THE AGONY OF BEING UNHEARD

She is 6 years old and loves to talk. She wants to talk about her friends, what they did in school, about some funny man she saw in the street, about the dreams she had last night or just some story her teacher told her in class. Her father gives her a patient hearing, but he is not always there. Mother is too occupied with work all the time. She responds to her stories with silences. She searches intently for some sign of acknowledgement or understanding in her mother’s face. But all she can see is the stony face her mother puts on when thinking about the next task in hand.

She thinks – Mother is always busy.

She is 13. She is a normal teen – confused and excited about a lot of things. But one thing she is sure of is her brother. She looks up to him – he is like a god to her. Every day she waits eagerly for her parents to become busy with their evening routines, because it was then that her brother unfolded for her a new world. He talks about his friends, his thoughts and opinions, dreams and aspirations and also many stories he had read or heard. She listens with rapt attention to every word he says, filing away pearls of wisdom into the farthest corner of her brain. But she is also bursting with things to tell him. She wants to talk about her day, her friends and all the interesting and strange things which happens on a school day. As she starts telling him about it, she watches his eyes slowly get disinterested. Within minutes, he changes – from paying close attention to what she is saying, to planning for the next day or homework or whatever other thing which is more interesting or urgent than his sister’s ramblings. She stops talking. They both get on with their homeworks and daily chores.

She thinks – My stories are not as interesting or as fun as his. I do not have anything to interest him. 

She is 19. Being an undergrad student is quite disheartening to her. Neither a child, nor an adult, she is expected to be both at different times by different people. She belongs to a group of friends who call themselves The Gang. They  love to have fun and frolic around all the time. She often finds their actions silly and sometimes dangerous. Her moral meter flickers dangerously many a times, and then she often voices out her thoughts to her friends. Stop it, don’t do this, this is bad and wrong and dangerous. Soon they have a list of nick names for her – Grandmother, Teacher, Aunty. “Chill and relax, have some fun, nothing with happen” they tell her. She becomes silent.

She thinks – My friends don’t understand me. They find me boring Maybe I don’t know how to have fun. 

She is 23. Graduate college is not at as she had expected. For the first time in years she finds people she can talk to. They actually look at her while they listen to what she has to say intently. She opens her life to her friends as they do to her. She is so happy and excited. She really begins to understand people. For the first time it is so easy to be honest, and bold and confident.

She thinks – Finally, I am living.

She is 26. She has a boyfriend and they spend hours talking to each other. It is mostly her who is doing the talking. She tells him about her work, about the wedding shopping she is doing, about her fears about how marriage would change her life. He listens and responds beautifully. He tells her everything about his life, his family and his plans. She is so happy. At work, she belongs to an amazing team. They comprise of lovely, caring and funny people. They are also very good at what they do. Every day after lunch they gather together to talk and chit chat. Here she tries to tell her opinion or random piece of information. But her words are shot down before they even form a sentence. The others in the team have already thought of it or they disagree with her on it or they just want to say something. She never gets to completely express her thoughts – whether it is about a movie they saw or a project they are working on. This happens every day. She stops saying anything. After some time, she stops meeting up after lunch and makes the excuse of pending work to get back to her cubicle.

She thinks – I am stupid. I don’t know as much as these people. They are so smart and confident and assertive. I have nothing to offer to them.

She is 30. Her husband comes back late from work. He is tired. He is always tired these days. Or has it been months. She doesn’t remember. Over dinner he tells her about how difficult it has become in office. Crazy workload, crazy expectations. He sighs and starts playing with their baby. Within seconds, he is smiling. She had been waiting for her husband to come back from office. She wants to tell about her day, some bits of information, some decisions to be taken or just how it has been. She starts to tell him, but after the initial few minutes – he switches off – already immersed with the baby and meeting its demands of attention. It happens so very often now.

She thinks – What I talk about is nothing important. It is drab in comparison to my baby. It is more fun to play with the baby than listen to me. Maybe I am inconsequential too. What I do in a day does not really matter to him. Maybe I don’t have anything interesting to say. Maybe I tell the same things over and again, like my mother.

