Not in the fulfillment of...

   I was listening to a podcast yesterday when the speaker said something poignant. He said you can heal, only if you feel. Now, having worked with and on myself for several years, I know for a fact that when we're faced with some of our biggest pain points... it can be incredibly tough to face it head on. To sit with the feelings of pain, loss, etc. To acknowledge them and give it space and time to accept. Usually, we choose to numb ourselves with distractions. Binging on food, alcohol, partying, recreational drugs, gossip, videogames, and the list goes on and on... 

 While I feel that, to a certain degree, one should allow oneself one's method's to unwind... Problem with us humans is, we rarely know when to strike a balance. If it's deciding to start exercising, then either being unable to find the motivation after the initial burst of enthusiasm, or going hard for 7 days a week, only to try and feel the pain in our muscles instead of addressing a soul cry. Eating disorders, negative self image issues, anxiety... all of these stem from us being compulsive about our lives. Because we're so disillusioned by life after a point, that we'll do everything to avoid it. 

 When we're in our teens and are given the illusion that surrounding yourself a bunch of friends is going to make you feel good. And so we do. We largely buy into that and think that being popular is going to bring us that happiness. Then as we make our way into adulthood, we're given to think getting that no, it's actually that well paying job at that amazing MNC which is going to do it for us. Life's going to be set, yeah! ... Only to realize the hollowness of that statement in a year or two. Then of course we have our amazing capitalistic economy that can be counted on to tell you that "Hey! Buy this and you're going to feel amazing!" "Wear this and you're going to look the best you have in years!" "Eat here, it's happiness in a box!" ... No. No, it isn't. Then we're pressured into doing things by this annoying, all comprehensive invisible bubble called Society. Ah, society. Wonderful society. That insists that there's an age for everything. Everything... Graduate at this age, get a job at this age, get a spouse at this age, pop kids at this age and then let the cycle perpetuates itself. I mean... I am so sick of the banner of happiness being waved around in children's' faces by their parents (who themselves were sold onto this rubbish by their parents, for whom none of this has brought happiness in the first place) and yet here we are. 

 Strange how we keep pursuing one thing after another and we're too far into the quicksand when we realize that neither did the previous desire being fulfilled give us the long term happiness we were seeking, but here we are. In this perennial chase. And then just like that, we die one day. 

                                                                       ***

 I had a bit of an epiphany yesterday as I sat in my balcony. I have been wrestling with some feelings of inadequacy myself and was just sitting and trying to be in the moment of watching the gentle sun's rays while I could hear someone mowing their lawn in the distance, and birds doing their little 'cheep cheep' simultaneously... And it was as if something dawned on me that I hadn't known all my life. It was what Oprah would call an 'Ah ha" moment. I realized that true happiness, which I'll call Joy... Isn't of the mind at all.    

Now I know maybe to some, this statement might not make sense, and to others, it might be a fact they've known all their lives... But to me, it was a 'Well slap me silly and call me Sally' kind of moment. Because... if happiness isn't of the mind, then what is it of? That's something to think about. But at least it sorts out the mad scramble of the next thing that will bring joy-- Going on that vacation will bring joy! The next trinket will bring joy! That monster milkshake will bring us joy... We only think it will because the mind keeps us in the illusion of 'Next! Next! Next!'...

So I'm going to leave you with that thought. That true joy, is not of the mind. Because true joy is not transient. True joy cannot be an absolute quantity. It just is. 

Tough things to work through...

   I think once you're in your 30s and in what society deems as 'in the thick of things'... one isn't quite given the time and space to deal with life's deeper issues and traumas we've faced up until then. It is only now, thankfully that going to therapy and having shrinks is normalized but (at least in the way I was raised and what I saw among the elders around me) everyone was just expected to keep their chin up and carry on with their life. 

  But that's the thing see... Traumas get carried on. We pass them on either to the next generation or pass it along through our friends like it's their burden to carry... Maybe I should come directly to the issue at hand in what I'm trying to say. As a victim of sexual harassment, who has been molested at the age of 15, been groped, brushed up against, stared at, cat called, followed home... it was only while sitting on the couch a little while ago, and having a rather heated discussion with someone close that I realized how little some people understand of the extent of sexual trauma people face. And how that isn't addressed properly for years, or in some cases, a lifetime. It is of course extremely unfortunate when (some) people use their victimhood for their benefit (read: Depp- Heard case or what we know of it) but a lot of times, what victims of abuse need is just their voice being heard. And acknowledged. Hoping that society will change its ways, and for perverts to stop being perverts, is a big ask... But having someone listen, without judgment, without giving justifications like "oh it was just the alcohol," "oh they're just socially awkward so booze makes them like that," is like me saying my monthly hormones make me want to punch someone in the face till they bleed. Every month, and that it's fine, it's just the hormones" ... It's not fine. If violence makes the recipient uncomfortable, shouldn't it be the same for the recipient of unsolicited sexual overtures? 

