Growing Up

One of the biggest forces of life is the process of aging and evolution. It is this cycle of life, from birth to death, infancy to old age and childhood to adulthood, that breathes hope into the very existence of mankind. However, despite knowing there is going to be an end to our journey on earth, we view death as an evil that is not meant to be. Well, that is something many of us, mere mortals, do.

I was talking to a close friend today, whose father is in a serious condition, as he battles a low heart rate. I have known my friend for almost ten years, since we were started our bachelor's programme, and watching her and her family navigate this turmoil seems almost personal. That is the power of close bonds and friendships, right? You grow to know someone so well, that eventually they, and everything related to them, become a part of your life and core reference group. As your lives start getting more intertwined, every conversation or bonding session starts having multiple touchpoints

I'm two months short of my 30th birthday. If you think approaching the big thirty is already giving me jitters, then you are not completely wrong. I'm thrilled about entering a new decade of life and exploring what comes with it, but what's unnerving is knowing that I have reached an age where a lot of people in my age group have started losing a parent. Now that is something which catalyses the journey of growing up for me. I believe one grows up in many respects, after experiencing the loss of a parent, especially when the loss is a premature one.

Without further analyzing the lows of turning older, I would like to look at the one big gain of growing up - wisdom. After contemplating the impact of a personal loss for quite some time, I have made peace with the knowledge that real pain does not really lie in life or death, but in suffering. Knowing that we are all destined for an end someday, as long as people get to make a peaceful departure from the worldly throes, I think I can manage to keep looking young irrespective of what age I'm at.

The Awakening

Despite the phenomenal advancement the human race makes in science and technology, we can never be immortal. Death or what happens after that is something that consumes a big part of why we hope, and the fact that we are all destined for an end is probably what makes our time, our life precious. Can you imagine being in the same body, going about the same daily chores, being surrounded with the people you know as family and friends, and basically just existing, endlessly? 

Our society has largely stigmatized death. Death is looked down upon as the inevitable evil that evicts you out of this world. Most conversations surrounding a death usually steer towards an expression of pain and loss. Many find avoiding the topic of death, or refraining from talking about a departed soul to be a good way out of validating the reality of death altogether. While one is entitled to have his/her own way to deal with death, death is real and purposeful, much beyond human imagination.

It’s been four months since I lost the most adorable pet; my best friend and my biggest champion. My “good boy” was a 13-year-old in the body of a five-year old; lively and playful till the very end of his life. To anyone who has lived with a pet, losing them can be one of the more life-shattering moments of your life.

Seeing my dog go felt like a part of me was leaving with him. It did. He knew me in a way nobody else did, so much so that every time I felt low or anxious, he fed off my emotions. Moreover, I felt responsible for him, like a parent does for a child, and the loss of a non-human baby can be just as devastating, but the powerful force that death is, one eventually learns to find lasting peace in it.

To those who may not know, I was never keen on getting home a dog, before Lucky came along. In fact, no one in my or my family’s close circle of friends had a pet until then. Before we could grasp the arrival of a five-week-old golden retriever puppy, he became the perfect riot our family of four needed. He took over our lives with insurmountable amounts of joy, craziness, love and companionship. My parents found their third child in him, who always stayed by their side like a dutiful and doting child, while my brother and I couldn’t stop being in awe of his cuteness and smartness. Calling him the pride of our family wouldn’t be an exaggeration by any means.

As years went by, Lucky’s presence in our lives became more central. He was a part of our good times and bad times, fights and celebrations, and achievements and failures. The pleasure of entering the house at the sight of his wagging tail and his favourite toy in his mouth was hard to not fall for. He lived to be surrounded by his loved ones, and, if you knew him, it would be no surprise that he could not watch anyone, especially his family, in pain. 

Cut to a little past his 13^th birthday, the “dog” whom I once cradled in my arms and nurtured with everything I had, and who, in turn, breathed hope and compassion in me all his life, was lying, blissfully unfazed by the intense sobs of his family, or by the lure of his favourite belongings. That moment marked the powerful force that death is. It gave a beautiful closure to a life that had served its purpose.