She is 50. Her children are grown up and pursuing lives of their own. They do not have the time to talk to her. Her husband is busy with his career, only now he doesn’t talk about it with her. He is kind and patient and helps her with everything. But each of them are living their own lives – Two individual islands in a sea.

She does not think anymore.

Have you ever felt this frustuation? Of trying to talk but being unheard. Maybe you have something important to talk about. Or maybe its just trivial things. Maybe it is plea to help you, give you direction, or maybe it is an offer of help to others. Then how do you feel when that someone doesn’t pay attention to you. Not out of malevolence, but out of plain lack of interest. Maybe if it is an outsider, you don’t mind much – only your ego is hurt. But what about when it is a loved one? Or many loved ones. It is more than your ego which is shattered. Not in one go, but the pieces break off slowly – one at a time. Till there is nothing left. You are no one. Then you are inconsequential, irrelevant. All the achievements, treasures and memories don’t matter when you have no one to share them with.

Maybe each man really is an island.

MY PARENTS WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG!!!

When I was 10 years old, I often wished I had different parents. You see, I didn’t like mine. I felt they were too much of everything - too strict, scolded me too much and were too conventional. I didn’t like the routines and rules they followed in their lives and intended me to do it too. I often thought about how when I would have children, I would raise them differently. Some of my displeasure was also due to watching too many English movies where the parents are carefree, laughing and let the children do anything they want. Of course I was too young to know that movies mostly show what we want to see. Another contributing factor to my dislike of my parent’s ways was due to comparison with my friend’s parents. Yes, it is not just grownups who compare their children with others, it happens in the reverse order too. Ask any teenager J

Anyways, now that I have a child of my own – whose future I am responsible for, I see myself taking the same path as my parents. Not because that is the only parenting I have actually seen. Rather, it is because they were right all along. All through my childhood and teen years, my parents have been preparing me for now – a happy, independent and strong adult. Only, I didn’t know this then. As I look back now, I see how every step or action they have taken is helping me right now. Let me describe to you how.

The one thing I hated the most was doing household chores. My mother had me doing the dishes when I was 8 years old. Every day after lunch, I would trudge down to the washing area and clean the plates and bowls, all the while dreaming about watching tv or going out to play. If I would protest, I would get an earful from my mother. Her often repeated dialogue was “You don’t know anything, you will realize the value of this when you grow up”. By the time I was twelve years old, in addition to the dishes, I would sweep the house, chop vegetables and cook simple things like eggs. And mop the house in the weekends. Meanwhile my friends were off learning tennis and horse riding. How I hated the housework!! But little did I know that this practice would make my life easy as an adult. Today I can do everything around the house in a jiffy and it is not an effort at all. I never get the anxiety attack which most women experience when their maid takes a leave.  Why? I even got a compliment from a maid that I chop vegetables faster than her or anyone else she knows. Now that’s one compliment I am really proud of. Thank you mom.

I know we have help for all this now, and no one really cares about house work. But knowing how to make your own food and keeping the place you live in clean - these are essential life skills. Possession of these skills doesn’t get recognized but the lack of them is acutely felt. All the single men and women staying away from family would know what I am talking about. Mastering these skills takes away the mind space and stress taken up by these daily activities. Today I work in automode – these things do not take up my time, effort or energy.

Another thing I hated as a child was getting up early in the morning. My parents were early risers – they would wake me up, each for their own reasons. Mom would expect me to study; she believed that our mind is fresh in the morning and would absorb the most, compared to rest of the day. My dad would take me running and do yoga. You can imagine my feelings then. While my friends could sleep late, till 10-11 am during weekends, I would have to get up 6 everyday, if not earlier, irrespective of the day of the week. No late night movies for the reason that it wouldn’t help me get up in the morning. I find it funny that all those years I resented this the most, because now I find it the most effective way to start the day. Over many years and many trials on how to lead my day, I have found that the age old routine which my parents have been insisting was the best one for me. Today I get up at 5 am, do some yoga or walking, and get a major chunk of my work done before it is 9am. I find myself the most focused and productive in the morning. Well, frankly the motivating factor which pulls me out of bed every morning is the fact that I would get some quite time for myself before my toddler wakes up. The rest of the day is a whirlwind. But I feel wonderful because I already have done what I want in the morning. How the rest of the day goes – doesn’t effect me, my work or mood.

