AN IMPOSSIBLE DREAM

It was a typical Mills and Boons book which did it. The story was cute and romantic with the usual rich, dark, handsome guy falling for the cute, pretty, accomplished gal. It was dreamy; definitely something which would impress a 13 year old girl. But what got her starry eyed was not the passionate love story. Yes, she did believe in those fairy-tale-like love stories and hoped she would find her true love, not necessarily rich. But what remained etched in her mind after reading the book was the location – vibrant and magnificent Spain.

 She read with excitement as the author described the rugged terrains of Andalucia with its warm clear climate and the high mountains. As she read about the haciendas, she imagined palatial mansions laced with blooming creepers, flanked by stables, training arenas and huge grounds and woods on all sides. She was fascinated with Granada, the jewel of Andalucia. She imagined having a romance in those colorful lanes, walking along the magnificent parks and walkways of Alhambra breathing in the fresh air. She wondered if the spectacular Sierra Nevada looked just as the picture in her mind. 

She created images of the dark, rugged and mysterious people and wondered how they lived. As she read through the book, she imagined every detail – the place, the people, the food, the culture, the clothes, their language. She would often call upon those images of the Spain she created, to keep her company at times of boredom or despair. It became her dream – to actually see those places she had read about and imagined in her mind – an impossible dream.

Why? Well her world was very different. She lived in a simple neighborhood, in a modest city in the South of India. Some of her friends had never heard of Spain or the word ‘Aliens’. In all of her 13 years of existence she had never stepped out of her city, except to visit her grandparents in the village. She had never flown in an aircraft in her life. Her future was all chalked out in front of her – study well, go to college, get a job, get financially stable. There was no space for dreams in that world.

Yes, Spain was an impossible dream for her. So she kept it close to her heart; never sharing it with anyone. She never did any research or tried to look at pictures or description of Spain. She wanted to cherish the images she had created just as they were, untarnished with reality. This was her romance.

Will this dream ever come true for her?

                                                                                    To be continued…..

OPERATION ACTION

This corny phrase has been coined by my dear husband while we were searching a name for my new project. This project is my new ambition. The project took shape a week ago, when I wrote the “two year itch”. It was correctly said by some – writing gives you clarity of thoughts. Well, I came up with some brand new goals and dreams. Some of them are aiming quite high J, they would really need a lot of work in years to come. Am really happy with my project – it is big, juicy and quite challenging. It will make my time worthwhile, and finally I feel that I am going somewhere. 

Well I agree we could have done better with the name. But it was the only one which stuck among all the other important sounding ones. Maybe because it was so apt to my project. My project is all about action – it is about getting things done – about making progress. But mostly it is about personal excellence. I chose those areas in my life where I want to excel and Operation Action is my action plan for getting there!!!

A small part of this project is about writing ….and cooking. These are the only two things which have remained in my ever changing lists of interests since childhood. This is as close to being passionate about something I could get. Hence they become an important part of my project. Also these two things would balance my goals in Operation Action, they will give the lighter touch to the other heavy duty stuff. 

My goal is to cook a new recipe everyday….and write a post here in this blog everyday!!! Am sure you are reminded about the film – Julie and Julia? The film starring Meryl Streep and Amy Adams, where Amy plays the role of Julie who takes up a project of cooking through the famous cookbook by Julia Child (Meryl Streep) in one year, and records her progress in her blog. Well this movie was the inspiration behind this goal. However unlike Julie, my blog would not be about the cooking or Julia or about the progress I am making. It would be just some thoughts, a few memories and general stuff in my head. It would need too much discipline (which I do not have) to write about one specific area.

Operation Action is already in motion. The writing and cooking goals are in progress too. You would have noticed the writing part by now. So keep a look out here for some new things…and wish me the best in my endeavors. It’s the beginning of a new journey.

THE UNEXPECTED WHEN YOU ARE DONE EXPECTING

(Perfunctory warning: this is way too serious)

When you are expecting, everyone either talks about pregnancy or the baby. There are numerous advice, warnings as well as cute little memories they share with you. But no one tells you about the period after your baby is born. After all each person experiences it very differently.

In my case – I was devastated. Truly. I had never been incapacitated before. I was tired due to what my body had undergone in the nine months and the sleepless nights weren’t helping. Every inch of my body hurt and it was a huge attempt to just move. I was so depressed that I could see literally myself sinking down the pit. It was made worse by everyone’s obvious elation to see the baby. I was surrounded by family and friends but never felt so lonely or lost before. In addition to that, I would feel so guilty for feeling low at a time like this – when the much awaited baby is finally in my arms. It was supposed to be a happy occasion. I had imagined I would be smiling and jumping around in joy. I had seen others doing it when their baby was born. But not me – all I could do was grimace with pain and despair.

Nobody could understand how I feel, as I couldn’t express myself clearly. Every time I opened my mouth – to ask for help or support – it would invariably become something else – a complaint or whine. I imagined that my family was looking at me with accusing eyes – they seemed to be asking me – “why cant you enjoy with you baby”.

