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Thursday, 26 April 2018

The Sands of Time

We’re generally so busy in the present that we don’t really remember the minor events of the past. But sometimes, an event in the present can trigger a memory of the past, burying you in the nostalgia of how different life used to be. 

I went to this place yesterday evening. 

It was quite deserted because of the showers a few hours ago. The training had probably been canceled due to the rains. Looking at these cricket practice nets at the Malleswaram 18th cross playground, I remembered my summer evenings of 7 years ago.

Rushing from college to ferry my 8-year old son to cricket summer camp. 


Must thank my sister for clicking this with her camera
Waiting with the other mums for the 2 hours, interacting little with them, and mostly drowned in some or the other book.

Craning my neck occasionally to catch sight of my kid’s doings.

Observing how he always tried to position himself at the end of the line of kids to be trained. Wondering if he lacked confidence. Then realizing how he used all the waiting time to observe what the coach was explaining to each kid, and using it all to give his best shot when it was his turn.

No smartphone to take pictures to capture events on the spur of the moment. 😄


My return to this ground yesterday made me realize how much had changed in the intervening period.

The focus of summer vacation has changed from cricket to football.

No more ferrying. The 8-year old is now a 15-year old who travels all over Bangalore city on his own, by public transport.

I've gone to the playground only on this one day to pay the camp joining fee and talk to the coach about future plans.

My teenager (green shirt in the picture) is confidently holding his own and taking the initiative in the midst of players even senior to him.


I now have a smartphone to take pictures when I feel like it.😄

Yesterday, as I waited o
n the sidelines, I wasn't reading any book. Instead, I was thinking all these thoughts, and feeling the urge to blog about them. 

Yesterday, it suddenly struck me from deep within, that time does truly change many things - especially perspectives and behavior. 

Yesterday, I also realized that there was actually no reason for me to worry or fret over how things would turn out. This gave me hope for the future, too. It taught me to trust in the process of life, without hankering for instant answers and solutions.

Mostly, it reminded me to be grateful for the fact that these 7 years have been filled with so many blessings. 
Then......sis took this pic
                                                                                                         
                                                                                                 Now ..... we used a selfie stick

And I couldn’t help praying that 7 years hence, when this teenager is a 22-year old professional or post graduate, I will have equal, if not more, reasons to feel as content and blessed as I feel today.

Tuesday, 3 April 2018

Win-Win or Win-Lose?

This is about a young person I know and met again recently. He had been selected for a new job and was keen on joining at the earliest. But there was a hitch. An important event was coming up at his current employer’s worksite. It was around a fortnight away. 

I asked about what was going to be his contribution to the upcoming major event. He said he had a crucial role to play.

He felt uncomfortable about throwing his current employer into a tizzy by quitting now.

But he was equally (if not slightly more) worried about whether the new employer would wait for him, or employ someone else in his place.

He wanted my advice on what to do.


I asked about his current employer’s policy regarding quitting. No question of serving notice because this chap is still under probation – he just needs to inform them 24 hours before he quits.

I asked about when the new employer wanted him to join. Turns out they had left the choice completely in his hands – he could join the next day or by the end of the month. The joining letter would be given only the day he joined.

This chap said he was confused about when to join.

I asked how he felt about putting the current employer into a tight spot. Uncomfortable. But he had to look at his personal interests too, and didn’t want to pass up the new opportunity that meant good for his future career.

If this had been my dilemma, the answer would have been a no-brainer. I’d think it a mortal sin to ditch my current employer at such a crucial time. I’d take my chances on the new employer waiting for me, philosophizing that if it was meant for me, God would make it happen, but I must never do what’s unethical.

But this was not about me. 

It was about a 22 year old in today’s competitive times, with conditions different from mine. Listening to the chap, and comparing his attitude to what is often the trend among young graduates today, I mostly felt grateful that he, at least, felt uncomfortable, and was pondering over the choice.

I suggested he get in touch with his prospective employer and explain the situation, and ask them to wait till this upcoming event was over. That way, he’d also be giving them a glimpse into the kind of employee he would be with their company. Then, after the event, he could call them once again to confirm if the job offer still stood. If it didn’t – accept it, and continue at the same place without breathing a word of it, waiting for the next opportunity. If it did - hurray, give in the 24 hour notice to his current employer, and join the new company.

