Recently I got to know that Monk's forefather...Bagh Hazarika...fought the Mughals in the battle of Saraighat for the Ahom king. Bless the soul who actually did all the research. He is related to Monk's Aunt through marriage.
My forefather from my paternal side, Azan Pir Sahab, who hailed from Baghdad, and who I rather romantically hope, had a connection with Bagh Hazarika in the larger canvas of societal intercourse alas only came to Assam in the 17th century.
An interesting thing to note is that the Ahoms came to Assam from Yunan province of China via the Patkai Ranges and first settled in Burma. Then an exodus to Assam's Brahmaputra Valley established their kingdom under King Sukaapha in the 12th Century. The Ahom dynasty established one of the most exemplary administrative services in addition to carrying out an envious task of merging cultures of the settlers and the indigenous people. People were given official titles based on their occupation/designation hence Hazarika or “Commander of 1000 foot soldiers" was once such title (generally hilarity ensues in our circle of friends when my husband defends his station with this quip and frankly speaking I am the most painful bully he has to reckon with). Similarly Saika, Chaliha, Borua, Bez-barua, and others were few other titles conferred to men holding administrative positions under the Ahom kingdom.
A few centuries later the 5 Pirs (one of them Azan Pir Sahab) from Baghdad who settled in Dibrugarh and other upper valley reaches of Assam, now called Upper Assam, married into the Ahom families. Incidentally Azan Pir Sahab was a Sufi Syed. That can perhaps explain why the current day Syed Diaspora is not exactly a hijab wearing, prayer beads flaunting fanatical lots. Literary and cultural discourse and dabble have long been the tradition of the Syed Community. And yes music somehow is embedded in the DNA of the entire community. Almost everyone sings like a canary, literally and figuratively.
Today Assam witnesses a harmonious co-existence of people of various ethnicities and religious beliefs. The beauty lies in the culture of Assam like the women wearing Mekhlas(Assam’s traditional drape and highly coveted at that) for a wedding as a guest or even as a bride and enjoying the distinct taste of Pithas (pan cakes and savouries) and Bora Bhaat (sticky rice).
And when one may ask what’s in a name after all (I being a “Syed” and Monk being a “Hazarika”), I could say well loads of history in our case where some 10-12 generations down monk and I happen to get married. I guess more research is necessary and I so hope I can get down to it.
Adding a little sattire...will I preen around like some displaced half breed princess?...darling I did that anyways with or without history!!! :D
Sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ajan_Fakir
http://www.motijan-hazarika-rahman.com/Lineage-of-Bagh-Hazarika.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahom_Dynasty
Friday, August 19, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
The grief that feels eternal....
The grief of losing a baby is crushing, breath stopping and confusing. I am also convinced that grief becomes more intense as the attachment grows. Sapling versus tree analogy. On days when I least expect sorrow slams down ruthlessly. So does guilt as to how can I even think of moving on.. smiling, even laughing, eating, cooking? I also now know extreme grief can manifest as physical symptoms, something so far I have never experienced. The chest closes up on you, at times it even pains and breathing gets shallow and till I don’t cry it out it feels like a hard piece of apple is stuck at my throat.
However, grief puts in perspective the importance of life. The pettiness of want. The superfluousness of declarations of love. The stupidity of feeling versus thinking. In coping with grief, talking it out is helping. I can’t kick away my loss as if it were an untouchable garbage can. I really can’t pretend it dint happen. Or that it was routine. I do not want to philosophise it or rationalise it. All I want is for it to be real. My loss and my coming to terms with it. Not doing so will be really trivialising the whole event of loss. What I lost is not a diamond brooch or a fast car. It was a life of a being much wanted and very loved. That was my son. Even if people around me tell me "there will be more" ..."you are so young", and I do know they tell me all this because they care, they do love me, but for me it is a loss with which I grapple with every day. Sorrow creeps up on me when I least expect. In solitude and in room full of people.
But life must go on. I have a spouse. Parents. Inlaws. Friends. Colleagues. Eternal mourning is unviable and impossible because we human beings have a rare gift. We forget. Slowly but steadily. It is the norm of nature. Weeds and grass grow over graves. Civilizations grow over civilizations. And so the cycle of life continues.
Never before have I been so acutely aware of life and its tribunals and triumphs. Do I still take it for granted? No. Am I too old? No. Is there a limit to what I can achieve, which so far I just thought of some kind of pipe dream? Yes there are always limits but then that is why I will try. I am not suddenly invincible, not miraculously infallible but I am definitely more trusting in my abilities, more in sync with my inner voice. I am still chicken shit of risks and the unknown but I do have a definitive comeback, something to the tune of "So what? What more or worse? ".
However, grief puts in perspective the importance of life. The pettiness of want. The superfluousness of declarations of love. The stupidity of feeling versus thinking. In coping with grief, talking it out is helping. I can’t kick away my loss as if it were an untouchable garbage can. I really can’t pretend it dint happen. Or that it was routine. I do not want to philosophise it or rationalise it. All I want is for it to be real. My loss and my coming to terms with it. Not doing so will be really trivialising the whole event of loss. What I lost is not a diamond brooch or a fast car. It was a life of a being much wanted and very loved. That was my son. Even if people around me tell me "there will be more" ..."you are so young", and I do know they tell me all this because they care, they do love me, but for me it is a loss with which I grapple with every day. Sorrow creeps up on me when I least expect. In solitude and in room full of people.
But life must go on. I have a spouse. Parents. Inlaws. Friends. Colleagues. Eternal mourning is unviable and impossible because we human beings have a rare gift. We forget. Slowly but steadily. It is the norm of nature. Weeds and grass grow over graves. Civilizations grow over civilizations. And so the cycle of life continues.
Never before have I been so acutely aware of life and its tribunals and triumphs. Do I still take it for granted? No. Am I too old? No. Is there a limit to what I can achieve, which so far I just thought of some kind of pipe dream? Yes there are always limits but then that is why I will try. I am not suddenly invincible, not miraculously infallible but I am definitely more trusting in my abilities, more in sync with my inner voice. I am still chicken shit of risks and the unknown but I do have a definitive comeback, something to the tune of "So what? What more or worse? ".
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
My little winged magical being
You who grew wings just a little too soon...you who came and gave me hope and joy and so what if for very brief....you who touched me deep where no one else has ever....you who were to be my friend... you who I longed to cherish but for who providence had some other plans...you for who i grieve yet exult...you who cant be replaced but always remembered... you with no name yet my little universe of a few days..... you spanning a spectrum as wide as logic, reasoning and emotions....you who made me discover your father all over again...you who brought my friends to me.... you who made me realise that i can be brave yet i can hurt raw....you who has made me fearless...you my forever talisman...my angel ...my pixie....my son... I love you so
Friday, February 25, 2011
Goodbye is just another word
With the recent demise of my widowed Aunt, a septuagenarian, who never had children, a large wave of guilt and grief has been running through the family. What if siblings and nieces and nephews had asked her to move in with them, what if they were more patient with her idiosyncrasies, what if they contributed more to her rapidly depleting resources, what if they sponsored air tickets for trips here and there and so on and so forth. To this one forth-coming sibling quipped that we don’t live our daily lives and interact with people with the mind-frame that they will die in the future and it will be shameful to face the fact we were less kind, less accommodating and less understanding. When we go about the business of everyday living we do what our intellect and heart tells us to do. Our upbringing and sense of moral well-being has a bearing on our thoughts and posterity alone provides the comfort of judgement.
