HOLD THE ROPE OF HOPE!!

I was slightly disturbed at work and didn’t want to carry it home.  All throughout my career I have never ever felt let down, I knew giving up wasn’t easy and at the same time  felt like being pushed to a corner. Was I getting emotional about my profession? I couldn’t judge my thoughts and people around me.

A claustrophobic ambiance, deadlines, challenges, opportunities, qualms, complaints…very unsupported situation! I decided to sit with a cup of green tea hoping my mood gets filled with energy. God sent angel as they say , a senior gentleman with almost 3 decades of professional experience joined me with his steaming cup of coffee. My eyes were filled and voice chocked, he glanced and knew I was disturbed.

I said nothing, he said these words ‘Stay and speak positive but expect the worst’! Sounds contradictory isn’t it?  He left the pantry with a smile and ignited my thoughts. Well, actually, there is no harm when we expect the worst and the best happens. The human mind always loves happiness, so why disturb??Coming to reality it is such a simple strategy for contentment and happiness. A challenge to keep emotion and intelligence miles away, but worth a try!

Something that I learnt today…stay calm, dream big, hold on to the rope of hope…and there is definitely light at the end of the tunnel!

Happy b'day to me!!

I am not unique,many women of my age start going through this phase( not many disclose fearing social hiccups), the joy of being to oneself is something that has to be experienced. The myth is to blame physiological changes, spend day and night and all the bucks with medics for an analysis 'Imbalance', 'Depression', blah blah!!!

Every conversation with children ends up either with cooking or sincere advise! work at office becomes tasks and challenges..a quick chat with mom or mom in law lands up in worrying...a buzz to a friend gives a hundred thoughts and finally unwinding the day with updates to hubby...ends up with physical desires or loud snoring!!! anyone really have time for me? well it is my problem because I have disorders diagnosed...

I spoke a doc friend, she said it is the age, the science taking over in  my system. Different people several interpretations about the changes in me. Wonder how quick things get noticed when the general social circle is busy looking into materialistic interests.

I hate this transition in me or have I actually fallen in love with my inner self? A very easy going and bold person , well should I say once upon a  time ! I'm getting tough within me, my emotions control me these days, I am scared of losing people in my life but I am enjoying the closeness within me, the feeling that I am not alone , a feeling of rebirth!

I have fallen in love with myself...happy birthday to me!

THE DIALECT DEPRESSION

A 6 year girl stood crying continuously asking for her mom, she was midst 40 more children in an auditorium. She knew me well and I asked her why she was crying, and in between a concert how could I spare her to leave. Least did I realize what exactly did that child want.

I couldn't see her cry anymore and let her go, she ran and hugged her mom so tight, and it was fright more than love. The sense of insecurity was high, she wasn't happy talking to me later, her eyes filled with tears spoke to me a million words when she left the auditorium with a firm good bye.

 I wondered what went wrong until I spoke to her dad; he apologized for his daughters’ behaviour. I thought that was so genuine, with much hesitance I asked him if his daughter was alright and why was she crying that hard. It was embarrassing for him to tell me but I was adamant in knowing. In simple words he said “My daughter is unable to follow English and is fluent only with the mother tongue.” I disconnected the call with a heavy heart, cursing my ignorance and sympathy for the little child.

I have noticed a common dialect problem; many children living away from their homeland do not speak their mother tongue or only speak their mother tongue. Why is it so confusing, and create complexity in others. It is believed that children can speak and understand many languages when taught at a tender age; why do we emphasize in teaching children what they don’t like, studies say 1 million children do not speak English at all.

It is widely accepted when people in Germany speak only German; France people speaking French and in Spain only Spanish!! When we relate this issue in India, there is a criticism when the educated don’t speak English; India has about 398 languages out of which only 22 are recognized by the constitution of India. The primary language of Indians is Sanskrit (संस्कृतम् saṃskṛtam) secondary being Hindi and only then English. However the language situation is completely reversed. If a foreign language like French or German or Chinese can be taught for survival abroad, then why are we so reluctant in learning our 22 official languages?

The dialect phobia is too much in the air, anxious parents are making the child go through stress in focusing on a particular language .My message to the worrying parents, show pride to your mother tongue. Reassure the child that language is only for communication and not a scorecard for survival.

Don’t let the child go through dialect depression, there is a Shakespeare or Tulsidas hidden in each one of us immaterial of the dialect we relate to!

The May Memory

My memory goes back 16 years, May 20^th 1998. Moms elder brother, my uncle had his bypass surgery on May 15^th, he was still at the hospital and 20^th May, his wedding anniversary. Mom and I planned a surprise cake for uncle and aunt. Dad, mom and I were getting ready just then moms younger brother, my uncle walked in. Mom with an exclamation said “Oh! We are waiting for you, Mala will be back in 1 hour” I wondered why should I be back and when all of us celebrating at the hospital why is this uncle staying back…anyways many questions go unanswered until you unearth the truth.