My parents live frugally. In the earlier days, it was out of necessity, but now they do it out of choice. In my childhood, I never had pocket money, had new clothes only couple of times a year and we never ate out. When I was younger it didn’t really bother me, but as I grew into my teens I didn’t like it. I had frequent fights and debates with my parents on this aspect. I wanted us to live freely, enjoy the money we had. I found it especially hard when I saw people less financially stable living more luxuriously. I revolted, took up summer jobs and blew that money in the way I wanted. They watched silently, knowing that while I have not learnt to spent money well, I had learnt what it means to earn it myself. My parents had taught me the value of money. I realize that my parents saw things differently from how we see things now. My dad has a simple formula – he felt that if we are not saving or investing at least 50% of our take home incomes, then we are living way above our means and are not financially sound. Today I couldn’t agree with him more. Living like that my parents have become financially independent enough, that they wouldn’t have to work another day the rest of their lives. More importantly, they have helped me learn to be financially sound. Right now, my family’s monthly expenses are less than half of what some of my friends pay as rent!! This gives us financial leeway to do a lot of things – investment, a loan free apartment, travel, etc. Thanks to my parents for this valuable lesson.

My parents rarely attended the Parents Teachers meetings when I was in school. They also rarely dropped me or picked me up from the bus stop to school after I entered my teens. I had to walk all the way – almost 3 km everyday. Even when it was dark. While most days I enjoyed this sense of being an adult and freedom, I hated it when I was tired. What I never realized was that they were making me independent. They were teaching me to be responsible for myself and how to be cautious. It is because of them that I learnt not be scared when alone. I have travelled to far off places alone, lived alone in a new city while I was single and working and am completely independent. Today I can never get lost or scared in any new place. I know how to get out of situations.

Oh! There are many other things I can go on and on about my parents influence on me as a person. My dad would always insist on me reading books and writing articles, essays etc. Of course I didn’t know then, that later on – writing would become my one creative outburst. This blog is mostly due to my father’s inspiration and persistence. In fact writing has also become my source of income over the past few years.

I cannot help smiling when I look at myself today. I am living my life in the way that my parents have been asking/teaching me to; the way that I hated as a child but now I find most fruitful, comfortable and wise. The rules and routines I despised then, now I embrace because they make my life easier and more meaningful. My parents always used to tell me to be independent. I thought they meant – work, earn, be financially independent. But what they actually meant was true independence – freedom from anxiety, dependence on people. They have given me self reliance and the ability to take care of myself and my family. They were so right. 

P.S.: Hey this doesn’t mean that I agree with them on other things. There are still a million things I argue with them about. Who knows as I become older (wiser?) I might see the value in what they say. 

FIXING IT

It was a pair of small orange scissors – quite simple and cheap. While it played a very important role in my kitchen, it was not a prized possession and quite easily replaceable. So when it broke one day, I didn’t think twice about throwing it into the dustbin. But my then friend and now husband stopped me. He took the scissors, wound up the broken plastic part with thread, coated it up with hot wax from a candle and behold, my tiny scissors was back to being fully operational. Frankly I was quite impressed with him. He looked like the kind of guy who could do things around the house :P. Such guys make great husbands!!!

Anyways, it was 5 years ago and I still have that pair of scissors and it is still cutting things up quite well. It would have never crossed my mind to fix it up like that. It is exactly how most urban people live. When things get broken, we throw it away and buy a new one. We think we do not have the time to fix it or that we have enough money to buy a new one with more “advanced technology”. So what is wrong with it – you would say. I say we should give “fixing things” a chance before we jump to the store to buy a replacement. Here are my thoughts on why.