For the record, everyone in the family was helpful as they deemed “helpful” right. Some in the family kept her with them whenever she visited for medical check-ups, some helped her monetarily, some would call her regularly to keep in touch, some kept vigil in the hospital whenever she took ill and was admitted while some provided her, the vigilante and her litany of well meaning servants with food. But was it possible for anyone to stake claim and offer help like an off-spring? Was it possible for any sibling to show the exact affection to her as they show to their own children and for nieces and nephews to treat her at par with their own parents? Reality check is necessary for everyone, young and old, in order to lead a whole-some life.
What became the end of her, my Aunt, is not the loss of her husband or absence of children. It was the will to live. The will and need to fill her life with activities, hobbies and people that would circumvent the vacuum of having a full-fledged family in her sunset years. I agree that one's own children offers one with a deep sense of security and become a source of support in the face of crisis if not throughout one's old life. The lack of purpose and dependence on others to fill her life led her to become a recluse, and eventually led her to neglect her own health. Mental and physical inactivity led her to waste away. My own Granddad who lived till he was ninety one and my other Aunt, a few years older than the one who just expired, are a great example of people who lived their lives with a purpose. Authors like Dorris Lessing, Kushwant Singh, etc. are wonderful examples again of people with purpose in their lives. Providence has decided how long we shall live. But to fill that life with purpose and zest is our responsibility. Not only was her mind and time not occupied with social activities or hobbies but also any form of physical activity was grossly absent. To add to this woe was a gross negligence of property matters and retirement plans. She is perhaps as much to blame as her late husband. Having had no children, I wish both were a tad prudent to take care of these two very essential aspects while health and resources were in abundance, which in their case were. After all irrespective of having children or not, no one in the family can be expected to play the role of an old age ATM machine, practically and realistically speaking. One spouse is bound to outlive the other.
In the small town of Dhubri in Assam, my Uncle was a well respected attorney who ran a good practice and my Aunt always taught in a school till she retired 3 years ago. They made themselves a huge three level house and also had tenants thrown in. So money was never an issue. Far-sightedness was. A life spent with utter disregard of tomorrow is as dangerous as being neurotically cautious. As every wise man and every religion says “the balance” is necessary. When the going was good, a decadent lifestyle could have been moderated and a neat little sum could have been kept for the future. Well meaning advises from friends and family sometimes may turn out to be very beneficial if heeded to. Alas, no such advises of smart investments were heeded nor was the constant encouragement to stop wallowing in self pity was taken seriously by my Aunt.
Those of us grieving can but use all these rationales to feel less guilty, because almost everyone has the ability to make even a little difference. Perhaps we could have done more to make her feel less lonely. But the biggest difference we make in our lives are we ourselves. To me the biggest lesson her life taught is to be a little more rational, a little more cautious, to be independent, to be a support than to seek support and to profligate less.
That said my Aunt had some great traits. She was very warm, very affectionate, very stylish, very hospitable and very kind. All these traits did stand her in a good stead. She lived life king size till she lived. Her two trusted helps stayed with her till the end thus proving her kind and sweet ways. Her students, who left school eons ago still have great things to tell about her.
As they say none of us are perfect. Sadly her imperfections became a great source of insecurity for her. All I can say is that may she find peace and quiet in the new world that she has moved on to. I will miss her.
For the record, everyone in the family was helpful as they deemed “helpful” right. Some in the family kept her with them whenever she visited for medical check-ups, some helped her monetarily, some would call her regularly to keep in touch, some kept vigil in the hospital whenever she took ill and was admitted while some provided her, the vigilante and her litany of well meaning servants with food. But was it possible for anyone to stake claim and offer help like an off-spring? Was it possible for any sibling to show the exact affection to her as they show to their own children and for nieces and nephews to treat her at par with their own parents? Reality check is necessary for everyone, young and old, in order to lead a whole-some life.
What became the end of her, my Aunt, is not the loss of her husband or absence of children. It was the will to live. The will and need to fill her life with activities, hobbies and people that would circumvent the vacuum of having a full-fledged family in her sunset years. I agree that one's own children offers one with a deep sense of security and become a source of support in the face of crisis if not throughout one's old life. The lack of purpose and dependence on others to fill her life led her to become a recluse, and eventually led her to neglect her own health. Mental and physical inactivity led her to waste away. My own Granddad who lived till he was ninety one and my other Aunt, a few years older than the one who just expired, are a great example of people who lived their lives with a purpose. Authors like Dorris Lessing, Kushwant Singh, etc. are wonderful examples again of people with purpose in their lives. Providence has decided how long we shall live. But to fill that life with purpose and zest is our responsibility. Not only was her mind and time not occupied with social activities or hobbies but also any form of physical activity was grossly absent. To add to this woe was a gross negligence of property matters and retirement plans. She is perhaps as much to blame as her late husband. Having had no children, I wish both were a tad prudent to take care of these two very essential aspects while health and resources were in abundance, which in their case were. After all irrespective of having children or not, no one in the family can be expected to play the role of an old age ATM machine, practically and realistically speaking. One spouse is bound to outlive the other.
In the small town of Dhubri in Assam, my Uncle was a well respected attorney who ran a good practice and my Aunt always taught in a school till she retired 3 years ago. They made themselves a huge three level house and also had tenants thrown in. So money was never an issue. Far-sightedness was. A life spent with utter disregard of tomorrow is as dangerous as being neurotically cautious. As every wise man and every religion says “the balance” is necessary. When the going was good, a decadent lifestyle could have been moderated and a neat little sum could have been kept for the future. Well meaning advises from friends and family sometimes may turn out to be very beneficial if heeded to. Alas, no such advises of smart investments were heeded nor was the constant encouragement to stop wallowing in self pity was taken seriously by my Aunt.
Those of us grieving can but use all these rationales to feel less guilty, because almost everyone has the ability to make even a little difference. Perhaps we could have done more to make her feel less lonely. But the biggest difference we make in our lives are we ourselves. To me the biggest lesson her life taught is to be a little more rational, a little more cautious, to be independent, to be a support than to seek support and to profligate less.
That said my Aunt had some great traits. She was very warm, very affectionate, very stylish, very hospitable and very kind. All these traits did stand her in a good stead. She lived life king size till she lived. Her two trusted helps stayed with her till the end thus proving her kind and sweet ways. Her students, who left school eons ago still have great things to tell about her.
As they say none of us are perfect. Sadly her imperfections became a great source of insecurity for her. All I can say is that may she find peace and quiet in the new world that she has moved on to. I will miss her.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
and aint no use sit and wonder why babe, it would never do somehow....Bob Dylan
A friend sent me a link which is apparently causing quite an uproar in the blogging world.