  If I were to punch someone in the face every month, would I be given leeway and would people look the other way and say "oh but she's had a hard life, she doesn't know how to deal with it" or would someone just call the cops on me? So if I'm being touched, or if someone's trying to force a conversation with me, or attempting to hold my hand (all in a social setting, in the guise of being "friendly") should we all look away and put it down to the perpetrator having a tough life, or that it's the fault of the alcohol, or call them out on it?

 The more I see of the world, the more I realize that it's the external wounds that get most attention. That's why we live in this superficial world. That oh, only cause it's a bruise, you've been abused and have the wound to show for it. Or oh, if you have the proof of the torn clothes, only then something majorly wrong has been done. But if it's fine on the surface, what about the wounds on the inside? Can a dab of Neosporin or some stiches fix that?... 

  No, but maybe a listening ear can. Someone who wants you to stop hurting, can. When they support, instead of combat. When they don't challenge your feelings of the events. When they don't jump up to give "the other person's point of view" ... I understand relations need to be maintained. I understand not wanting to upend something precious built up over the years.. But I also know harboring pain, shame, guilt and hurt don't benefit either. Only when you're fully healed can you fully use a grievously hurt arm/leg. So only if you're fully healed from past traumas can you move past the mental pain and anguish. 

  I was watching an episode of a series from one of India's greatest epics.. and in it, a queen's modesty is severely compromised. This event is a catalyst that eventually leads to one of the greatest wars mankind ever fought, with a lot of bloodshed and lives lost... But there was that queen some 5000 years ago and then there's us in the 21st century. Nursing same (similar) wounds, harboring the same pain but the only difference is, there's no one to fight our wars... I hope we can heal from our traumas, teach our kids to be better than us, have more empathy and definitely sympathize with someone who's been through things they themselves have no experience of. 

Thoughts on a Tuesday afternoon...

   How to articulate things about life that no one prepares you for... Like how does one prepare for the death of a loved one? How does one become self aware? How to get over compulsive behaviors? How to set boundaries without severing ties? How to derive self worth outside of productivity...

  These are juts things that I'm typing out, off the top of my head. But really, with months and years of observing people now... I feel like we haven't come as far as we'd like to believe. We like to go by how far we've made it in the science and technology fields, and there's no doubt we've made progress in leaps and bounds in that sphere... but as humans? In just our everyday interactions.. what are we like...

  Forget geopolitics and even what's happening on national level (that'll make for another discussion altogether) ... just looking at how we treat each other. As friends, spouses, family... heck even ourselves. What is our relationship with ourselves? Are we capable of being by oneself for extended periods (maybe a few hours, days or weeks--aside from  minimal contact with colleagues for work of course) Very simplistically, no. Because we'd drive ourselves crazy. Because we think we need social interaction to live a fruitful life. But that's my thing, see... We are sort of coming out of the pandemic phase, during which we had to keep our interactions to the minimal. So just as an example, taking the smallest unit of a family. Were we able to maintain (mostly) sane interactions with them? Now that we didn't have to deal with driving to and from office, that we didn't have to deal with that toxic colleague more than necessary, now that we had that "family" time we kept talking about like it was a pipe dream... Were we able to treat each other with respect and compassion or were we invariably irritated, frustrated and angry at them because we couldn't go out so we conveniently transferred/poured out our bitterness and annoyance on them? It is endless. The more we try to fix our external, the more we will struggle with our internal. 

  So that's my blogpost for the day. I hope to get better about writing more often but every time I make a grandiose comment about that, I promptly disappear for half a decade or so. So I'll just leave it at that. Thanks for reading :) 

Musings

Everyone's striving for it; 

Trying to get there through racing,

When all they need to realize is, 

It isn't in their pacing.  

It isn't in the outing,

It isn't in their spouse, 

It isn't in their wealth and friendships, 

What they're seeking without a doubt. 

It's in their breath, 

It's in their being, 

It's in the stillness within pauses,

It's being with the unseen. 

It's a mystery, it's a maze, 

It's a journey that's myriad,

If only it was easier.... 

But who is the author of the tirade? 

 

Our Puppy Champ

I wish I could begin with some eloquent quote about Dogs being man’s best friend or narrate a heart-warming tale of the magic a dog’s love can weave. Well. I cannot. I have a rambunctious puppy at home that has all but managed to send me to a mental asylum. He’s fun to play with, don’t get me wrong but he’s also managed to make my husband and me question our sanity and certain life decisions (such as adopting said puppy) at 4 a.m.