I think we don’t really value the things we own. Often that’s the case with the people in our lives too. While we use our possessions mercilessly, we take them for granted. But the moment they threaten to not serve us, we throw them away. Imagine if we were treated this way by the other people in our lives? I say we need to learn to value the things and people around us. Can we survive a single day without them? No. Then why don’t we give our scissors, tools and phones a second chance? Why not take care of them and coax them to stay with us a little longer. Take them to the guy who fixes things and get them working. Who knows how many more years it could serve you.

You might wonder - why should you take the effort? You could just buy a replacement with much lesser effort and time. Well here’s why – You save lots of money!!!

Most of the times, fixing things would save you quite a lot of money. Here’s an example. My laptop charger broke a couple of years ago, when I was in metro city in the south. When I took it to the showroom, they suggested I buy a new charger which charged me 1500 rupees. Well, I didn’t mind then. That charger served me for two years, till it broke again a week ago. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) I live in a very small town. When I took the charger to the only computer shop in the town, he gave me two options. One was to order for a new charger which will cost me 1500 rupees again but I would have to wait for a couple of days. While I was contemplating life without the laptop for those couple of days, the shop owner gave me the other option. He could fix my charger for 200 rupees and he could do it right then. A little more than an hour later, I was on my way back home with a fully functional charger in my bag and the idea of this post in my head.

Is this not great? We live in India- the land of Jugaad. They say anything can be done or fixed or customized in India. Then why not use this great ability which we have around us in abundance?

Here is another reason to try fixing things – Do not fall prey to consumerism. Everywhere we see, we are being pushed, cajoled, manipulated or convinced to have more, spend more, buy more. I don’t get it why do we need so much? Frankly we don’t really require that latest smartphone or the expensive stereo but these corporations with their flashy products and glossy commercials psychologically convince us that we cannot do without them. They are just making money!!! Why don’t we get that? More importantly, they are making money by taking away our money – our hard earned money. And we give it away without a second thought. I say we say no to consumerism. Lets buy things which we really cannot do without and leave the rest. Life would easier, simpler and more happier.

I know what you are thinking right now. Of course its your money and you can spend it the way you want to. But atleast think about the environment. Each of our human products which is being built/made is destroying our world little by little. The waste from the factories dumped around, the resources being consumed, the air and water being polluted – it is not “them” that’s doing all this. It is us too – every time we buy something, they make another two for it. We cannot do without many things, but lets not encourage the manufacturing of the luxury items. Or try and make the phones, laptops, mixer or TV we own work longer and postpone buying new ones. Each time we do that, that is one less item being produced, our tiny contribution to environment’s conservation. And of course one more livelihood – the repairing guy gets a chance to live. Here’s how it happens.

Our car got some major trouble recently. The service centre gave us a quote of 75K – their solution was to replace every troublesome part with a new one – even if the part was just dented. Instead, we took the car to the local mechanic and two days later – the car was completely fixed with the same old parts but working absolutely well and with just 15 K in monetary damages. We get a new car, and the mechanic gets his livelihood. There you go.

I wonder what kind of message are we leaving for our future generations. Instead of this guzzling of new stuff which appears in the market, we need to teach them to value things. We need them to learn to be self sufficient – they should be able to fix things themselves; whether it is broken scissors or a broken relationship. They should learn to not throw away things at the first sign of trouble and learn to make them work. If we are able to pass the right message, then they will be less cruel and learn to give things and people a second chance.

There is this famous joke about how Indians use a T shirt in different ways as it ages, till it becomes a mop. I think we should be proud of this quality. Most of the country does live like this. I grew up in a home where the milk packets, used bottles and tins  were sold to the recycling guy (raddiwala for u), cream from the milk was used to make home made butter and used/torn clothes were sold to old ladies in exchange of utensils and other kitchen ware. Things were not just strewn around the garbage. But the urban lot is slowly moving away from all of this, including me. We have been so much influenced by the west and the world of consumerism. We need to remind us of ourselves, our roots, our values. Maybe we need something like the “Made in India” movement – we need a “Fix it” movement. 