Here is it:
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111504576059713528698754.html
I dont know why should this cause any uproar except in the minds of the bigoted and the rigid...every society has its fabric. The denizens of a society know what they want... If America is about freedom...free from stress, free economy, free from familial baggages and free of hassles.... India like China is about family, about struggling for fewer resources, about wanting the best, about battling subjugation to deficiencies and about trying hard to follow age old "traditions" even if they stand slightly half baked and bastardised. What is perhaps cruel for Americans is "normal" for Indians and Chinese.
Like everything else there are pros and cons of familial choices as well.
I think families make choices of parenting through their own experiences than through borrowed ones. Very driven families, where the Dads and Mums are achievers socially or financially or intellectually, will herd their kids towards achievement oriented life choices. Conversely, for parents with very little/no exposure to certain aspects like career choices or education or excellence due to ignorance or financial wherewithal , their way of bringing up children would be different.
One must know that no society is completely bereft of negatives. Let us face it, unlike the US, India does not entertain dignity of labour. Neither I nor any of my friends associate socially with a janitor or a security guard of an apartment complex just because we share a common interest in maths or aviation or painting. Such is our way of life that only the smart, only the well spoken and only the “actualised” will be in our circle of friends as per our personal benchmark of good and better.
We are of a society which generally looks up to their elders for advice or wants them to concur decisions. We are of a society which is risk averse and non-believers of fatalism and thank god for that. Look what kick-ass-Ivy league educated- air brushed-risk-takers like Lehman Brothers did. We are of a society where we want our elders to come around through gentle perseverance about our ways and decisions and not break ice 20 years later on an Oprah show. A society that pushes its kids to ace exams like in India, the IT bonanza ofcourse or sports like in modern day China, the Olympics effect ofcourse, at any cost and firmly believes in spoon feeding and no question asked philosphy can be called cruel. The pros are that this same facet, if modified constructively, serves us well in terms of having a social support: parents, siblings and even friends, something which is difficult to come by in the West, who have created a successful system wherein fatalism and even debt does not starve its citizens. If one reads about Andre Agassi, a phenomenal player who needs no introduction, one may realize that parental pressure is a singular force if channelized properly will take you to great heights. Because underlining all the pressure is love.
Unfortunately India or China is not yet there in terms of government sponsored social safety nets. If we don’t work hard, if we don’t ace exams, if we don’t clear interviews and if we don’t keep our jobs, matter of time we slip down Maslow’s pyramid of needs. What choices do such parents have in this part of the globe? Can we afford in India not being overtly competitive be it academics, music or cricket? Can we as a race survive not having a "good" education which is slightly better than literacy, a kind of education which is not a wholesome meal but a piss-poor capsule of necessary vitamins but which gets us jobs and helps paying the bills without any social safety net?
My very limited travel to China made me realise one thing. The Chinese may come across as robotic and un-smiling to general population but they battle a very difficult government and the choices made by their leaders since Mao Zedong’s time render them open to ridicule and ethnic side-lining. Succeeding remains the only mantra to survive whether in sports or education or medicine or music and hard work and discipline remains the only way forward. There is not much latitude for slacking. After all no one remembers Nobel nominees, we just remember the Nobel laureates. Look at the animal kingdom. A tigress relentlessly teaches her cubs to hunt and those lessons are repetitive, banal and at times harsh. Wonder what would happen if a tigress suddenly tells a small cub to 'follow his heart" and do its own bidding !!
But the one thing that I would say with a definite stance is that it is easier to let go... it is easier to shoo away difficult children and turn them out of the house at 16 to earn their own money, shut your eyes to teenage tantrums and let them be junkies and juvenile delinquents. It is more difficult to keep haranguing your precocious kids from making idiotic mistakes that may cost him or her/his life than to allow them “freedom” to do what they please so the parents can sleep more peacefully or continue their social butterflying. So just for the difficult 20 years or so that most Indian and Chinese parents spend putting their own life at hold to allow their kids “excel and do well” through means not appreciated but that yield result, my heart goes out to them. As Gandhi said "must we perpetrate all sins to realise the horror of it?".
Unfortunately just like our skin colour and genetic make-up we can’t choose our parents .... and ironically what you get is what you give...so for those of us who come from secure and well meaning families, we could pass those values on and we could “customise” the home rules to accommodate the new generation a bit, just as each generation before us did for the next, to be fair!! And well I cant recall having friends shooting kids up in my school because their Mommy made them do more Mathematics!!!
Gotta go. Have guests over for dinner. BTW all the cooking that I have learnt and all that food that people smack up was taught by my mother since I was nine :D and I dint need no shrink just because Mum made sure that the chicken bloody well come out tasty. We Indians dont throw or waste food. Too much poverty around you see!!!! GROWL
Here is it:
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111504576059713528698754.html
I dont know why should this cause any uproar except in the minds of the bigoted and the rigid...every society has its fabric. The denizens of a society know what they want... If America is about freedom...free from stress, free economy, free from familial baggages and free of hassles.... India like China is about family, about struggling for fewer resources, about wanting the best, about battling subjugation to deficiencies and about trying hard to follow age old "traditions" even if they stand slightly half baked and bastardised. What is perhaps cruel for Americans is "normal" for Indians and Chinese.
Like everything else there are pros and cons of familial choices as well.
I think families make choices of parenting through their own experiences than through borrowed ones. Very driven families, where the Dads and Mums are achievers socially or financially or intellectually, will herd their kids towards achievement oriented life choices. Conversely, for parents with very little/no exposure to certain aspects like career choices or education or excellence due to ignorance or financial wherewithal , their way of bringing up children would be different.
One must know that no society is completely bereft of negatives. Let us face it, unlike the US, India does not entertain dignity of labour. Neither I nor any of my friends associate socially with a janitor or a security guard of an apartment complex just because we share a common interest in maths or aviation or painting. Such is our way of life that only the smart, only the well spoken and only the “actualised” will be in our circle of friends as per our personal benchmark of good and better.
We are of a society which generally looks up to their elders for advice or wants them to concur decisions. We are of a society which is risk averse and non-believers of fatalism and thank god for that. Look what kick-ass-Ivy league educated- air brushed-risk-takers like Lehman Brothers did. We are of a society where we want our elders to come around through gentle perseverance about our ways and decisions and not break ice 20 years later on an Oprah show. A society that pushes its kids to ace exams like in India, the IT bonanza ofcourse or sports like in modern day China, the Olympics effect ofcourse, at any cost and firmly believes in spoon feeding and no question asked philosphy can be called cruel. The pros are that this same facet, if modified constructively, serves us well in terms of having a social support: parents, siblings and even friends, something which is difficult to come by in the West, who have created a successful system wherein fatalism and even debt does not starve its citizens. If one reads about Andre Agassi, a phenomenal player who needs no introduction, one may realize that parental pressure is a singular force if channelized properly will take you to great heights. Because underlining all the pressure is love.