This, of course, was my analysis of the situation.

I don’t know if the chap is going to do as I suggested or disregard it and do as he pleases.

But I’d like to know what you – the one reading this – think. Was I correct? Was I wrong? Is there a better way out? Do share your thoughts…who knows, perhaps there will be some valuable piece of advice I can pass on to the chap?

Thursday, 8 March 2018

What's in a Day?

The paper in her hand trembles, matching the tremor in her voice. Neither deters her from singing a hymn to Lord Ganesha in her ringing voice....



For just a little while, the burden of their loneliness is lifted by the chatter of a child who hugs and talks to them like the grandchild they don't get to see....

Stoic minds in fragile bodies and yet, they enthusiastically shuffle to a yesteryear hit.....



It matters not to them what today's special occasion is. What does matter is that in the name of celebrating this day, volunteers from Youth For Seva have chosen to spend a few hours talking, laughing, singing and dancing with them.....



#Women's Day celebrations at Ashraya Seva Trust

As for me, I'm just happy I could be there to see the joy on their faces .....

Friday, 16 February 2018

Journey of a Girl to a Woman

A few days after my November blogathon, a WhatsApp message popped up from an unknown number. A lady introduced herself as Dheepak Narasimhan's cousin's wife and said that inspired by what he had written for my blog, she too wanted to share something. 

Intrigued, I asked her to send it across, and she promptly did so. It turned out to be an amazing account of, as she titled it herself, the journey of a girl to a woman. In today's times, when we find relationships heading for a split at the tiniest disagreement, it is worth pondering over and adopting what Gayathri Srivathsan spells out as her life lessons....

I was a very normal girl with lots of dreams and ambitions, from a pakka middle class family traditional in outlook but modern in their thoughts. Life started changing for me when I began working part time in the evening during my college days. I was a HR trainee in a hospital and those years helped me gain a lot of experience.

After college, I got an IT job and life was happier. I was supporting my parents and was doing well professionally too. But all this was short lived… one day, while returning home from work at midnight, my cab met with an accident and I got a spinal fracture. When I finally recovered, I couldn't sit for more than an hour and so, had to resign my job. I took a break and was checking higher studies options.

At this time, a matrimonial alliance came from a close family friend of almost two generations. My family was enthusiastic, but with a lot of hesitation, I said ok because a thousand questions were ringing in my mind, with the predominant one being, “I m only 21, if I get married now what about my ambitions, my career?”

We had a chat on Facebook before meeting each other. He says he was sure I would be his wife - maybe he had some strong intuitions. For me, he was good and nice and fit my category of being tall (silly, right?) but there was one other thing that made me love him. My husband was working in IT Industry in Chennai then and making a huge amount of money but later, cleared the bank exams and now we live in a village called Ariyakudi near Karaikudi and he earns very less, but he wanted to take care of his parents and not leave them alone ....

I made the move from Chennai to an agrahaaram where people are more conservative but also genuine and trustworthy. I began working as a teacher but had to leave the job when I got pregnant. That happiness was short lived and we lost the child and that was the biggest nightmare. Through all of this, my husband was my pillar of support along with both my families...Everytime I felt hurt by what people said, he helped me discriminate between good and bad, just like one teaches a child.

When I conceived again, I came to Chennai because the medical facilities in Ariyakudi were minimal. We were away from each other, and my pregnancy hormones were taking a toll on me. My mom-in-law was the very serious kind and so, talking to my husband for even a few minutes was a very tough job. Things started getting so bad and I was so frustrated that I even thought of separating from my husband.

That was when we sat down together and spoke and I understood that breaking a relationship was not a solution. We started to change ourselves in small ways. Since then, we are really a happy family. I live with my in-laws under the same roof. We fight, we have misunderstandings but we can't stay without each other. It's wonderful to be in a joint family.

My father in law is such a wonderful and the most affectionate person I have ever seen. He starts crying if I have pain. It’s been two years since my mom in law passed away and there’s this huge vacuum because she was truly another mother to me.

Athai (my father in law’s sister) who lives with us is one strong woman and I want to be as determined as her. She guides me about how to do things right.

My husband has been there always for me, and I’ll be there for him no matter what. Rithvik, my son, our bundle of joy and happiness, is teaching us to be more responsible and enjoy life.