WANTING MORE AND MORE ON IT

No matter how many resolutions and projects I make, inspirational books and movies I see or the countless self help books and articles I read – deep inside I have not changed at all. Let me correct myself – I haven't changed even on the superficial level. To be clear: change here means – self improvement. I always want to be better than I already am. What kind of better would you ask – why? It’s the same as everybody wishes – I want to be happier, more calm and peaceful, less angry, more smart and efficient, more creative, be better at my work, make full use of potentials, opportunities and situations, be a better wife, mother, daughter, be of more use to the world, etc. This list is endless.

Anyway, here we have me – always wanting more of everything; mostly from myself, and here is the endless material available in the world in the from of books, talks and coaches on how to reach there, i.e., get more out of yourself. Sounds good right? Problem followed by the solution. Unfortunately none of them have helped me so far. I have followed the suggestions and advises from these resources to the T but they are not helping at all. I am still unsatisfied with myself. All the time.

I kept pondering over this for a long time. After a lot of epiphanies and realizations over time (during which I came up with several plans, projects and strategies) I began to feel like an onion. I peel off a layer thinking – finally I have figured out what is wrong with me or the world and now I can correct that thing. But soon that euphoria dies down and I realize there is another layer below. This has happened several times, and frankly by now I am quite confused between each layers – I mean the realizations and learning are quite mixed up in my head. Putting all this aside, this peeing of layers – maybe that is what is called the process of developing wisdom. While I cannot claim to having any of it, maybe, I am in the process.

Wise or not, this onion idea is hardly going to help me with my problem. But one fine day, a simple thought dawned on me. Ok, I should be frank. The idea didn’t just dawn on me, but I rather read about it in a book – ONE STRAW REVOLUTION. Anyways here it is – maybe my problem is the problem. I mean, my need for more – from myself and the world- that is the problem. Why do I want more of everything? What is wrong with what I have? The fact is that I have a lot – family, friends, security, love, time and health. Then why want more? What will I get when I have more? If I have learnt anything from the past – I will still be me after I get the “more”. Would I be happier if I am more smart, efficient or have more time? Why – even now I have more of these things than 10 years ago. But am I happier than I was 10 years ago? I don’t think so. Then why not be happy just with what I have. Right now, right here. Bang – here I feel is the solution to my issue.

In wanting more and obsessing about it I am losing the only thing I really have – my present. By removing this “wanting more” clause from my head, I can learn to be happy with myself and things NOW. Not in the future when I will have the “more” but now.

Don’t get me wrong. I am still for self improvement and development and all that. What I am talking about here is separating the happiness quotient from it. Becoming better should be a natural result of doing what you do well, it shouldn’t be an obsession. It shouldn't be a condition on which your well being depends. Simply put do what you do – well – and you will be happy. Any better you get, is additional bonus.

Actually – this is just a part of the whole picture. Not “wanting more” alone is not enough. There is the necessary removal of all unwanted things, focusing the on the true essentials and living with less – less materials, less thoughts, less distractions and less projects. Do less, but do whatever you do well. More on the whole picture in later posts.

A last word – I wonder if is this realization too a layer of the onion that is me? 

WOMEN OF SUBSTANCE

I am not a feminist, not that I know what it really means. I think there are fundamental differences in each sex and vaguely understand the possible reasons. Maybe it helps the society maintain an order and eases its operation through division of labor - Women take care of house and children while men work outside and generate finances. This arrangement suited life for everyone many many years ago. But not anymore. This so called division of labor has become something else. It has led to the oppression of women at a very deep rooted level. It has reduced woment to the status of an inanimate thing in the house - which has its purpose and use but no one cares how it exists or asks its opinions or think about it. They do not have any power over themselves - power to make decisions or stand up for their own.  They do not even have the power to chose and do things for their own children - like how much to educate, when and whom should they marry their children etc.