Unfortunately India or China is not yet there in terms of government sponsored social safety nets. If we don’t work hard, if we don’t ace exams, if we don’t clear interviews and if we don’t keep our jobs, matter of time we slip down Maslow’s pyramid of needs. What choices do such parents have in this part of the globe? Can we afford in India not being overtly competitive be it academics, music or cricket? Can we as a race survive not having a "good" education which is slightly better than literacy, a kind of education which is not a wholesome meal but a piss-poor capsule of necessary vitamins but which gets us jobs and helps paying the bills without any social safety net?
My very limited travel to China made me realise one thing. The Chinese may come across as robotic and un-smiling to general population but they battle a very difficult government and the choices made by their leaders since Mao Zedong’s time render them open to ridicule and ethnic side-lining. Succeeding remains the only mantra to survive whether in sports or education or medicine or music and hard work and discipline remains the only way forward. There is not much latitude for slacking. After all no one remembers Nobel nominees, we just remember the Nobel laureates. Look at the animal kingdom. A tigress relentlessly teaches her cubs to hunt and those lessons are repetitive, banal and at times harsh. Wonder what would happen if a tigress suddenly tells a small cub to 'follow his heart" and do its own bidding !!
But the one thing that I would say with a definite stance is that it is easier to let go... it is easier to shoo away difficult children and turn them out of the house at 16 to earn their own money, shut your eyes to teenage tantrums and let them be junkies and juvenile delinquents. It is more difficult to keep haranguing your precocious kids from making idiotic mistakes that may cost him or her/his life than to allow them “freedom” to do what they please so the parents can sleep more peacefully or continue their social butterflying. So just for the difficult 20 years or so that most Indian and Chinese parents spend putting their own life at hold to allow their kids “excel and do well” through means not appreciated but that yield result, my heart goes out to them. As Gandhi said "must we perpetrate all sins to realise the horror of it?".
Unfortunately just like our skin colour and genetic make-up we can’t choose our parents .... and ironically what you get is what you give...so for those of us who come from secure and well meaning families, we could pass those values on and we could “customise” the home rules to accommodate the new generation a bit, just as each generation before us did for the next, to be fair!! And well I cant recall having friends shooting kids up in my school because their Mommy made them do more Mathematics!!!
Gotta go. Have guests over for dinner. BTW all the cooking that I have learnt and all that food that people smack up was taught by my mother since I was nine :D and I dint need no shrink just because Mum made sure that the chicken bloody well come out tasty. We Indians dont throw or waste food. Too much poverty around you see!!!! GROWL
Friday, November 26, 2010
The small stream of sunlight
Like every morning, this morning too Mom and I carried on with our early morning prattle. I call her for an hour most days, which could become two some days. Generally we talk of the maladies that life poses like how our very kind husbands are taken for a ride by this utterly base world because both my Dad and my husband happen to be such simple hearted folks and how we (my Mom and I) have to valiantly defend these hapless men from the cruel and mean world. Amidst all the talks of us poor Vikings having to save our men, she mentioned that her everyday house help Jahaanara did not come to work. Jahaanara is a very diligent and loyal lady; one of those rare house help who don’t think that help rendered by their employers is the employee's entitlement. She is honest and cheerful. She is also very poor. She quite reminds me of Friday in Robinson Crusoe.
Jahaanara , a mother of two, is in her early forties. I hate to call her a maid because as I said before she is a very ethical human being, very clean and she is unthinkably fit thanks to the everyday hill climbing to get to work from home; her waist line and abs can put true blue health freaks and celebrities to shame. She also proves very eloquently the point that most of eat us 100% more than what we need for sustenance. Jahaanara survives on two plates of rice with occasional meat and lentil, lots of tea and few slices of breads. I don’t endorse this less than 1000 calories diet. She has no other way because she is poor. But if you are reading this maybe cutting 400 or 500 calories from your diet will not be impossible. (By the way, you can easily cut 500 calories from your daily intake by drinking 10 cups of black tea with no sugar and not drinking any other beverage other than black or green tea, eating no sweets and dumping colas, eating three chapattis less or two helpings of rice less, avoiding fried stuff and walking for 40 minutes briskly. Clichéd but tried and tested by yours truly). Jahaanara works at two houses. At my Mom’s she gets her mid day vegetables, carb and taffeine fix. She has a late breakfast sitting next to Mom as Mom indulges in her elevenses. Her husband a daily wager these days is of no help to the family. Some heavy work has hurt his elbow and has rendered him temporarily incapacitated. So bearing the expenses of the house is now Jahaanara’s sole responsibility. She has so far managed to educate her son as an electrician. Her daughter unfortunately this year had to repeat her metric exams.
This year due to incessant rains in Guwahati one beetle nut tree near Jahaanara’s house lost soil due to erosion and in matter of time collapsed, caving in one of the walls in her house. Given that her house is a typical rural thatched and mud house, one of those many houses that dot Assam’s hill tops and valleys, it was not a very conducive living condition for her and her family. With incomes low and only her salary of less than 3000 Indian Rupees to bank on, getting an advance of ten thousand from a bank is an impossible feat. But don’t they say for every one door shut some windows just yank open. Jahaanara and her neighbours, one of the poorest of Assamese denizens are nonetheless a cohesive and a surprisingly smart lot. For years now her neighbourhood has a community micro-finance facility where everyone deposits some money and depending on someone’s pressing needs a micro loan of about 5000 to 10000 thousand rupee is doled out. The interest is very minimal of just 1 rupee a month. Jahaanara with this scheme could borrow a sum of 7000 rupees to rebuild her house. She would be repaying her loan at the rate of rupees 601 per month. Every few months a few non-profit NGOs supply her and her neighbours with spools of white and red threads for free which they spin into fabrics called “gamoosa”, an Assamese cotton towel, best suited for a very rain prone region like Assam where terry towels take ages to dry. Jahaanara earns some money through this. She also makes brooms which my Mom and likewise buy from her. Very recently she has started growing papayas in her back yard, which are organically grown and ripened. She supplies them too. So Jahaanara a very poor but ethical lady is doing every bit that she can to keep her family eating and living decently. It would have been easy for her to join a factional terrorist group and gun down people and extort money. But better sense prevails and she is leading life with courage and dignity. There are occasional gifts during festivals and my Dad generally gives her "pocket" money more than once a week which he misses giving me and my brother now that we are all grown and away. She appreciates the help my Mom and her other employers give her but like any self respecting human being she does not consider these help as her right and always over delivers through her very good house work. She also, despite being illiterate, unlike lots of urban house helps I have experienced and am currently employing, is cognizant of the fact that charity can only assist till a point. From that point on your own hard work, ethics and a pleasant disposition can get things rolling.