While his illness gave me time to accept what was to eventually come, it changed my perspective about death. I started looking at death as the ultimate healer, for it was the best way to channel my anxiety about having to see my dog go through extreme pain. I was finally prepared to bite the bullet and let my beloved boy go.

The life cycle of a living being is akin to that of a car. When you drive your brand new car out of the car showroom for the first time, it is normal to be extra careful and ensure that the car remains untouched by dents and scratches. You may also refrain from going very fast, to avoid messing with its system. As days pass, you may find yourself being more at ease with the car, and slowly get back to your regular driving. Over a period of time, small dents and scratches on your car may become common, leading to more acceptance with the reason of its long use. As years go by and the car’s performance starts declining, the thought of selling or giving the car away becomes a reality. There’s not much you can do, but move on trying to feel good about all the years you spent with it.

Weighty Issues

A few years ago, I chose a rigorous workout plan and almost starved myself, to lose 12 kilograms in three months. So disastrous were the repercussions of my weight loss programme that my body was depleted of several essential nutrients and vitamins, and it was only after nine months of struggle and compensation that I could feel healthy again. During the phase of recuperation, I regained all the weight I had lost and I was back to being my normal, plump self. 

Today, I feel pumped to lose some kilograms once every few weeks, or should I say months. Whether it is getting inspired by someone’s weight loss regime, learning about an exciting workout plan, or just watching the bulge around my stomach increasing, I end up making up my mind to give up chocolates (my biggest weakness) and all things fattening, until I discount a lot of the terms and conditions to make any plan more feasible for my body. After many attempts at losing weight, some successful and some, well, were just relegated to ideas, almost everything I did, apart from my walks, felt forceful. 

I recently decided to completely avoid salt in my food for an entire day in a week, which seemed more like a challenge and less like a chore, and boy, I wonder why this idea evaded me this long. With all the food being the same, I was surprised to see how my body reacted to this change. If you talk about the taste of my food, yes, there were very few compromises. The spices in my food overpowered the taste of my saltless platter, and my body hasn’t reacted better to this technique. 

As I plan to continue with this method of losing weight, I feel responsible towards people around me, especially the youth,in letting them know that every body has a different equilibrium, and it’s best to know what suits your body before you make a decision for your health. And don’t forget, less weight can never classify as a sign of good health.

To my future children

Dear child,

I have never seen you and I don't know where you live, or if you even have any form yet, but it’s 2020 in the world I exist in. I don’t know what the circumstances and the condition of the world be like when you read this, given the rapidly changing global scenario and how the coronavirus pandemic has changed things the world over, but there are a few things I would always want you to know, whether or not I’m around to remind you about them.

Here is a list of some things I would love for you to read, when you think that the world is a cold and harsh place, devoid of pure love.

- You have given me hope way before you were born. You are my constant motivation to strive to make a difference in the world, so that you don’t fall short of inspiration to do the same.

- Just so that you don’t forget how special you are, my parents, and your grandparents, already talk about what you are going to be like, and how they wish to be around to watch you grow up. For some reason, you are already a star in their eyes. Like me, I hope your life becomes enriched with their values and rootedness.

- If my actions fall short, then please hold this as a testimony to the fact that you will find your  biggest cheerleader, admirer and best friend in me.

- Strive to be well-educated over being well-qualified. While your qualification will give you knowledge and a direction to your career, your education will give you wisdom and a direction to your life.

- If, at any point in your life, you find yourself to find a purpose in your life, try and reconnect with your past and where you come from. You would be amazed to know how far you have come.

- Be your own person. Don’t let anyone convince you that you are not enough. It is better to fail while trying to find your own identity, than to ace at being someone you are not.

- As I write this, I have no idea what you are going to turn out to be, or how life treats you, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are here with a purpose. You will matter when it matters the most.

- By the time you get around to understanding why I have written this, a lot of things would have changed. I’d be much older, and I’d have matured by a few decades. If there are times when I let you down or fail to live up to your expectations, then please let it go, like how I did when you were little.