Let me introduce Champion Suresh Vance to you. He’s a frisky young 11 month old (the size of a calf) that thinks he’s as light as a feather when he goes and plonks on my husband’s lap. At such times, only the guttural sounds being emitted from somewhere beneath the mound of black fur indicate my husband’s continued, but laboured worldly presence. Champ is the sort of dog that takes pleasure in life’s little things. Like chasing after scurrying bunnies, (and now that autumn’s set in) he even runs after dry leaves that swirl in the wind. All this would seem adorable if he didn’t have a full fledged adult attached to him by a leash. I have to narrate one particular incident here, to demonstrate his behaviour that leaves one exasperated, and him well deserving of a thwack.

One chilly morning, when I took him for his usual early morning walk, I didn’t realise how cold it was, and that there were layers of thin ice formed on the pavement. After Champ finished his business and we were on our way back to the apartment, he spotted a couple of bunnies on the front lawn. Now, under normal circumstances, I’m fairly prepared for his manoeuvre of a lunge-tug-and-drag-startled-owner move. But not today and not on thin ice (!) To make matters worse, he jumped over a small fence to get to the bunnies faster. For anyone who’s lived in places where it drops below freezing temperatures, you probably know that water freezes easily on sodden wet wood. I didn’t. I smartly did the only thing I thought would make me rein him in- Stand with one foot on my sturdy fence and pull on his leash. Except that my sturdy fence wasn’t so much sturdy as slippery, because it had a layer of ice! And what would be my next course of action do you think? Instead of putting both feet on the ground, I went ahead and actually stood on the fence. All for a glorious 2 seconds before Champ gave one last happy leap.  Needless to say I landed face first into the nearest bush and ended up with more than just injured pride.

Champ for some reason, also has this ritual of running in circles as fast as he can, around our coffee table. He derives great joy in doing this but it results in shoes, magazines and unidentified objects flying pell-mell in the room. At such times it’s amusing to watch my otherwise reserved and sombre husband exclaim:

“Champ! Sit!” Only to have him continue to run wildly.

“Champ! Stop!” To have him to run wildly, with his tongue out gleefully.

“Champ! Heel!” To have him run wildly, with his tongue out and go skidding on our hardwood floor.

Champ’s foster mother has assured me that our dog WILL grow out of this lunatic-puppy phase and he’ll eventually stop doing things like diving for people’s crotches as soon as he meets them (much to our collective embarrassment), that he’ll stop giving unsolicited bear hugs to victims lying on the couch, and will actually listen, when we give him a command. Until then we have to put up with him being our designated alarm clock (that goes off at freaking 4 am!) our paper shredder and yet, our lovable warm ball of fur that lets us cuddle him.

Dosti :)

 If I were to ask which your favourite movie was, on friendship, I'm willing to bet that 9/10 of you will come up with names of films that either dealt with a bunch of guys who took on challenges for their country; Or went on a holiday to Spain/Goa, or a college-friendship-turned-love-story or finally, that yesteryear movie with two guys on a side car scooter. 

If you're in the 1/10 category, yes, to be fair, there have been movies about girls and their friendships, but they've more often than not, been veiled under layers of Dolce and Gabbana and Maybelline or had an underlying social message about being wronged by the male sex. Just how many movies give us a real idea of what female friendships embody? (No not lesbian, just pure strong friendship between girls.)

For the longest time, we've been fed rubbish about "Aurat hi aurat ki sabse badi dushman hai" (A woman is a woman's worst enemy) and it irks me no end when our friendships are spoken of in the past tense once a girl gets married and leaves. I know FB posts have probably gone overboard with their portrayal of everything a girl has to do for society, (men?) but my argument here is why our friendships are so underplayed and why are our equations and ties with the girls we love most expected to take the natural course of "...but that's how it is". 

One of my closest friends got married recently and as happy as I was for her, my heart ached at the thought of her moving cities to live with her husband and in-laws. Another childhood friend of mine can't make it for my wedding (Yeah, there'll be a whole other post delving into that subject) because of familial pressure due to the timing. In both cases, it took two more girl pals of mine to 1) Cry with me, on the night of the Sangeet about how we'd deal with life without our common bestie and 2) Explain that the poor friend in question is torn between her family and me and it's not fair to hold her at ransom for it.

Maybe the point of my post is to give you, my dear readers, an idea of my understanding of what long standing deep friendships between girls stand for. Or maybe (because of everything that it's portrayed to be) ... tell you what they DON'T stand for. 