You rock Jahaanara. I just love your ways. You reiterate oft searched but seldom found perspective of humility, a sense of humour and hugely help to endorse that hope is a very strong prop. I am glad I got to know you and I am sure brave that you are, life will see you through
Jahaanara , a mother of two, is in her early forties. I hate to call her a maid because as I said before she is a very ethical human being, very clean and she is unthinkably fit thanks to the everyday hill climbing to get to work from home; her waist line and abs can put true blue health freaks and celebrities to shame. She also proves very eloquently the point that most of eat us 100% more than what we need for sustenance. Jahaanara survives on two plates of rice with occasional meat and lentil, lots of tea and few slices of breads. I don’t endorse this less than 1000 calories diet. She has no other way because she is poor. But if you are reading this maybe cutting 400 or 500 calories from your diet will not be impossible. (By the way, you can easily cut 500 calories from your daily intake by drinking 10 cups of black tea with no sugar and not drinking any other beverage other than black or green tea, eating no sweets and dumping colas, eating three chapattis less or two helpings of rice less, avoiding fried stuff and walking for 40 minutes briskly. Clichéd but tried and tested by yours truly). Jahaanara works at two houses. At my Mom’s she gets her mid day vegetables, carb and taffeine fix. She has a late breakfast sitting next to Mom as Mom indulges in her elevenses. Her husband a daily wager these days is of no help to the family. Some heavy work has hurt his elbow and has rendered him temporarily incapacitated. So bearing the expenses of the house is now Jahaanara’s sole responsibility. She has so far managed to educate her son as an electrician. Her daughter unfortunately this year had to repeat her metric exams.
This year due to incessant rains in Guwahati one beetle nut tree near Jahaanara’s house lost soil due to erosion and in matter of time collapsed, caving in one of the walls in her house. Given that her house is a typical rural thatched and mud house, one of those many houses that dot Assam’s hill tops and valleys, it was not a very conducive living condition for her and her family. With incomes low and only her salary of less than 3000 Indian Rupees to bank on, getting an advance of ten thousand from a bank is an impossible feat. But don’t they say for every one door shut some windows just yank open. Jahaanara and her neighbours, one of the poorest of Assamese denizens are nonetheless a cohesive and a surprisingly smart lot. For years now her neighbourhood has a community micro-finance facility where everyone deposits some money and depending on someone’s pressing needs a micro loan of about 5000 to 10000 thousand rupee is doled out. The interest is very minimal of just 1 rupee a month. Jahaanara with this scheme could borrow a sum of 7000 rupees to rebuild her house. She would be repaying her loan at the rate of rupees 601 per month. Every few months a few non-profit NGOs supply her and her neighbours with spools of white and red threads for free which they spin into fabrics called “gamoosa”, an Assamese cotton towel, best suited for a very rain prone region like Assam where terry towels take ages to dry. Jahaanara earns some money through this. She also makes brooms which my Mom and likewise buy from her. Very recently she has started growing papayas in her back yard, which are organically grown and ripened. She supplies them too. So Jahaanara a very poor but ethical lady is doing every bit that she can to keep her family eating and living decently. It would have been easy for her to join a factional terrorist group and gun down people and extort money. But better sense prevails and she is leading life with courage and dignity. There are occasional gifts during festivals and my Dad generally gives her "pocket" money more than once a week which he misses giving me and my brother now that we are all grown and away. She appreciates the help my Mom and her other employers give her but like any self respecting human being she does not consider these help as her right and always over delivers through her very good house work. She also, despite being illiterate, unlike lots of urban house helps I have experienced and am currently employing, is cognizant of the fact that charity can only assist till a point. From that point on your own hard work, ethics and a pleasant disposition can get things rolling.
You rock Jahaanara. I just love your ways. You reiterate oft searched but seldom found perspective of humility, a sense of humour and hugely help to endorse that hope is a very strong prop. I am glad I got to know you and I am sure brave that you are, life will see you through
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Please turn on the lights
Festivals are a part of an Indian life. Though I try to celebrate Eid as best as I can, replete with retail, eats and prayers (do I sound like Elizabeth Gilbert here?), there are two other festivals that totally leave me thrilled and happy: Christmas and Durga Pujo. Sadly no other has left me starry eyed because may be there is no treating business.
I especially like Durga Pujo and that is because I have many Bengali friends or is it because I have read too many Jhumpa Lahiris and Amitav Ghoshes? Infact it could be also because of the way it is celebrated by the entire Bengali community... the food, the new clothes, may be the cultural proximity to Assam, the spirit and so on and so forth. Whatever be the reason, I find it bright and it is really the juggernaut of celebrations. What is but celebration without great food and great hospitality. I really can’t relate to people offering me sweets in a sweet box (not even a decent plate) or dry fruits to munch on. Perhaps I am being biased because I come from a family where festivals translate into great food and good clothes and warm hospitality. But can u blame me???...I have seen petite women cooking large meals in a jiffy in my family and I have tried my best to be a chip off that monolith...
For a few years now, a very close friend in the US, a quintessential Bengali woman or a Bong, as it is popularly connoted, has left me weak with joy that I am no anomaly in this eat well and cook better dictum of life. Not once a week eat well, cook better...but all the meals that go with this mantra of eat well- cook better. Let us just say that there are two anomalies now orbiting this strange world of people who can eat like there is no tomorrow but cannot cook or even serve? Is hospitality really so complex? Or like everything else, as prevalent today, not doing it is fashionable, modern, liberating?
In the West celebrating festivals (I am not talking Christmas and Thanks Giving and Halloween) is a wee bit tricky. One does not want un-necessary attention drawn to themselves so I can imagine the lack of too much glitter and sound. Does not the world know that lights, bright colours and sound offer panic attacks to most non-Asians!!! Which is fine. It is like aesthetics, muted colour tones and good lifestyle leading to panic attacks in Indians especially. So we are even. Really. Balance. Chi . Call it whatever you wish to. But how difficult is to celeberate festivals in a non-awkward, non-loud, non-obsequious yet family – oriented way?
How difficult is a little glitz, a little food, a little spirituality, say for the sake of the next generation? Why do we have to be antiseptic and earn other panic attacks. Remember we are Indians?...We already have our bane towards order, discipline (elbowing in the supermarket happens to me all the time, hell at times I do it too), and like I said before, the eternal Indian bane of looking healthy and aesthetics. Can’t we atleast redeem ourselves by being warm, hospitable and if you want to look shapeless what bad is Biryani over Burger? Or Parathas over Pizzas? Be fat. Be Indian fat. Please also gym and wear nothings to look good if you have to as well and if it is your thing. But please serve me my food well, please don’t serve me mithai in a cardboard 2 by 2, please don’t make me wince by buying your ABCD kids Halloween garb and nothing in our desi festivals, both in India and abroad. Come on, it is fun. It is just another reason to blow money, keep the economy going, and an extravaganza that keeps us realising one thing- nothing including values, traditional and ethical, are indispensible. But if you can imbue that to the next generation, what is the harm.
Just like health, traditions once let gone, go away. Being obstinate and totally inflexible about rituals and traditions is one thing. Shunning it altogether, because it is un-cool, is quite another thing. There is always a middle ground. May be that heavily brocaded saree stifles you, wear a lighter one with a halter perhaps. If it isthe cooking that gets to you, you could order in some good food from a decent place but how difficult is serving the ordered in food in a nice dish. Walk up to a Lifestyle or Shoppers Stop. Believe me you will find a serving dish well within your means. I am fine with a Khurja plate too. Every yearly salary increment is not about more investments. Please up your standard of living a wee bit. It will make you want to sit and admire your own house. Just please do me a favour. Don’t become mutants- those people who try to totally throw away what was theirs and emulate something which can’t be theirs or worse still is half baked? That is really sad. I mean eating pasta is Italian and cool, so why can’t a biryani or a luchee and kacha manksho be cool too. Recently I was so glad that there was this biryani noon at my place and all my guests.....all except maybe one or two who have never used their hands to eat rice with, used their god given good hard working hands. Hell, even the Westerners eat with their hands if you think using your digits is cringe worthy. Food like burgers and fries and even donuts is often seen being eaten with hands and sans cutlery. So well, we as Indians have the official certificate to.