- The world will not always make sense, and it was never supposed to make sense. What really matters is that you don’t give up on your loved ones through challenging times, because, at the end of the day, when the leaves of life start falling, love and faith are the only things which will see you through.

- People talk about success and money being major life goals. Don’t buy into all that. Strive to become a good human being. Money will get you the material goods, but it is your values and the relationships you have, that truly make you rich. And about success, you are already one as long as you stay true to yourself and to those close to you.

- Growing up, my life was blessed with the presence of a special friend, my golden retriever Lucky. He continues to reserve a special place in my heart, and I’m proud that he could influence my life with his selflessness, innocence and overarching love. I hope knowing this helps you bear with my regular mentions of Lucky.                                                                                                                                                                  Lastly, I want to let you know you will always continue to be a big part of why I dream. And if ever you feel the need to be reminded about how powerful you are, then you can find my entire existence waiting to prove it to you. Until we are united, I hope you know you are meant to be with me.                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Your biggest fan,                                                                                                              Momma

   

 

 

Chickened Out

The other day, it was well past lunch hour when I got to an eatery. Apart from the fact that I hadn’t eaten momos in months, it was one of the first times I was going out to eat since the lockdown. Lord knows how I was starving for hours before I got a table inside the eatery in the middle of a work day. With roughly 20 minutes on hand, I knew the next few moments would have to be spent focusing just on my platter.

 There is something about the sauce that comes with pan-fried momos that I can never get enough of. With four momos down and six more to go, I chomped on the first portion in fewer than four minutes, only focusing on calming the raging volcano in my stomach. It was only after my stomach stopped growling did I acknowledge the taste of what I was eating.

 “I hope you have served me veg momos,” I casually asked the waiter, being assured about my order. The sweat droplets on my forehead quickly trickled down my cheeks, and under my t-shirt, when the waiter, in an equally casual tone, replied saying he had served me non-veg. The food I had just devoured was nothing but chicken momos. “What in the world…!”

I grabbed a tissue, wiped my forehead and mouth, and got up. The waiter looked perplexed not and asked if I wanted the remaining portion of food on my table packed. It wasn't until I spelled out that I had eaten non-veg for the first time in my 27 years of existence, after he took got the order wrong, that he claimed it was me who had asked for chicken momos.

In my head: How could he… gosh? What am I supposed to do now? Does he know how badly he has messed up? Eew… (Eyes closed) Was this my fault? What was the need to eat outside during this pandemic? Why I did not confirm the order before eating? No wonder the inside bit looked weird. It’s okay, stop making this such a big deal. It was an accident. But…

I took a few deep breaths and got myself to think that what had happened couldn't be changed. I reminded the waiter of the blunder her had made, and that what had happened with me was enough for any staunch vegetarian like myself to get offended. Standing at the billing counter, I asked the same waiter to pack a portion of vegetarian momos, in place of the portion I had left uneaten.

 As I was walking away with the packed momos, my eyes fell on the label that sealed the takeaway box, which bore a red mark. I quickly turned around and pointed to the “non-veg” indication, in front of the waiter. Before I could say anything, the man was ready with the same explanation he had previously offered. This time I simply asked him to pack me veg momos, without discussing the ifs and buts.

While I was headed back to my work, I couldn't help but laugh at the sequence of events. I was unsure if it was the waiter who was to blame for the double whammy, or the lack of my being proactive both the times, which led to the disaster. In any case, my heart and apologies go out to the chicken, and every other animal, that was and is made to bear the brunt of human actions in some way or the other. 

What Is Really Uncertain?

2020 has been rather uncertain. That’s overheard now, isn’t it? Be it staying home for long periods of time (I’d rather not use the word “quarantine” anymore), trying to ‘rebuild’ my life, as if someone were reassembling the blocks of a dismantled Lego house, or simply witnessing the war the entire world is collectively waging against COVID-19, holding onto the constants was one way to ensure some stability going into the “new normal”.