We reached the hospital; uncle was very weak but bright stood my aunt all motivated in celebrating their silver wedding anniversary. A moment after we cut the cake, mom instructed our car driver to take me home, I asked her in a low tone, what was the hurry? With much hesitation she said, “At 9.00 you will receive a phone call at home, his name is Satish. Talk to him decently( I still wonder why mom said decently!!) and fix a time to meet” I wondered what was she up to and also realized my uncle at home is waiting to watch my conversation!!

The clock was ticking fast but my heart beat was even faster, the phone rang “hello, this is Mala here, who is speaking please” the voice from the other end “Hi! My name is Satish, I am from Bangalore. I am now in Chennai officially and my mom asked me to speak to Mr. Ramaswamy, is he there?” though I was bugged he said he wants to talk to my dad I appreciated his approach. “Satish, Dad is in the hospital to visit my uncle, he will be late, and should I pass any message?” “Oh! By the way I am supposed to be seeing you sometime today, mom said a good alliance and blah blah” said Satish. I grew more curious to see him, of course didn't show any desperation!! “We can talk on the phone Satish; I am not in for this seeing alliances with relatives, food spread and then waiting for a judgment, I am a very straight forward person who believes marriage is only 2 minds that can bring many souls together” he was smiling, I could sense that “I am actually feeling uncomfortable to talk, I have never kept long conversations with anyone over the phone, can we meet this evening? May be for a coffee” said Satish…I flipped for a moment “I said yes, 5.30 pm at Savera hotel.”

Mom and dad were excited more than me that I finally agreed to see someone, mom insisted in coming along, Dad was neutral but insisted not to hurt mom. It was a deal, I told them if I like the guy at one look I will take him to the beach, or else we all have coffee together and head back home….apparently all Bangaloreans love the Chennai beach!! Our dress code to recognize was I wearing a Pink Salwar Kameez, Satish was at work so formal wear with neck tie. We reached Savera hotel lobby, with no exaggeration there were close 50 men in formal wear walking up and down. Dad and I looked at each other wondering how I am going to recognize this guy!! Suddenly someone came literally jumping the line and introduced himself as Satish! There was a conference going on in Savera and 5.30 was tea time so all the men folk were out!!

I knew it was him, the butterflies in my stomach had all flown away, I was much more relaxed and after a cup of coffee I asked Satish “how about taking a walk at the beach, could do good since it is peak summer”. My parents got the clue and left the place with much dignity. We reached the beach by 6.00 pm; we spoke, spoke and only spoke till 9.30 pm. Our driver came looking for us, and had to wind up. It was late so he had to show his face to my parents while dropping me off. It was 10.30 pm when he left home, mom got a clue it was through, and dad called my sisters to express his happiness. I asked dad if I could go until the auto stand to drop Satish, since the driver was getting late to go home.

We reached the auto stand and I asked him “ice cream?” “hmm yes” he said, we went to the ice- cream parlor and decided not to eat ice cream, instead fresh fruit juice which was next door. It was 11.00 pm and I wanted him to speak up, there was silence while we were sipping the juice. “Will you marry me Satish” I proposed, he was shocked, stunned and the juice came out from all over his face!!! Can I call you tomorrow morning at 7.00 am he said….I felt embarrassed, wasn't sure why he said that! Satish without delay said “I don’t think I can fall in love again, I've been in love since morning with just your hello…I definitely don’t want to lose you in bargain with traditional formalities, I want to inform my mom that it is YOU even before I tell you YES I will, pick up the phone at 7.00 am he said and left with a big smile"

I saw every second of the needle move in my room clock, couldn't wait for it to be 7.00 am. When I got to the living room dad was on a call with his brother in Kerala, it was only 6.15 am.  Got my coffee mug and sat down with the news paper. Only when I put coffee mug down least did I realize the time was 6.45 am. Mom walked near the phone to call my aunt at the hospital, I told her with a firm voice to keep her conversation less and I was expecting a call at 7.00 am. Mom and dad knew I was tensed and waiting for Satish’s call, but they kept calm. Mom finished her call in 2 minutes, it was 7.00 and the phone did not ring, then 7.05 I picked up the phone to check if the dial tone was ok, 7.15 the phone did not ring yet, dad put his arm around my shoulder and said , don’t worry everything will be fine. I gave up hope to be receiving a call from Satish; mom was looking more worried than ever.

The phone rang at 7.22 am…dad asked me to pick the call, I was hesitant and with a heavy heart picked up the phone. “Good morning, Satish here.”  I sounded cold, “yeah tell me” I said. “You don’t talk so cold to the guy whom you are going to marry, do you Mala” he said…it took me a minute to grab myself and understand that he actually said YES!!! Satish very honestly admitted his flaws on being late always and very typically follows the IST + 30 mins all the time!! As I say this about him….16 years he hasn't remembered this date even once! 

VACATIONS- LAW OF ACCEPT OR EXPECT

I’ve often wondered what runs through one’s mind especially the expatriates whilst travelling on their yearly vacation. The struggle of getting through air tickets, the disheartened mind of just 30 days to be with your loved ones…what is it one really looks for in a holiday or going home for a break? 

Almost 335 days of anxiety in seeing and being with loved ones, feeling the touch of home land, the fragrance of old memories all of which a 30 day holiday from the routine fulfills. In today’s cosmic world a break from routine is more required than a vacation deal. 