Finally my mom, dad, sis and brother – whatever I am today is because of them. They are my rocks with their teachings and guidance.

To all couples who say, “We never have fights,” please understand that there is nothing wrong in a fight or having a misunderstanding provided you use it to understand the other person better . It's not a big deal to hold your hands while walking a path of roses but if you can survive a storm without letting go of each other, then your relationship is worth it.

Adjusting to something or someone doesn't really mean you are losing; instead, you’re gaining a lot of things. Marriage or a kid can never stop you from achieving things if you really have the determination and will power.

If we like a person, even the bad things they do look good to us. At the same time, when we don't like a person, even the genuine things they do sound wrong. Let us stop being judgmental and our lives will improve. Nobody is perfect. Look at people beyond their imperfections and just see how happy your life turns.

Seriously, my life turned upside down after I realized these truths.

Life is how you perceive – it is like a mirror. You show happiness and it gives you back the same and vice versa. So enjoy life and have fun!

Regards
Gayathri Srivathsan







Friday, 9 February 2018

Face your fear to overcome it

At the end of my November blogathon, I intended to continue sharing the stories of real-life heroes who had written to me about their life experiences. However, there were other things that took precedence and so, I had put this feature on hold.

Here’s one such story from my husband’s cousin Hema Venkatesh. Before I share what she wrote to me, a small glossary for those who don’t get Tamil

Manni : Sister-in-law…brother’s wife
Akka: Elder sister
Kannu: Term of endearment..like say “dear” in English
Chithi: Aunt … in this case, father’s younger brother’s wife
Anna: Elder brother

Over to Hema....

Hello, Manni...

I am going to describe about a decision which changed my life. I studied in Tamil medium till my 12th standard. I and my twin sister Usha had decided to study B.com., but my twin sister wanted to continue in Tamil medium. I was a little bit confused whether to change medium or not. If I changed, maybe my percentage would become low. After my 12th standard, I got a job because I took Secretarial group as my course in 12th standard.

A day before my 12th standard result, Geetha Akka, my cousin who lives in Bangalore, came to Salem and told me to take B.com. in English medium. She also told me, “No matter how much you score in your degree, you will get knowledge. And I am sure you will get marks, Kannu. If, for some reason, you don’t get this time, next time you will surely get.”

That became my inspiration and I took B.Com. English medium.

Geetha Akka also told me that when she was in 10th standard, my father had told her to take English medium. So, she was giving same advice now to me. I am proud to say my father became her inspiration and Geetha Akka became my inspiration....

And to the astonishment of all, I passed B.Com. in my first attempt itself with 78%. Some days later, Indrani Chithi and Suresh Anna came to Salem. That time Suresh Anna very proudly said to me, "Great, Hema....you took English medium confidently and along with your job, you also passed B.com ... Really great!" Geetha Akka had also accompanied them and she told me, “Superb Hema! You overcame your inferiority and scored very good marks.”

I was really happy that day. I considered this as my achievement and I was very glad that I had overcome my inferiority complex. From that day till now I have never felt low about myself. Thanks to Geetha Akka, I learned this important lesson that is still helping in my life.


Now, Hema is a dynamic, go-getter who dabbles in many things. She is a great networker, the admin of our family WhatsApp group (and around 7 other groups, too I believe), plays matchmaker for the young men and women of marriageable age in the family, is the life of any family get-together and also finds time to spend on creating beautiful Tanjore paintings and writing Tamil poetry and participating in her area temple activities regularly.


This story that she has shared reveals the secret behind her chutzpah.

If you understand the spirit in which she’s written this, you will realize that it’s not about the fact that she succeeded in English medium…rather, it’s the attitude of accepting advice, taking challenges head-on and persevering for long enough to win over her fears.

Even as I prepared to post this on the blog, I felt, yet again, a sense of immense gratitude, to have been parachuted (by marriage) into a family like this where the members stand by each other, with love and affection, always encouraging and helping each other …

Saturday, 3 February 2018

When age is more than a number....

I’m a little apprehensive. I’ve never done this before. Will I be able to say the right things? Will we be able to connect or wait in unspoken misery for the hour to be up?

15 elderly women in front of me. Curious? Impassive?