The question which keeps troubling me is not about equality or equity. I just wonder that for someone who contributes so much to a family and society, the respect and power a women gets is pathetic. I am talking about most women in India - not the tiny population who get educated and work and have freedom to live their life the way they want to. But the financial and emotional independence she achieves is at new costs - they are constantly under the scanner - for either being too ambitious and not caring enough for her family or for sacrificing her career and focusing on her family. She faces fire from all sides. The situation often makes me feel desperate and delusional. A midst these thoughts, one day I came across this book - A Space of her own -a collection of stories of incredible women - who make it all the worth.

The book tells us stories of 12 women collated by Leela Gulati. 12 ordinary women, facing extreme oppression through their life, create extraordinary lives for themselves and their families. Most of these stories is set between 1920-1980; a time when India was still struggling to settle down as an independent country. There was no time and attention given to women and their upliftment - It was a time when women were considered best in the kitchen and silent. They didn't have any power or voice to their own lives and opinions. They lived a life of servitude. Set in such times, these women have broken all traditions, went abroad to study and work, chose their own life partners, remarried as divorcees or widows, some even remained single all their lives - but mainly  they lived the way they wanted to. These were working women, despite having children to take care of and made tremendous impact on the society. They were passionate about progress and freedom, and created a better future for other women. Here are some examples of what these women have achieved.

Radharani was widowed at 13 and forced by her mother to follow the strict rituals of a widow like eating only once a day and wearing the white cloth, while being complete de-sexed with chopped hair and no jewelry or makeup. Whom did she get her hope but from her mother - in - law, who took her in and gave her all the opportunity to develop and grow. Self educated and well read, Radharani’s poetry was published in major literary magazines in 1920s and she had built a reputed career as a writer, from her mother in law’s house. She remarried when she was 28 at a time when it was considered to be the greatest sin which would haunt the family for generations. Why even when her daughter got divorced decades later, it was blamed on the widowed mother’s remarriage. Radharani went on to become a famous literary person, who not only impressed people in India but also abroad. She traveled extensively through Europe. She did all this through grit and determination, standing strong against the criticism and oppression she faced from all around the society, even her own mother. She taught the same to her children. Her daughter was the famous Nabneeta Sen Dev, who did her masters from Harvard and is a distinguished writer in the international circuits. She has won several awards both Indian and International. She achieved all these despite being divorced because of the help and support provided to her by her mother Radharani. This was all happening at a time when most female population in India was barely getting primary education. Quite inspiring I say..

Vina Mazumdar - she recollects her mother giving her a very valuable piece of advice - “If you see yourself, your husband and  your children as the boundaries of your concerns, the older you grow you will find your mind becoming smaller. Remember you are a part of a privileged generation, you are receiving education for which women in the rest of the country have to struggle for years”. Her mother, married at 11, had under the guidance of her sister in law and her husband, self educated herself at home along with managing the huge joint family house. Another case when Vina was consumed with confusion and guilt for not being able to do justice to her two major responsibilities -  being a mother and a professional university teacher, her father gave her a very wise viewpoint which helped her a lot in future. “ You are trying to balance only between your responsibilities as a mother and as a teacher. There is a third factor - if you introduce it, you will see the equation will resolve itself. This country has made a major investment in your education. Never mind the fact that the money came from me, it was still this poor country’s contribution. Do you have the right to waste that investment?”. These valuable advice and words of wisdom have haunted me since the day I read the book. They are so true, not only in the 1950s when this was all happening but even today when the world has moved on so much. I cannot believe this was coming from a generation - where the women got married as children, never had any formal education and never stepped out of the house. Makes me wonder what are we women of the 21st century doing? What wonders or miracles are we performing in our privileged lives?

The book talks about a woman who was married at age of 12 and took control of her new home consisting of huge joint families. How did she have the courage and knowledge required to manage such a big household at such a tender age. She was Vijaya Mehta’s mother. Vijaya Mehta herself was the legendary stage performer who has ruled the Maharashtra field of theater for a long time, setting the standards high. She joined theater when she was 18, in the 1940s : even before India had achieved independence, here was a women asserting hers. Her mother - in- law was Durga Khote - the famous and inspiring actress. Durga was widowed at a very young age, and became the sole breadwinner with the family having lost its fortune overnight. She joined films ignoring the social humiliation she faced for this decision. But she built a career for herself in the films, educated her two sons well and managed to have a comfortable life for herself when she retired. This was at a time when motion and sound pictures were still a new thing in India.