The funniest thing happened to me almost a decade ago. A hulk of a batch-mate in my T-school decided to take me out for lunch. I was 19. So don’t blame me for thinking that it was a date. He took me out to this amazing restaurant called the Only Place. This place served the best All American Cheese Beef burger, before Hard Rock Cafe happened to Bangalore. While I was chomping, as daintily as burgers can be decimated, he asked me if I could tell, what was special. I gave him many options- his birthday, his Mum’s, his Dad’s, I almost even said that must have managed to deficate well that morning. Nope, none of these answers was the reason why he took me out for them burgers that day. No sir. ‘Twas 4th of July. American Independence day. I just shrugged and ate. 10 years later when I wanted to connect with him on Facebook, I was debarred. Apparently I am not in his network. He only allows US and Europe regions in his network. I could only laugh. I cannot blame him if after watching Eat Pray Love and India’s piss poor depiction therein he has stuck to his stance. Poor ex-Indian.
In the mean time my Bong pal went the whole nine yards this Durga Pujo and for two good reasons- for herself and for her son’s sake. The clothes, the food and the Pandaal hopping, she did it all. How else will her son learn? I am impressed. And away from India? Wow. Way to go, girl!!!
I especially like Durga Pujo and that is because I have many Bengali friends or is it because I have read too many Jhumpa Lahiris and Amitav Ghoshes? Infact it could be also because of the way it is celebrated by the entire Bengali community... the food, the new clothes, may be the cultural proximity to Assam, the spirit and so on and so forth. Whatever be the reason, I find it bright and it is really the juggernaut of celebrations. What is but celebration without great food and great hospitality. I really can’t relate to people offering me sweets in a sweet box (not even a decent plate) or dry fruits to munch on. Perhaps I am being biased because I come from a family where festivals translate into great food and good clothes and warm hospitality. But can u blame me???...I have seen petite women cooking large meals in a jiffy in my family and I have tried my best to be a chip off that monolith...
For a few years now, a very close friend in the US, a quintessential Bengali woman or a Bong, as it is popularly connoted, has left me weak with joy that I am no anomaly in this eat well and cook better dictum of life. Not once a week eat well, cook better...but all the meals that go with this mantra of eat well- cook better. Let us just say that there are two anomalies now orbiting this strange world of people who can eat like there is no tomorrow but cannot cook or even serve? Is hospitality really so complex? Or like everything else, as prevalent today, not doing it is fashionable, modern, liberating?
In the West celebrating festivals (I am not talking Christmas and Thanks Giving and Halloween) is a wee bit tricky. One does not want un-necessary attention drawn to themselves so I can imagine the lack of too much glitter and sound. Does not the world know that lights, bright colours and sound offer panic attacks to most non-Asians!!! Which is fine. It is like aesthetics, muted colour tones and good lifestyle leading to panic attacks in Indians especially. So we are even. Really. Balance. Chi . Call it whatever you wish to. But how difficult is to celeberate festivals in a non-awkward, non-loud, non-obsequious yet family – oriented way?
How difficult is a little glitz, a little food, a little spirituality, say for the sake of the next generation? Why do we have to be antiseptic and earn other panic attacks. Remember we are Indians?...We already have our bane towards order, discipline (elbowing in the supermarket happens to me all the time, hell at times I do it too), and like I said before, the eternal Indian bane of looking healthy and aesthetics. Can’t we atleast redeem ourselves by being warm, hospitable and if you want to look shapeless what bad is Biryani over Burger? Or Parathas over Pizzas? Be fat. Be Indian fat. Please also gym and wear nothings to look good if you have to as well and if it is your thing. But please serve me my food well, please don’t serve me mithai in a cardboard 2 by 2, please don’t make me wince by buying your ABCD kids Halloween garb and nothing in our desi festivals, both in India and abroad. Come on, it is fun. It is just another reason to blow money, keep the economy going, and an extravaganza that keeps us realising one thing- nothing including values, traditional and ethical, are indispensible. But if you can imbue that to the next generation, what is the harm.
Just like health, traditions once let gone, go away. Being obstinate and totally inflexible about rituals and traditions is one thing. Shunning it altogether, because it is un-cool, is quite another thing. There is always a middle ground. May be that heavily brocaded saree stifles you, wear a lighter one with a halter perhaps. If it isthe cooking that gets to you, you could order in some good food from a decent place but how difficult is serving the ordered in food in a nice dish. Walk up to a Lifestyle or Shoppers Stop. Believe me you will find a serving dish well within your means. I am fine with a Khurja plate too. Every yearly salary increment is not about more investments. Please up your standard of living a wee bit. It will make you want to sit and admire your own house. Just please do me a favour. Don’t become mutants- those people who try to totally throw away what was theirs and emulate something which can’t be theirs or worse still is half baked? That is really sad. I mean eating pasta is Italian and cool, so why can’t a biryani or a luchee and kacha manksho be cool too. Recently I was so glad that there was this biryani noon at my place and all my guests.....all except maybe one or two who have never used their hands to eat rice with, used their god given good hard working hands. Hell, even the Westerners eat with their hands if you think using your digits is cringe worthy. Food like burgers and fries and even donuts is often seen being eaten with hands and sans cutlery. So well, we as Indians have the official certificate to.
The funniest thing happened to me almost a decade ago. A hulk of a batch-mate in my T-school decided to take me out for lunch. I was 19. So don’t blame me for thinking that it was a date. He took me out to this amazing restaurant called the Only Place. This place served the best All American Cheese Beef burger, before Hard Rock Cafe happened to Bangalore. While I was chomping, as daintily as burgers can be decimated, he asked me if I could tell, what was special. I gave him many options- his birthday, his Mum’s, his Dad’s, I almost even said that must have managed to deficate well that morning. Nope, none of these answers was the reason why he took me out for them burgers that day. No sir. ‘Twas 4th of July. American Independence day. I just shrugged and ate. 10 years later when I wanted to connect with him on Facebook, I was debarred. Apparently I am not in his network. He only allows US and Europe regions in his network. I could only laugh. I cannot blame him if after watching Eat Pray Love and India’s piss poor depiction therein he has stuck to his stance. Poor ex-Indian.
In the mean time my Bong pal went the whole nine yards this Durga Pujo and for two good reasons- for herself and for her son’s sake. The clothes, the food and the Pandaal hopping, she did it all. How else will her son learn? I am impressed. And away from India? Wow. Way to go, girl!!!