It is an agreeable statement that the stress levels are balanced in the Sultanate and the warmth and welcome received to any foreigner in this make shift home land is remarkable. 335 days of pampering and when one returns to home land for vacation the acceptance becomes lesser. The mind refuses to accept that it is you who is on vacation and not the world around you! 

Expectations boom during that few hours of flight journey, itineraries are made to meet with family members, loads of gifts for near and dear ones; thoughts pondering as how 30 days is enough to do all in the list…and at arrival you expect someone to pick you up to go to your home, but why? It is our home land and the place we grew, our people and this is what we have waited for. 

Acceptances are less when on vacation, family members are equally excited to see us but one has to understand they have a daily life to deal with just as we do for 335 days! It is not anyone’s fault, but we lack to understand that life moves on for everyone and our family members have related to accepting us not being a part of their day to day life…trying to reverse the situation what would our relatives do whilst on vacation to our now home land!!In fact they would feel more crippled and dependant on us to spend their vacation time more valuable…

 Expectations misleads to wrong judgment and unhappiness whereas acceptance leads to contentment and happiness. All that needs to be realized is making a pleasant vacation for the entire struggle taken is in our hands and the law of accept works positive than the law of expect! 

The message is to all the readers who are planning their next vacation!

Present Perfect!

I am a firm believer in living for today, living for now. The past hasn’t given me regrets and the future doesn't scare me so people around me say I have an “attitude”.

Well, I had to lose to learn lessons of accepting today with no regrets and plans with personal experiences. My pal, he who was my guiding light, my best friend and most hated enemy. The world said we were inseparable, immaterial of the gender conflict he and me were the inseparable buddies. Ah! Yes, inseparable until reality hit me, he was gone…dead in a tragic accident.
I was shaken, speechless and numb for several days. I had no courage to see his parents, no clue how it would be not to see him anymore. Two months since he was gone, I put a brave act and went to his house. The lonely feeling of walking on the lane killed me, the motorbike which knew all our secrets stood there with dust and dirt, his home slippers for which I always fought was in the garden. I cursed myself to have walked to his place; I rang the door bell, with a thousand voices echoing in me…he called me “friendee” and I called him “frienda”. With least hope to hear “hey freindee” I still waited at the door step. His mom opened the door; very politely she said “come in dear” and asked “coffee?” I saw him on the wall, a picture that was only left for me of my “frienda “…Uncle was busy writing post cards, I peeped in to read a thank you note to relatives and friends for their condolences messages. Aunty came with a cup of coffee; my tears remained constant but did not tremble because I sensed 2 strong souls around me. Aunty looked tired of weeping and uncle looked busier than ever. Aunty, stronger asked me, “dear has you friend borrowed any money from anyone, let us know, we need to pay back”. Uncle from the room,” my dear how is dad, I couldn’t speak to him well the other day”…I felt amazed, how can they be normal when they have lost their son who was their past present and future isn’t alive anymore.
They looked normal, behaved normal and looked hopeful of everything that was happening. I asked them with a chocking voice, how they could be so normal when their future looked nil! Uncle in a very charming voice, just like my “frienda” answered with reality…yes he is gone, no more with us but we are still alive. There is a reason for birth so is there one for death, the past of his will remain afresh with no regrets, if he had lived his future was his and not anyone else’s…the present is his thoughts with which we need to move on!

22 years now, I have moved on. My “frienda” his death had taught me to move on, to believe in today. Past is history, future is unknown, present is perfect!

The lost art of “letter-writing”

Letter writing was the only form of communication for long distances once upon a time. I still remember as a child the fantasy of writing letters to relatives who lived even 10 miles away. Saving up coins through the year to buy envelopes, writing pads, and stamps were all a completely thrilling experience. Looking through the oxford dictionary to find the exact expression, referring to Wren& Martin to be doubly sure of the contents was a self learning process.

A well handwritten letter is a visual treat and the emotions in simple writing have immense value. I ask myself is this art is fading away and was it meant only for the older generation. One of the ancient art forms has lost its recognition or should I say the older generation lost to the war to cyber.

The email letters all have binary codes which carry more of emoticons rather than emotions. There is so much of oneself and oneness in a letter writing that the cyber letter can never do. All credit goes to technology for the speedy expressions but they are carried out without any soul in it. The eagerness of self learning has reduced, thanks to auto correction of spellings and grammatical errors in emails; today’s generation love for literature (ones mother tongue) is far behind. They have no understanding about the privacy lost in emails; you can never be sure it is only for you. It is claimed that in today’s world no one has the time to sit down with a pen and a paper to hand write a letter. The connection is more via email or phone which is easier but I would still say letter writing is a wonderful way to reflect and connect.

Effective letter writing has always strengthened distant relationships; a piece of paper that has changed several lives, the emotions poured into few words is a real treasure for ages. The pleasure of opening the envelopes and reading letters over and over again and feel the love of the person who has written it only for YOU is true joy.

Are you now thinking when you last wrote a hand written letter to someone you loved…let us make attempts to revive the lost art!