There were other stories which were extremely sad and set in difficult times - made difficult by people and their tiresome, irrelevant traditions rather than circumstances. These are accounts we all know of - how girls education is passed over, child marriage, child widows and their treatment, life of serving the husband and his family, treatment faced by family and sometimes own children, etc. I do not want to recount these tales but would assert on the courage and will of these women who have faced these difficulties and have come out shining and an inspiration to us.

I would say I am a changed person after learning about these persons. I no longer just crib about the society and its role in women oppression. The oppression does exist, but there are so many who have gone and just done what they want and the society still continues. In fact it has become better due to their endeavors. This gladdens my heart and inspires me to be among those women who made a difference. A toast to those women of substance!!!

THE RIGHT CHOICE?

“And it would be great if she has an off beat job....not a routine one but one which involves going to nice exotic locations”, said Raj. Shailu laughed at him. There were discussing the kind of girls suitable for him. Though friends from childhood, they had never come upon this topic untill recently, when he had started to feel that he was old enough to get married. As he had no girlfriend, he had to rely on matrimonial sites to look for the person of his dreams. They were discussing the list of “requirements” in the girl while this particular one turned up. Raj added “ But most travel based jobs involve going to same drab locations and staying in bland hotels”. “ Of course not” She quipped. “What about those working in National Geographic?”. This time Raj laughed out loud. “ What are the chances of finding an Indian, that too a girl, working in the National Geographic?” 

Shailu remained silent. It triggered some very troubled emotions in her. She remembered something she had buried so deep inside her that she had forgotten about it. It was about how she had imagined her life should be when she was much younger. Shailu sighed, not bothering to reply to Raj....Soon she was lost in her thoughts. As a child she had loved reading and watching English films. They opened her to a new world, very different from where she was living. In that world people had higher goals in life – not just living for food, shelter and safety through bank deposits. Her father would add to her enthusiasm by telling her to aim higher, do different things in life. Every dinner conversations used to be about different professions she could follow, or places she could see or things she could do. 

As she grew into her teens midst this environment, a pattern emerged in her thinking. She noticed that she loved to read about nature, be in nature, specifically the wild. Slowly as she gained more and more knowledge about nature, she became passionate about it. She wanted to work on the conservation of the wild. That was what she wanted to dedicate her life to. But she didn’t want to be an activist or work with an NGO. She wanted to be in it, be a part of nature, while working towards it. But she was too young, didn’t know how could she go about it. One fine day she discovered the National Geographic. It was then that she became clear on how she could do her bit on conservation of nature, without being an activist. She became quite keen on joining it, wanting to make her career in it. She kept researching on it and dreaming about it. She got to know of other such big organizations which were doing great work in conservation of wild life, but she remained focused on NGC for quite some time.

Maybe it was the adventure of exploration, of venturing into the forests, observing life at its most basic…She couldn’t really make out what appealed to her about this life, but she was obsessed with it. She imagined a life full of travels to different places, spending days under the canopy of trees, nights in chilly deserts, sleeping in tents, coming back to civilization only to make reports, documentaries and buying supplies. It all looked incredibly romantic and novel to her. 

“Where and how did all that passion go?” – wondered Shailu. Did it all get buried under peer pressure and the need to succeed as people normally define? Today she is a well-qualified woman, working in a multinational organization. She lives in a modern city, has her own house, car and bank balance. She travels abroad for holidays. She has a loving husband, and two beautiful children. Everything which anyone wanted. But not she. She had always wanted something else -  a life of travel, adventure, new places and new things. Instead she had taken the well known path as everybody. She can never leave this path now or ever – due to her family. However, if she had chosen that other path – the one she wanted, she couldn’t have had this wonderful family..and the amazing luxury she was living in. How would that have been? Could she have lived that life? Wouldn’t she have felt lonely and incomplete without a family?...Was she really made out for the grueling life in wild...Phew….both sides had its boons and sacrifices. How does one choose? Especially when the chance presents itself at a tender age – when you are young and inexperienced. When you do not know the value of achievements, dreams or the need for love and support from a family….