Monday, August 30, 2010
The Currency of Faith
Nothing is more tragic than losing faith in oneself or the instinct to trust in oneself. When you feel that the whole world has taken turns to judge you and make you feel like an outcast, it is but natural to lose your confidence. Our lives are individual destinies. It was never meant to be similar to another destiny. If that were the case, would not have there been another JFK or John Lennon. No, each of us have a reason to live our lives a certain way. Call this the Big Guy’s quirk. And when you too join in your own booing, the death knell is sounded. You have killed the very human spirit the Rands of the world exhort about.
Losing faith is perhaps the root cause of militancy and hatred, for when you hate yourself, loathe yourself, disrespect yourself, all this because you have lost faith in yourself, the void thus created needs to be filled with other negative emotions. That is why sometimes utter cruelty is meted out to a very good soul. Good souls are happy souls, content, full of faith. And when people who lack this gift see a happy soul, they know that no wealth and no fame can buy that faith. And so they are cruel because they are shamed or maybe they basically have not learnt the art to imbibe rational things. And who is better than the happy soul to turn the cruelty towards….
I feel that the foremost thing is to try and accept that we keep losing little measure of faith every now and then. Once, only after one accepts this fact, can one rationally think through, weigh in option and stop the whole spiral of negative dance. The human brain has three parts to it- the cortex at the top, the brainstem as a stock attached to the cortex and the cerebellum behind the brainstem. The human cortex is what differentiates humans from primates and other mammals. We can think and perceive non essential activities- just not the basic activities like eating, drinking or reacting to survival instincts like fear, reproduction drive or hunger. We perceive wealth, status, societal norms and much more. So a long haul problem is not about panicking and taking sudden uncalculated steps. God knows we do it, all the time. Even for smaller decisions in life really.
Now, interestingly the culture that I am currently part of boasts of lots of money, year on year promotions, exotic holiday destinations, brands, name dropping, swanky jobs and sleek cars. People stand in pubs and terraces and discuss how much they make. Often I see one-upmanship that casts a shadow of pain on the poor victim when Mr. Benedicted says he or she makes a hell raising amount of money or is a rockstar. There is this pan-world phenomenon- loss of shame and decency. When the self sees all the good things, or what one defines as good things, happen to others, Loss of faith is bound to happen.
What sometimes very good souls don’t realize is that some in his brethren praise themselves because perhaps faith gets restored by telling the other person how lofty he stands. So is gaining faith at any cost the most important thing? No. Nada. The importance is in really putting your cards on the table and honestly seeing them. We all are sentient beings. No one knows us better than ourself. We are our best judge and jury and we can regain faith by analyzing ourselves. Brutally and honestly.
So gaining faith is not achieved by looking down on someone and but intelligently analyzing the relativity that exists in the have and have not spectrum of things. As one starts doing it, it will only become clear that the law of life demands that someone will have less than you and yet someone who will always have more than you- be it wealth, health, power, happiness or grief. Now that one has established this very basic truth, it is up to oneself how to use this knowledge. You may choose to fester and wring your hands in utter despair that someone has more than you in the parameter you want to compare yourself in or you may decide to make a poor hapless “lesser mortal” feel miserable because you feel you have more. Further still you may truly count your blessings.
After all no human being is Nature’s aberration. No one is totally good and horribly bad. No will have the exact same path drawn out. So to regain faith of one-self by belittling and disliking someone may seem natural, given that negativity is easier to prop on but that is not faith. That is re-assurance at any cost.
Faith is a very strong and positive emotion which like warmth must suffuse in anyone who comes close to you. Faith is something that keeps hope alive in an intelligent and rational way. Faith does not say keep sitting and you shall get food. Faith is about keep walking and you may getting to see your own vista, your own vista. Faith is to exist as a core that does not seek out for labels to define and prop you. It is very difficult to have this kind of faith. There are more diminishing forces that re-iterating forces.
Faith is also not about condoning inability and inaction. Inability and inaction robs us of the essential element of creativity, which leads to angst and loss of faith. Faith is about doing fundamentally the right, the just, the brave acts with a mix of conviction, pride and rationale. These small but firm acts of self motivation and growth are like Systematic Investment Plans that banks talk about, a small but highly effective medium of an impressive collection of wealth.
Collect small measures of faith every day and when you look back you shall see a sizable repository that will allow you to share this vital life force with another human being. If only we are replete and filled and sated can we offer help to those who may need a little restoration of faith. The small measures of faith can come from learning from others or through your own previously unnoticed acts. That someone who you may learn from could be a friend, a colleague, a leader, a spouse, an offspring, a sibling, a parent or even a perfect stranger. I have found faith in the expected quarters of those few precious who mean a lot to me...my parents, spouse, friends...and also in quarters that do not touch my life intimately and very often.
Losing faith is perhaps the root cause of militancy and hatred, for when you hate yourself, loathe yourself, disrespect yourself, all this because you have lost faith in yourself, the void thus created needs to be filled with other negative emotions. That is why sometimes utter cruelty is meted out to a very good soul. Good souls are happy souls, content, full of faith. And when people who lack this gift see a happy soul, they know that no wealth and no fame can buy that faith. And so they are cruel because they are shamed or maybe they basically have not learnt the art to imbibe rational things. And who is better than the happy soul to turn the cruelty towards….
I feel that the foremost thing is to try and accept that we keep losing little measure of faith every now and then. Once, only after one accepts this fact, can one rationally think through, weigh in option and stop the whole spiral of negative dance. The human brain has three parts to it- the cortex at the top, the brainstem as a stock attached to the cortex and the cerebellum behind the brainstem. The human cortex is what differentiates humans from primates and other mammals. We can think and perceive non essential activities- just not the basic activities like eating, drinking or reacting to survival instincts like fear, reproduction drive or hunger. We perceive wealth, status, societal norms and much more. So a long haul problem is not about panicking and taking sudden uncalculated steps. God knows we do it, all the time. Even for smaller decisions in life really.
Now, interestingly the culture that I am currently part of boasts of lots of money, year on year promotions, exotic holiday destinations, brands, name dropping, swanky jobs and sleek cars. People stand in pubs and terraces and discuss how much they make. Often I see one-upmanship that casts a shadow of pain on the poor victim when Mr. Benedicted says he or she makes a hell raising amount of money or is a rockstar. There is this pan-world phenomenon- loss of shame and decency. When the self sees all the good things, or what one defines as good things, happen to others, Loss of faith is bound to happen.
What sometimes very good souls don’t realize is that some in his brethren praise themselves because perhaps faith gets restored by telling the other person how lofty he stands. So is gaining faith at any cost the most important thing? No. Nada. The importance is in really putting your cards on the table and honestly seeing them. We all are sentient beings. No one knows us better than ourself. We are our best judge and jury and we can regain faith by analyzing ourselves. Brutally and honestly.
So gaining faith is not achieved by looking down on someone and but intelligently analyzing the relativity that exists in the have and have not spectrum of things. As one starts doing it, it will only become clear that the law of life demands that someone will have less than you and yet someone who will always have more than you- be it wealth, health, power, happiness or grief. Now that one has established this very basic truth, it is up to oneself how to use this knowledge. You may choose to fester and wring your hands in utter despair that someone has more than you in the parameter you want to compare yourself in or you may decide to make a poor hapless “lesser mortal” feel miserable because you feel you have more. Further still you may truly count your blessings.
