Someone New...

I met someone new last week. New not just to me, but to the world. Only just a couple of weeks new. A tiny little person, a person nevertheless.

He had 10 tiny fingers and 10 tiny toes, this cute little angel-doll person. He lay at the center of a bed, covererd tenderly by the softest blanket that was probably the size of my towel. His eyes were shut and hands rolled up tightly into little fist balls. His small legs wouldn't lay straight no matter how much I tried to flatten them out. His spongy, pudgy wrists were such a contrast to my bony, hard ones.

The poor creature had his first-ever cold; his breathing was disturbed and irregular. And yet, he slept. Slept, like only a baby could.

Occasionally, he opened his eyes and we called out his name. It is probably just a strange noise to him. A noise he has not yet learnt to recognize as his own. A noise that in a few years will become his strongest identity. He smiles his mysterious smile and goes back to sleep.

I wonder what he dreams of. I wonder if he knows things that I do not. Maybe, he knows the secrets of the universe. Maybe he knows of a galaxy far, far away where dreams woven and sent to us at night. What is it that he knows that he will soon forget, just like the rest of us, when he learns to speak?

I did not wish to stop looking at him. Maybe, I thought, if I stared long enough, I could break the barrier of words and join him in his word-less realm of knowledge. Maybe I could let him teach me, if he would consent to do so, that is. How wonderful it would be, to have this little creature as a tutor, who has not yet been afflicted by the maladies of being human.

Rote Learning...

As I sit in my living room, pondering over matters, a couple of neighbourhood voices take hold of my attention.

A little boy and his aunt are sitting in their balcony where a session of torture is underway. Mode of torture: Rote Learning. Of spellings. I cringe, I cry. I am so sad for the little boy.

L-A-P: Lap, S-A-D: Sad, W-E-B: Web. This has been going on for the past one hour or so. The boy is arrested to his table and made to repeat these 'mantras' over and over again. And yet, when he is asked to spell the words again, he is stuck at what letters to use.

This session is interspersed with occasional praise, "Very Good!" when he gets something right, but mostly its the same rote learning over and over again. The aunt keeps repeating "Look at my lips when I say: LAP, Look at my lips: LAP," as though the spellings are magically revealed when the boy looks at her lips contorted into different shapes.

I suppose she thinks she is teaching him phonetically, but it just isn't working. The boy just isn't getting it. And he's just being made to repeat spellings over and over, until its etched into his memory. I'm pretty sure he has no idea yet what a "WEB" is. In fact, I can hear faint pleas from him...

Aunt: "WEB"
Boy: "Web anaa?" (Web means?)
Aunt (Louder still and with a stern glare, I imagine): "WEBBB"

I have a good mind to go give the lady a proper shaking. The boy is now protesting that he's sleepy. And I don't blame him. I'm a little drowsy myself just listening to the proceedings.

I think of ways in which this situation can be remedied. What's the easiest way to teach a child to spell "BED?" Simple. Every night you put him/her to bed, just say, "It's time for B-E-D Bed now!" Make a silly little song out of it if you can get a little more creative. Show the kid a spider web (there's no shortage of those around here) and say "That's a W-E-B Web right there!" I'm sure that should be easier than being glued to a chair, and he should be able to learn the spellings within a day or two. And extend this to all commonly found objects in day-to-day life.

Such a seemingly simple activity of learning spellings turned into nightly torture sessions of repetitive recitations.

People need to think about what they're doing. But how could we expect that out of people who have done nothing but rote learning all their lives?

Sigh!

Drunk.

This morning I experienced something that I could best define as being drunk.

I sat in a corner with my cup of milk, wanting to savor a few moments alone, before heading into the busy routines of the day.

I closed my eyes and set the cup aside, the milk being too hot. I decided to relax. I then consciously decided and started to drop all inhibitions, fears, thoughts, anxieties. I was able to loosen-up from inside. I made an effort to and did put aside my personality and simply sat doing nothing. I could feel my stresses leave me as I let go of every thought that I held so close to my mind.

What followed was intense intoxication. Unstoppable smiles and laughter. I felt light, wonderful and beautiful. In short, I was drunk.

Consciously drunk.

It was self-created. No external stimuli. Not by following any prescribed yoga practice that I usually do.

I have heard and read that it's possible, but experiencing it first hand was something else.

Of course, it only lasted about 10 minutes. Then it slowly faded away. But it's come a long way from a minute to 10. I'm sure I can get it to last longer with time.

I was able to experience that stress can really be dealt with. All by ourselves, without any external help. No medication, no counselling, no intoxicants, no stimulants. No coffee, tea or alcohol is really needed. All that is required is a conscious effort.

No matter what's happening in life, it's possible to de-stress. Something to think about.

Doing Nothing...

So it's been over six months since I went to work. This is so far the biggest break I've ever taken.

When I think about this, my mind immediately jumps to list out accomplishments. Taking stock of what I have done, could have done, should have done, and so on. Makes up lines to tell people in case they ask me what I've been up to. I've got to have something to show for all these months.