I was afraid of my tiny baby. She seemed like this tiny, delicate, alien thing which needed care but I felt incapable to do anything. It didn’t help that the baby didn’t seem to differentiate between me and anyone else – with the only exception being that she would cry her heart out when I would pick her up. It made me feel so inadequate – as if the baby knew that I was not a good and caring mom.

I didn’t know that it was medical in nature – everything I was going through. I finally got a breakthrough with the help of a friend and a doctor. Post partum depression can be very debilitating. It lasted for almost 3 months. Three months of pain, tiredness, depression and confusion. I understood that this is not a big deal – this depression happens to many, and it eventually fades out. But the damage it did to my self esteem and confidence is tremendous. For a person who was fiercely independent, I had become this person who could not think on her own and had to take other’s advice for everything. Taking simple decisions became the most agonizing task. The extent of the damage was so much that I am still putting together the shattered pieces of my self esteem. Its been 8 months now, and I am finally beginning to see the bright light. I am still just a fraction of the person I was before, but I am patient. I know it will take time, but I will come out a better person.

Now that I look back I see that the whole experience didn’t have to be this way. I think things would have been better if -

-  I knew about the physical pain and tiredness which would come in after giving birth – I would have tried to rest without feeling guilty.

- I would have taken time to know how to take care of myself and baby. I should have prepared for it and focused on it instead of the depression.

- I knew that babies cry and do not sleep in the initial few weeks. That it was ok, and that babies are stronger than we imagine.

- I had sought medical counseling right in the beginning, so that I could have handled it better.

          - People around me would not have kept telling me how their times and experience was different – that they only remember enjoying with their baby and it was so easy for them.

          - I had my closest people around me rather than those who were available. Despite their care and attention, I felt pressure to act normal and fine while all I wanted to do was scream.

          - I could share with others how I felt without feeling guilty – so that I could have got their support. I needn’t have done this all alone.

          - I could break some of the Indian post partum traditions and just could have got out and done things to cheer myself up.

I write this not to complain about post partum times or about how bad it was. This was my way to get it all out of my system. After all the safest time to write about an experience is when it is over and done with.

THE UNEXPECTED WHILE EXPECTING

Pregnancy is one of the most exciting and the most trying of times. It is because you can never be prepared enough for it. However, I did not know that. I was one of those people who wanted pregnancy to be perfect. Hence, I read all the popular and traditional literature, registered in sites and kept in close touch with the doctor. But I had so many unexpected experiences, that I had to write about it. 

My first experience of pregnancy was the tiredness. I would get up in the morning feeling like I have been on a tough trek in the night. This was the only time that I outdid my husband in how much I sleep. The best part of this stage was that I knew deep within me, that something is different in my body. I believe in my instincts quite a lot and I knew what was happening even before the doctors result came in. It was quite an exhilarating feeling. I felt as if I had won a lottery or the first prize in an event in school. It was absolutely amazing….as long as it lasted.

And lasted it did for just a few days. Then set in the tastelessness. I had heard of nausea and all that. But no one talks about the disabled taste buds. Nothing would taste good, not even pizza or chaat or even my favorite – eggs. I started to wonder if I would ever know the flavor of food. I just could not eat, and each meal time would make me anxious – how will my baby get nutrition if I do not eat? One has to experience this to know what I am talking about. Thankfully that stage was over pretty soon; to be followed by advices from every source.

There was so much abundance of advice and care around me, that I never felt the need of my parents J. Everyone would be giving me some absolutely great advice or something completely useless. The best part it all was that they were quite contradicting each other. Don’t climb stairs – climb stairs everyday, don’t eat this- eat this, don’t read books- read a lot of books, don’t take advice – heed our advice…etc. As an observer, I had tremendous fun listening to it all. People who never spoke to me, would be suddenly showing so much care and attention. It was nice to see that the new life inside me was being so loved and taken care of before it was born. Trust me, nothing..absolutely nothing attracts the care of people (even strangers) more than the sight of a full blown pregnant lady.

The biggest unexpected experience was the change in me – emotionally and physically. Hormones played havoc in my body. Physically I was a mess – my body became huge including even my feet which hurt everyday due to my weight, my face was covered with pimples, my skin was dry and scabby…where was the pregnancy glow people were talking about? The only thing that glowed was my hair – due to all the dietary supplements J. But I have never been much bothered about how I look. How I felt  -  was an entire different area. I had the most violent mood swings. I started hating my favorite people and fought with them all the time. I felt angry with all my family and friends. Only the company of strangers felt good. The only person I could stand was my mother. My love and appreciation for her grew so much. After all she had to go through all this to have me. She was my pillar of support in this phase. 

Well, by the time I was fully pregnant with a huge football size belly, I had started to feel that I have been pregnant my entire life. Nine months is a short time, but when you are double your size and walking like a duck, it can seem very long – or maybe it is because of the wait for the exciting times ahead. 