After all no human being is Nature’s aberration. No one is totally good and horribly bad. No will have the exact same path drawn out. So to regain faith of one-self by belittling and disliking someone may seem natural, given that negativity is easier to prop on but that is not faith. That is re-assurance at any cost.
Faith is a very strong and positive emotion which like warmth must suffuse in anyone who comes close to you. Faith is something that keeps hope alive in an intelligent and rational way. Faith does not say keep sitting and you shall get food. Faith is about keep walking and you may getting to see your own vista, your own vista. Faith is to exist as a core that does not seek out for labels to define and prop you. It is very difficult to have this kind of faith. There are more diminishing forces that re-iterating forces.
Faith is also not about condoning inability and inaction. Inability and inaction robs us of the essential element of creativity, which leads to angst and loss of faith. Faith is about doing fundamentally the right, the just, the brave acts with a mix of conviction, pride and rationale. These small but firm acts of self motivation and growth are like Systematic Investment Plans that banks talk about, a small but highly effective medium of an impressive collection of wealth.
Collect small measures of faith every day and when you look back you shall see a sizable repository that will allow you to share this vital life force with another human being. If only we are replete and filled and sated can we offer help to those who may need a little restoration of faith. The small measures of faith can come from learning from others or through your own previously unnoticed acts. That someone who you may learn from could be a friend, a colleague, a leader, a spouse, an offspring, a sibling, a parent or even a perfect stranger. I have found faith in the expected quarters of those few precious who mean a lot to me...my parents, spouse, friends...and also in quarters that do not touch my life intimately and very often.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
let it flow, let it
i saw you as a lovely soft whisper of delicate energy. good souled. u danced in like most good serendipities do. the initial new days stay hazy, of how we got talking, what happened. one day you just told me of how he treats you, how he is and ur swollen eye rims tugged at my heart.
we spoke so many times, of how the nature of cosmic dance is. and u endeavored while i knew this will hurt. while she knew this will hurt. but like birth amd death, pain is complete, pain is inevitable, and pain is the truth. we cant be who we are with out pain can we. nothing beautiful happens with out pain- progeny, continents and new world. so u had to bite the dust. except that it strangely hurts. the anger is not for the one who had this coming your way, the anger is inexplicably for the look of utter bereft in your eyes. yes you pull yourself to your tall gait. but u do die. a little. there is rebirth with this slow death. this decay. but death is necessary for new life isn't it? dont they say, fear not the nadir because it is acme that hurts and while nadir caresses you, u can only stay safe.
u will exhale. gone will be the rose tinted glasses. gone will be the trusting gnome within. pain leaves its mark and it will be a part of your fabric. but you will be so free of guille.. and u will let go. plunge down like alice in wonderland. spiral away and land with a thud. and the rest awhile. you have a long hike up... to the clouds whence you belong... and well, you will get there. not today, may be not even tomorrow, but yes you will in your time...we all do.....
we spoke so many times, of how the nature of cosmic dance is. and u endeavored while i knew this will hurt. while she knew this will hurt. but like birth amd death, pain is complete, pain is inevitable, and pain is the truth. we cant be who we are with out pain can we. nothing beautiful happens with out pain- progeny, continents and new world. so u had to bite the dust. except that it strangely hurts. the anger is not for the one who had this coming your way, the anger is inexplicably for the look of utter bereft in your eyes. yes you pull yourself to your tall gait. but u do die. a little. there is rebirth with this slow death. this decay. but death is necessary for new life isn't it? dont they say, fear not the nadir because it is acme that hurts and while nadir caresses you, u can only stay safe.
u will exhale. gone will be the rose tinted glasses. gone will be the trusting gnome within. pain leaves its mark and it will be a part of your fabric. but you will be so free of guille.. and u will let go. plunge down like alice in wonderland. spiral away and land with a thud. and the rest awhile. you have a long hike up... to the clouds whence you belong... and well, you will get there. not today, may be not even tomorrow, but yes you will in your time...we all do.....
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
i'm a walkin' and a wonderin'
Travelling as they say is the best education. Every time I pack my bags there are flurry of activities around me and within me. I love the thrill of waking up early, have a thrifty bite, get my bags, throw them in the trunk of the car, strap myself and zoom away just as the sun plants its first lazy kiss on the landscape around me. As I had been since I was three or so, even now I am left confounded how after just 10 hours of driving everything around me undergoes a metamorphosis. Roads, trees, people and well ….food!!! What is travel with no delving in food? Nothing really. And though packed lunch is safe and prevents amoebiasis, it represents rigidity and inertia to change. So I love the sweetened milk tea, a contrast to my daily large quota of black/green/some monochromatic tea with no sugar. And I love to replace my oats for something oily and spicy!!! Come on, it’s time to really unwind.
I just know that I will buy more tea mugs, I can, I am positive, raise money for any ailing IT company with just the proceeds of a garage sale of my cups and mugs. How can someone keep buying mugs or tea leaves or silver earrings or books every time he or she travels!!! I amaze myself with these banal buys. And that small shop ahead of Mysore in Gundlapet, that sells one amongst hundred a very Parsee elegant crepe silk saree that which I don’t buy will leave me heartbroken. It’s like an ablution from the usual. It’s trite but it signifies a flight. It is eerily cultish. It is akin to making love to the same man many times and still not having enough of him. It is oh so like discovering a new morning-after nuance after all these years.
This time on my way to Cunnoor, I noticed the aqueducts in Mysore for the first time. They are old, grey and they are of the road. I also now know for sure that the quaint shop that sells flavoured sweetened thick tea on the hair pin bends from Masinaguddi to Ooty is after the hair pin bend number 24. There are 36 hairpin bends from Masinaguddi to Ooty. And they are numbered at each bend as 36/36 and deplete away to 0/36…lo and behold you have reached Ooty. The old Higgins & Bothams in the far corner of Cherring Cross, housed in a burgundy wooden decrepit edifice with its rickety floor panels and scary wooden ladders, had some old and some new books. Tranquilitea is soon to move away from its current location near the Sims Garden. Sandeep, the owner, informed that the 5 year lease would end around October and they must find a new place for the Silver Tips and the Tea Breads. This will be like Elizabeth Taylor courting someone else. It will take some time to find the tea and savories hanging on someone else’s arms but in time we shall acquiesce.
The trek down the Raliah dam towards the forgotten quiet tea shrub slopes hurt my buttocks and calves. I wonder why Vatsayana forgot to mention about these aches and pains as the plump men and plumper women practiced their acrobatic stunts in Kamasutra. It needed lots of hot water and eucalyptus oil from the lone vial I bought in one of the so many spice and natural oil shops dotting teh Nilgiris, to relieve me of the soreness. I hope those acrobatic twits had such a vial. I am sure they did.
Heady yet grounded. These two emotions suffuse me with warmth. As I sat on the lone swing, beside the small cottage that became my abode for three nights and two days, gazing out at the lush green tea shrubs that cover the small hills, with the hope that I may just be able to spot a bison or two, I could only wish I stayed longer!!
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