It's not like I haven't been doing anything, but even that doesn't seem enough. Just to see that time has passed seems scary. And yet, it's funny to recall that even when I was working I always felt the same way. I would always look back at the past 6 months to 1 year to list out and assess everything that I've done.

It's weird how I crave for a vacation, but when I do get the chance to do nothing at all, some strange sense of guilt creeps up in to me. Like, I could have made some constructive use of my day in which I had nothing else to do. Sounds so screwed up to me.

I have longed for the time when I could finish up all my responsibilities in a few hours and be free for the rest of the day. And now that I am in a place like that in my life, finally, I think I have to make use of these hours. Maybe I should take this opportunity to work on that list of books I've been meaning to read. Maybe I should take up painting, or sketching. Maybe I should brush up on my singing skills. Maybe I should get more fit. Or start writing a book.

And there are so many things to do like these and no matter how many I do, it never seems enough. It's not even like any of these activities are truly productive, anyway. So what if I read a book, or learned to sing or trekked up a mountain? It's not exactly helping world peace along or anything.

Whatever happened to doing nothing for no one's sake at all. Was there ever such a concept?

I wonder what it feels like to be alone, and have nothing to do at all. No books, no movies, no internet, no hobbies, no newspapers, nothing. Why is it such an uncomfortable feeling to even consider? If none of these were there, I would probably still get up and go for a walk. Go out and shop. Or jog or run. Something always has to be done.

I would like to know what it feels like to enjoy doing nothing. Simply enjoy. Being here, being alive. No guilt or any other feelings about what I should be doing next. Not just during those 15 minutes or so of meditation. But for a whole day. Just enjoy. Not what I'm doing or where I'm going, but simply enjoy the day.

I think that's my next big project :D

The Indian Marriage...

A marriage is something that I've tried long and hard to understand and make sense of, long before I even got into it.

I've gone through several phases in this process. Dreaming of being the perfect bride with my perfect prince-charming in my early teens, crushes - both serious and silly in my late teens, through dreading the very thought of committing myself to another when I finally reached the 'marriageable age,' I've been through it all.

I must say that Love has been very kind on me. Even though terrified at the thought of being married, love was not difficult to fall into. Serious Love - when it touches one's life, one cannot help but step aside and give way for it to run its course. It becomes the one and the all, and nothing else seems to matter, no fear seems big enough and all else becomes trivial.

That is, until marriage happens.

I must say here that once I got married, my fears did seem very trivial. Not because they were baseless. But because I didn't fear enough. I soon discovered that being married is not the same as being in love. It's not the same as dating. It's not the same as romance. There is very little that's romantic about a marriage. It's just a different way of life.

It's not due to a shortage of love. It's more due to the whole existence of 'ME' that is thoroughly and totally questioned. There's very little space for that 'me' in a marriage, and it's very easy to lose sight and focus of what you're doing and where you're heading when all your decisions in life now entwine the fate of another.

When you get into such a situation in your mid to late twenties, when most of your identities have been defined by you, and you have sort of 'gained' this sense of independence, it's very easy for a marriage to spell nothing short of a disaster.

And then you go and watch all those Hollywood chick-flicks and other such nonsense shows such as Oprah that specifically teach you to think of yourself, your needs, and getting what you want. Hmmm.. the first year of being married can be a rough one - even if you are not the rebellious, confrontational type. A storm of insecurities can raise havoc in your insides.

The second year of my marriage has thankfully been easier on me. It really does take a lot of time to get settled down. And the absence of kids really does help. Totally!

I can't say how or when it happened. But I'm thankful that it did. I'm happy to feel that it's okay if there is very little or even no 'ME' in this situation. I'm happy to feel that I love someone so much that I would much rather put them ahead of me. I'm happy to feel that I don't have as many expectations as I used to. And I'm glad to realize how ridiculous most of them were.

I'm happy to know that we're all just humans after all, every one makes mistakes and every one screws up. I'm happy to realize that I fell in love and married a man so I can take care of him and not the other way around. I'm happy to know that it's really better to ask for exactly what I want and get just that, instead of putting someone through the torture of just magically knowing what I need.

I think of the old Indian movies. When there was the 'sati-savitiri' type wife who would tolerate every nonsense meted out to her by her husband and yet never tolerate his insult at the hands of others. I used to think how idiotic she was.

Now I think, maybe not so much. Not when you have a reasonable, good human being for a husband anyway. No it's not that hard to be a 'sati-savitri' wife after all.

There something beautiful in putting someone ahead of yourself. There's something indescribably exciting in loving someone so much that you would put at their feet something that you hold most dearest to yourself - Your Ego. There's something extraordinarily beautiful in the Indian definition of a marriage.

There is no question of wanting out of anything, when you have the interest and well-being of another before yours.

Sure, the 'ME' still rears it's ugly head from time to time. But I now know where to look for it. I now know what to do with it.

I'm glad to know what it means to be 'happily married'. And even more glad and thankful to know what it's like when that feeling is mutual. :-)