I begin tentatively, “Namaskaraa.” They chorus the same back. Good. I continue, telling them my name, and how I’ve come there through the organization called Youth for Seva. I ask them to tell me their names, and anything else they want to share.

They begin, saying their names. When I say, “What else,” they say, “Nothing.” Have I blown it, I wonder.

“Tell me your age and where you’re from,” I say.

Some of them do. Suddenly, I wonder if it will be hurtful asking them that question, and consult the warden. She’s surprisingly ambiguous, saying she doesn’t know….later, I realize the reason – she’s relatively new to them, too…

Next I ask about their daily routine. Some go for a walk, everyone does some little exercise, some read, some recite stotras, a lot of time is spent lying down because of weak backs that have given up after years of serving husbands and kids…..an unspoken sentiment hovers in the air, but I tiptoe around it because I don’t want to bring up hurt so early into the interaction.

At my urging, one lady sings. “Allah tero naam, Ishwar tero naam.” Then they say the warden sings well, and she obliges with a song on Lord Manjunatha. Someone reminisces and remembers it’s from a movie, and was sung by Pandhri Bai. They don’t make songs like them anymore, the women sigh. Another woman and her friend sing “Krishna nee beganey baaro…”

We talk of many things – how gadgets have made life easier for women today, how they struggled in their times with large joint families and having to do all housework manually, how they didn’t get much of an education, how it’s good that girls are getting more educated today, but also, getting more difficult to please and unwilling to adjust………..

On the verge of tears, one lady makes a comment about how they’re now just waiting for their time on earth to come to an end without causing trouble to anyone…..

Now they want me to sing. I sing a bhajan, and get them to repeat after me. They tell me it’s taught by their yoga teacher too, who hadn’t come today….one lady says it’s good they didn’t miss it.

One lady asks me questions about my family. Her neighbor tries to hush her up, but I say it’s ok…and satisfy her curiosity…

In the middle, we’re joined by a young girl who cooks for everyone, and a staff member who takes care of everyone’s needs. Their camaraderie is quite obvious.

The one hour I promised is almost up. I ask them what we should do for next time. They say, “You’re the one who knows more than us. You decide.” I say, “No…this time is for YOU, so tell me what YOU would like to do.”

Finally, we agree that each one of them will present something – jokes, or songs, or bhajans, or a story. The discussion veers to what story, and I ask oh-so-gently, if they would like to share their life story. NO!! comes the strong, almost unanimous response. We find that thinking back to it makes us hurt, they explain. We struggle to try not to think of it…so…NO!! Sounds fair to me….

To pull them away from that emotion, I talk of cooking, and how they must have done a lot of cooking. They nod happily. So I ask if next time, all of them would be willing to share their recipes for the dish they cooked best. YES!! They chorus…

Once again, we go over the ‘Homework’ they have to do. Then, all too soon, it’s time for me to say goodbye. With a promise to come again after 15 days, I turn to leave. The warden smiles at me and says, “Thank you so much, Madam. See, they’re so happy now…in this one hour, they’ve been engrossed in something outside of their routine and their pain…..”

I almost tell her I’ll come in a week itself, but sanity prevails….my time is not yet entirely my own…I have other commitments to fulfill, too….

As I walk to my home from Aashraya Old Age Home, I’m filled with a bitter-sweet emotion I can’t really describe…

Saturday, 20 January 2018

Kalinga Diaries – Part XI: The Last Leg

It’s the 31st of December. Our last day in Odisha. The last minute sightseeing is to the Udayagiri and Khandagiri caves which are close to where we’re staying. The two are on opposite sides of a road. When we arrive at the entrance, we notice there are steps to be climbed to the Khandagiri side, where there’s a temple looming in the distance. The Udayagiri side is more of a free walk zone, so we choose to go there first, paying the Rs.5/- per head entry fee.

Turns out to be the right decision, for the Udayagiri caves are about 2200 years old, and showcase the rock-cut shelters of Jain monks whereas the Khandagiri caves (where entry is free) is more of a cluster of human-built temples, with fewer natural caves.


Most of the cells have very little head space and are austere; but some of them have intricate carvings on the outer walls. 
Cave with 2 elephants at the entrance

Bagh Gumpha - tiger-face shaped 


No worries...I got this!