“Where are you” quipped Raj. Shailu sighed and replied that she had to a meeting, ending that conversation. She was too lost in her thoughts to have a meaningful conversation about life partners. As she walked to get a cup of coffee, she kept pondering over her choice of life. She knew that she gave up her dreams to be a regular person – for family,comfort and money. Though she would be perennially looking for a bigger sense of purpose in her life, she is absolutely sure that she was on the right path. If she had chosen the other path, she would have missed this one badly!! She loved her family and home too much. But right now, the choice she had made didn’t trouble her as much as another question – Should she induce such dreams and thoughts in her children like her father did?  Should she encourage them to pursue their “different” dreams - knowing that life could be hard and lonely there, but more fulfilling and satisfying? Or should she tell them about the sacrifices one has to make to their dreams come true - which she never made? What picture should she paint for her beautiful children?

EXCUSES!!!

Finally am back here...after 4 months and numerous attempts. Like everything else which goes wrong in life, I blame my dear (read poor) husband for this gap in my writing.  He got back from a year long assignment at a god forsaken place a long way from home and having missed me and our baby tremendously, he is ready to forgive me for all such blames - past and future. I will be sure to remind him of this generosity at every available opportunity. 

While he was away, our baby grew up rapidly to be a handful crawler. Despite taking care of our baby single handed, I always found enough time to get into Project Action I had written about; one of which involved writing every day (almost). I was doing quite well in this.... till he arrived back home - all laden with gifts and kisses. Ever since then, I couldn’t muster enough time to think about my blog. What is it about husbands being home, that makes wives very busy? I am daring to put such a generalized statement because I have heard the same from many other married women. They never seem to get anything done when the hubbies are home. This actually defies all logic. Today’s men are quite considerate and thoughtful ones. My  husband for example, not only helps with the baby, but also with all household chores. Why, he even goes for the dreaded vegetable/grocery shopping for me. Then why do all stay-at-home women find weekends the most busiest days of the week? 

Well frankly I cannot really put all the blame for my hiatus in writing on my husband. Circumstances should shoulder some of it. These past four months involved a shift of our home to another small town, a month long holiday with the in-laws and an growing baby who just got to know what separation anxiety is. All of which are extremely time and attention demanding. Take the house shift for example. It is a living nightmare for anyone. The packing up and loading into trucks is just the tip of the iceberg. The real effort starts when you unpack and try to figure out where each thing should go in a unfamiliar and new house. God forbid if the new house is smaller or bigger than the one before. Then it is like inventing the wheel all over again. After a month of racking my brains, the house cupboards and snatching moments when my baby is sleeping to work, I finally managed to get the house to an acceptable state of disorder. 

It was not just the lack of time but also the state of mind which didn’t help  me in writing. Something about a disorganized house leads to a disturbed mind. In between all which was happening, I was visited by my ghosts again. The ever troubling question of ‘what I was doing with my life’ came back to haunt me again. Anything I tried to write during that period was heavily negative and looked terrible. I had to go through the entire series of soul searching, crying, frustration and free flow diagrams to come to a conclusion - which was the same as a few months ago and which lead to Operation Action. Life has a funny way of showing that the search of meaning or higher purpose is futile; just create one if it is all that important to you, its easier than searching for one.

 

By the time all this got over, it was peak winters here. It was so cold that my brain froze over, not letting my limbs do anything other than curl up under the blankets. Short misty days, and long shivering nights ensured that I remained as lazy as I could. But now, the sun is finally out and the garden is full of chirping birds and beautiful blooms. So here I sit a midst nature awakening after a long cold spell, hoping that I too would come out of my long break, and get back to some writing. Wish me luck my friends, and keep reading!!!