If anyone asks me now – would you like to be in that stage again – I would definitely say a big YES. I just couldn’t stop smiling while writing this down. It is quite a strange experience to know that you have almost been an entirely different person for those nine months. But it also an exhilarating experience too. I think everyone should try this out J

THE TWO YEAR ITCH

I am sure you wouldn’t have heard of this before. That’s because I coined the term – the two year itch, just a few moments ago. This is the story behind the term.

I have been quite restless since a few weeks. So uneasy, that it was evident in my previous post and a few people pointed it out to me. Hence I decided I should do something about it. 

This is what I did – I sat down to think. I emptied my mind of all trivial things, memories and judgments. I thought really hard….Why am I restless? But nothing happened. No profound epiphany happened. I didn’t  give up. I took a sheet of paper and started writing about how I was feeling. I thought it would give me clarity. I penned down a few lines before I had a sudden realization. I had done this before. This wasn’t the first time I have been writing those words. In fact this was not the first time I felt like that. There was an uneasy resemblance to something which I couldn’t remember. There was only one way out. I brought out my old diary, where I had stored inspiring thoughts from inspiring books and movies. And then I found it. The two year itch; the restlessness which came to me every alternate years in different forms, but still the same. And I had written it all down in the diary- all my hopes, fears and action plans; an attempt to inspire myself.

This itch, as I call it is a strange kind of feeling – an emptiness inside me. It is a question – what is the purpose, what am I doing in my life, is it good enough? It all started when I achieved all my childhood dreams and goals. Everyone has them – you know-  travel to a new country, get a great job, money, clothes, house, and education, find the love of your life (not in that order though), etc….. Well I fulfilled them all. Suddenly there was nothing else to do. Nothing to strive or work hard for. Somewhere in the process of becoming an adult I had stopped having new dreams. Nothing looked even half as important or challenging as the childhood goals. I wonder why.

All this is too philosophical for a 30 year old mum, taking care of her baby alone. There is just no time to even breathe. But these thoughts, this restlessness still creeps into my mind. When I look back, I had taken up a new activity every time I had felt this way – trekking, baking, designing clothes, etc. The easiest way out was to work. Work takes up all time and mind space, and I always turned to it in times of confusion and distress. But these activities do not have the appeal or challenge like the activities I did as a youngster – like working hard to get into a good college. 

I do not know what would make me feel differently. Maybe it is good to feel this way. This will keep me going, help me learn and experience new things, aim higher and keep me going. I trust my mind and I think it is telling me to get some action. Now I have to go back to being a child, and find myself some fat, juicy, impossible looking, important goals. That should be a good cure for now.

TO BE OR NOT TO BE

A very famous line from a very famous play written by a very famous person. Oh, what depth one can find in this line. It is one of the major agonies I face …many times in the path of life, in different forms. 

I am a great believer of positive thinking. Yes, I do believe that if you really really want something, you would get it. You just have to wish for it, be happy as if you have already received you wish and be thankful. That’s all it takes for you to have anything.  However, I have recently managed to confuse myself quite a lot with this sort of thinking. It has led to a stage where I began wondering about what to be and how to be, and whether to be at all or not to be. J Let me try to explain myself.

The realization that you can be anything you want brings along with it great responsibility. It is like becoming the prime minister of India now. There are so many challenges and things to set right – a daunting task. I am not being negative at all. I am just talking about how things work out in reality. When I was a child, everytime I read about anything interesting – a hobby, profession, new places or cruisine – I would instantly tell myself – “I will do this”. So before I reached my late teens, I had decided to be a teacher, a photographer, a journalist, traveler, social service person and a marine – depending on what I have been reading or watching then. Most new things appealed to me a lot. And I believed I could be any  of those things. Nothing looked impossible to me. 

 Now, this is common. All children are similar; you would say. Fortunately or unfortunately, in my case, I haven’t changed at all. Even as an adult nearing the mid life mark, I still get extremely attracted to new things. Right now I would love to be a great cook – cordon bleu level, bake gorgeous confectionary, stitch and design clothes like a fashion designer, be an avid traveler and take pictures like in National Geographic, be a very successful businessperson, make money like Warren buffet, write like PG Wodehouse ….and the list goes on. And even now I believe I can be any of those things. In fact I believe in it more now than as a child.

Then where is the confusion – you would ask. Well, the challenge here is discipline…continuity…I have actually managed to get started on a lot of things I wanted to do in life. In fact, if I made a checklist of all my wishes on what I want to be, you would find half hearted ticks on all of them. Yes, half hearted ticks. That is the problem. I have never followed them through. I get started on a many different things – work, hobbies, habits, interests, etc. But have rarely ever continued them beyond a few days or months. How would I be good at any of them? That is quite unsatisfactory a position, if you ask me. Especially when it is in things which matter – like work, food , exercise, humor etc. I have reached a stage, where I have begun to wonder  whether it makes any sense to do anything at all; if I am going to leave it just after getting started.  Why bother at all? Hence my confusion – what to be and if ever to be at all?  I have been looking for an answer many days now. Is it out there? Can anyone tell me?

Just don’t tell me I cant do it all. Leonardo did it, why cant I?…Da Vinci of course…not Caprio ;)