 We traipse around the place for about an hour or so. Of course, as my brother-in-law had mentioned, the caves are not an architectural marvel and pale in comparison to the grandeur of the Ajanta Ellora caves. But they serve to give a glimpse into the lives of Jain ascetics in those ages.

Because we’re short of time, we skip going up the Khandagiri side and instead, move to the Tribal museum that comes highly recommended.
Odia tribal art - looks very similar to Worli paintings of Maharashtra
Photography isn’t allowed inside the museum; so I have no pictures to show you the painstaking level of detail and effort that has gone to depict tribal lifestyles. Different tribes, their clothing, ornaments, musical instruments, weapons and art forms have been displayed in different rooms spaced around a central courtyard. In each of the rooms, there’s a touch-screen information system that gives an audiovisual experience of all that’s displayed in the room. The courtyard itself has replicas of the different deities worshipped by the different tribes.

Outside, there’s an area where replicas of the huts of these tribes have been created, complete with appliances, shrines etc to give a feel of how the tribals live.
Huts of one tribe
Huts of another tribe












We look around the souvenir shop and by now, hubby and son are ready to leave, but I’ve noticed there’s a board saying “Herbal Garden” and my professional instincts perk up…I want to take a look at what herbs they’re growing, so I walk to the garden alone. There sure are a lot of herbs, but unfortunately, there are no name boards or labels.

Somehow, despite all the planning, it’s still a rush at the end. To know the value of 5 minutes, you must sit in a restaurant that has quick service, drumming your fingers and gawking at every server who exits the kitchen door, to see if you can spot the thali you ordered because you thought that would arrive fastest.

After a quick drive through the light traffic on Bhubaneshwar’s streets, and handing over a small parting gift to A, who again almost sweeps the ground bowing goodbye to us, we walk into the airport to see that it’s been transformed. The sleepy place we saw when we arrived now resembles a bustling hub with hundreds of travellers. But there’s one thing that still reveals the small town-feel: many groups of people have thronged to see off their loved ones – a sight that is not so common now in bigger cities.

Even as I’m beginning to relax at the smooth departure, hubby provides the mandatory last minute panic – he’s forgotten to pick up his wallet and mobile from the tray at the security check…!!
Bidding goodbye to Kalinga Desha....

An uneventful flight to Chennai, and we land by 4.20 pm and because there’s a stopover of 5 hours, the plan is to visit Marina beach and Parthasarathy temple to round off the trip. This turns out to be the most adrenaline-filled part of the trip –

A small holdup in the airport, a dash to the Tirusulam station….

Rushing to “Beach” station by electric train only to find that to go to the actual beach, you need to get off at Central station ...2 or 3 stops before...

An auto driver who drops us off outside the Anna Memorial that’s away from the beach and running around saying “where’s the water?” like nomads in the desert ...

Rushing into what we later realize is a no entry area and a small run-in with Chennai police after doing this…then bluffing our way out thanks to the skills of hubby’s years in marketing ...

Walking 15 minutes in the sand to finally reach the water that’s so ferocious that no one’s venturing too far into it……


Saying a mental “sorry” to Lord Parthasarathy for not dropping in….

Crossing platforms not by the over-bridge but over the tracks…..

Finally, we’re at the airport, as usual, just in time. Just 45 minutes after taking off, we’re already landing at Bengaluru.

The drive home takes longer to complete than the flight from Chennai because of a long-drawn quarrel by the staff at the toll plaza and the fact that parts of the flyover have been blocked, apparently to prevent drunken youth from speeding on them in the “New Year” frenzy….

Sleep doesn’t come easy on half-filled stomachs; so I rustle up something at 11.45 pm and finally, even as youngsters go screaming around on their bikes, we fall into deep sleep, filled with a quiet joy, closing the pages on the Kalinga diaries.

A well-wisher had expressed her blessings a few days before, saying, “Next time, you plan a trip to Singapore.” I appreciate the sentiment and maybe God-willing I will go there, too. Left to myself, though, I’d rather spend the remaining travels discovering and experiencing all that this divine land we call Bharat Mata, has to offer.

Thanks to the merits from previous births, I’ve been born here in this janma….who knows where the next birth will be? While I’m here, let me try and gain as much saatvikata as possible from this punya bhumi…..