They're not about sexy pillow fights on sleepovers: Yeah, sorry to shatter the illusion. We don't wear skimpy things to bed either. We're usually dressed in baggy pyjamas, loose t-shirts and all we do is binge eat. And belch.

They're not about taking duck-face selfies: Hell no. Even if we've been guilty of trying to do a pout, we fail so miserably that the next few selfies are blurred from the phone shaking so much while laughing.

They're not about excessive PDA: Except for a casual hug when we meet, girls do not blow kisses to each other. (Unless they're making fun of people who do) 

They're not about shopping: This has got to be a huge myth buster. Yes girls shop and yes they like it, but strong friendships (I don't believe) have been built on cooing about the latest discount sale at Mango. 

They're not about bonding over boys: Of course not. Just like there's a bro code, we have a woe code. Men cause us woes and we don't like getting our love lives tangled in our friendships. (Disclaimer: Cat fights over boys usually happen in movies.) 

And lastly, they're not about being politically correct: We call each other out if we're doing something exceptionally dumb, but join in the fray if it’s within the limits of acceptable stupidity. We also use expletives to address one another. None of those saccharine sweet nicknames. We reserve those for our gold fish, puppy, or boy friends'.  

So maybe our world isn't ready for full blown female friendships where the men in our lives work around our social circle (of forming cliques with our friends’ husbands') but I hope to live to a time when they do...  I'd like to end this post with one of my favourite quotes on friendship. "Nothing lasts forever. Dreams change, trends come and go, but friendships...They never go out of style."

Here's hoping every girl out there be blessed with buddies she's willing to die for because the best lesson this relationship can teach is that if you want a friend, you have to be one first.

Body-maiming

I confidently walked into one of the retail branches of a popular health and wellness store to pick my best friend up something for her birthday. She's the kind who keeps up with latest beauty regimes and is almost always fashionably well groomed, so I thought buying her a lip gloss here and a body scrub there, among other things, might make for sensible items for a gift basket.

Little did I know that on entering the store, I'd be ambushed by over enthusiastic salesgirls detailing and remedying everything in my outward appearance that was wrong.

"Ma'am why don't you try this DD cream to cover dark spots? You have some on your face"
(Ouch.)

"Ma'am this is a scrub with special crystals to remove blackheads."
(Uhh, okay. I didn't know mine were that visible...)

"Ma'am this is a skin whitening cream, it has got many good reviews"
(Your point is..?)

"Ma'am this sunscreen has an SPF of one million. Prevents darkening and makes you fair"
(But I don't want to look...)

"Ma'am this face mask helps to remove dead skin and gives you a glow"
(Oh my god, lady! I was born brown!!)

Then, they shifted gears.

"Ma'am this is herbal medicinal lip balm... For cracked lips"
(Gee thanks. Now I'll keep licking mine self consciously.)

"Ma'am are you looking for some shampoos? This is anti dandruff and hairfall"
(Are you seriously looking at my hairline?!)

I don't know what it is with marketing, these days. When I'd learnt about it briefly in college, I knew it was about enticing customers into 'wanting' to buy. Not belittling them by having these hawk eyed women swoop down on anyone who doesn't look straight out of a Vogue magazine. I understand  the concept of demand and supply in this biz, and that it is keeping pace with our looks obsessed society (I'm somewhat in the business of outward appearances myself, so I Know!) but I think there should be a limit to this (not-so) subtle form of criticism.

Then there are also women you encounter at the salon. I am of the firm belief that when you visit such places, you should feel pampered throughout, not have to brave comments like:

"Aapke baal patle hai." ("You have thin hair.")
 I've come very close to saying, "Toh kya karu? Ugaau?" Loosely translated: "So what, should I start cultivating some?"

There's also the "Aapki skin bahut oily hai, pimples bhi hain." ("You have very oily skin, and pimples too.")
Realllyyy? I've lived with them for over 2 decades and would have Never known!

And the cherry on the top (at least in my case) has got to be "Why don't you go in for a Pearl facial? It'll make you look fair.."
Make it stop! Make it stop already!

I will not understand why it is assumed that Everyone HAS to be discontented with what they look like. I'm not saying I'm supremely confident. I go through phases of feeling pretty ugly too, but it's not something I obsess over all the time. And anyway, there are far more important and justifiable things to feel under confident about (!)
On that (slightly) comforting note, I have decided that the next time I have a brush with these smart alecs who go off about every perceivable body defect of mine, I'll either arm myself with a baseball bat (Hello there, prissy glass bottles) or adopt the Zen philosophy of being relaxed and not worry about things I cannot change. Namely, skin tone, texture, open pores, scars, blackheads, white heads, stupid heads, dunderheads ...