed - but I hang onto the memory of Kalu and the time she decided to spend with us - her lovely spirit, her loving affectionate nibbling, her curiosity, her desperation and anxiety when both rusha and i left kolkata, her beautiful plump appearance, her love for food, her propensity to get into trouble and utter inability to get out of it .... all of these.

i also feel immensely guilty that i have moved to bangalore five years ago without the pets (two of them have passed away since - only one is left) and i have not been able to do anything. i have blamed lack of infrastructure here and all other kinds of things and i wonder whether there was anything that i could have done.

i remain thus, answerable to you Kalu, to you Pudding and to you Lalu.

and I shall not seek forgiveness.

I went through what i had written earlier and then some pieces of a jigsaw puzzle fell into place. had a chat with A in the morning and some more pieces fell into place. rather than talking about me, let me write about the phenomena that i saw as a process.

just like the picture, compassion is possibly held in most of our mind as something that always flows downwards. for example, i never really felt compassionate towards my father or any adults for that matter in my young days as i believed (and realised that i still do), that as an adult, you must always be responsible for your acts of omission and commission and therefore if you make a mistake or be "weak", you must pay a price for it. however, when it comes to compassion flowing downwards, it is often showered on younger people, juniors in status, people in lower social strata compared to us, to the "under dog" and of course to our children.

in fact, i have written exactly that in last blog. i have very "righteously" how we as parents (and of course as adults) must be resposible for our acts of omission and commissions, etc, etc.

it is perhaps a phenomena for a lot of people out there, for who, compassion flowing upwards would be experinced as "sucking upto the powers that be" or at best, it would be sympathy tinged with hidden contempt or criticism. whereas for the "under dogs" (and children are often so to us), compassion is quite free flowing and is experienced as a virtue.

this brings me to the "critical self" that is continuously demanding more from us and practically offering nothing. And when we are the grips of the "critical self" we offer our children the same that we offer ourselves, i.e. criticality (which inevitably turns into lack of faith in them) or we offer solutions. Perhaps, in the relationship between parents and children, what is most important is compassion, from them to us and from us to them without any strings attached.

Yet it is such a difficult task to be compassionate without being helpful or advisory or patronising towards them. Similarly it is so difficult to accept our follies and our slip ups as parents as though we are God!

conversations

have you ever noticed that when conversations become staccato or has an underlying sharp edge to it, it may have some unspoken criticisms or disappointments or anxieties holding fort in the back ground for the conversationalists.

it often happens between me and my daughter ... many times memories of my conversations with my father gets brought back when i converse with her. i have not yet figured out what the edgy ness on my part is all about. i only remember i held my father in deep criticism most of the time and took it for granted that he never really understood me. and do i dare to think the same about me and my daughter? i am not sure!

perhaps it is the burden of being a parent - and perhaps with children we find it difficult to be "me" or to be an individual on our own right and often get reduced to being a "parent" and a "parent" alone.

and when you are only a "parent" , who are talking to? your "child" and that is when, my friend, you are doomed for ever.

that day i was talking to a feminist and she was quoting another, and the quote was :"once you become pregnant, you remain pregnant for ever". i.e. you never really feel free to be yourself in your role as a parent.

the ones who dare to be, are usually condemned. i am not sure i am ready to be condemned. in any case there are enough condemnations of varying degrees doing their rounds for me and for every other parents all over the place.

well, i sound crabby and whinny. i am not feeling like that. I am simply facing up to reality and accepting it as it comes.

If we wish to be ourselves, we will have to hold us accountable for our actions, acts of omission and commissions and we have to accept our off springs as individuals who just happened to have come to this world through us. we have to accept that they may not like us, may not want to be with us, that their sense of 'home' may not lie with us any more, and, they may love or like other people more than "us".

and the toughest thing to do, is to accept that in order to be ourselves, we can not longer hide behind "all my actions are in their best interests" as this creates bitterness and criticisms towards our off springs which we find (I certainly do) difficult to express.

therefore, what do we do when parenting seems to be a lifelong tag being permanently attached? well, i guess, to just grow up (or grow old!) and accept that every individual has to find an agent in order to descend to this world just as we did through our parents.

And, live our own lives.

and that is one of the problems of being a "Parent". you take it for granted that you are not supposed to have a separate life apart from your offspring. At best, your life should weave around them, be accommodating, infrastructural, accepting and space providing, but never, never, without them.

how do you live YOUR life without having to choose being a parent or not being one?