I, for one, love my routine and predictability, even if it seems boring at times. I returned to India in the last week of February, with a dozen plans on how to further my career, after an academic stint in London. After what I would call a glorious end to a year of living my dream, with a backpacking trip across Europe, I was back in Mumbai amidst a growing number of coronavirus cases and talks of a complete lockdown. 

Four nationwide lockdowns later, all I did was laugh out of helplessness, as I watched life unfold its plans for the world at large. At a time when nearly 7.8 billion people are riding the wave of disruption, so much so that finding employment is a challenge that looms large for many, I cannot be more grateful to be able to keep going, and find food on my plate every day. At a time when most small businesses are struggling to survive, while many have already shut up shop, letting my future plans and ambitions take a backseat is a small price to pay. While hospital beds remain filled with people fighting coronavirus with their lives, and when doctors are selflessly championing the COVID-19 “rescue operation”, the least I can do is show unwavering gratitude for my life, and pray for the well-being of humanity.

I’m yet to fully come to terms with the new normal, or even begin to anticipate how the coming months will unfold, but the one certainty that has emerged from our pool of uncertainties is that the human species is reaping the effects of its actions. I, for one, think we are deserving of the current circumstances, and I’m afraid there’s more to come, if we continue to ignore nature with the speed at which we currently are. As a species, we can do better with more ‘real’ goals. It’s time we make a choice of collectively uplifting humanity from the realms one-upmanship and become certain about peacefully co-existing with nature. 

The Stage That Is WhatsApp

                                                   

My mother was never a mobile-savvy person! If you read the previous sentence carefully, then you would have noticed the exclamatory mark tries to lend surprise/shock towards the current reality, because WhatsApp now rocks my mother’s spare time. My mother is a part of 42 group chats, and while every group has a purpose, like she says, the one that really cracks me up is titled “Only Ladies Gossip Group”. As interesting as the name sounds, the contents of the group chat are even more interesting. I would like to save more details and insights about this group for another post, with my mother’s approval, of course, but that group isn’t the only thing I find fascinating. 

I, for one, have for long found the existence of online chatting very interesting; one that tickles my idiosyncrasies. Be it the very nature of group chats, the diversity in the participants of a group, or just the activity that forms a part of any WhatsApp group, I find every aspect of this messaging platform uniquely engaging and anecdotal. As a WhatsApp user myself, and an active one at that, among the many things about WhatsApp that make me tick, I find imagining the app as a stage, a chat group as a play, and the participants as performers, to be highly indulgent and amusing. And thus, in keeping with the purpose of all the fun, random, official, not-so-official, personal, gossip and friendly WhatsApp groups, among many others, here is a shout-out to the different types of people who co-exist in the world of every WhatsApp group chat.        

1) Compulsive Spammers - These are the ones in charge of filling up all the silent moments on a group. It is upon them that the onus of sending daily forwards, good morning and good night wishes lies. What’s more interesting is that most of these “spammers” are also unofficial carriers of breaking news, sharing every other “trending story” much before the official sources can break them.

2)  Avid Responders - If there’s any one thing in life I cannot seem to understand, after why Nutella isn’t tax free, then it is understanding when a conversation can be called over. Not only do people in this category respond to a non-questioning emoji with an unjustified smiley every single time, but also I have encountered many a person effortlessly revive a conversation, days after I have thought of it to be over. And there are no extra points for guessing that these are the same people who avoid “seeing” a message for days, just to ensure there is always a purpose to reconnect. Hm….

3) Flies on the wall - I love how, despite being oblivious to everything that transpires on a group, these onlookers, who are some of the first ones to see all of the group’s activity, are the kind of audience that only give up their seats after the show is over. Let’s be honest, 60% of every group comprises “flies on the wall”.

4) In-betweeners - Striking a balance between a WhatsApp butterfly and an unapologetic hibernator, is someone who keeps every response to-the-point, and formal at best. If you feel obligated to give your reply, just because you are guilty of reading a message and you fear being shameless, or better still, if your activity or response always falls within the realm of a purpose or a situation, then look for an “in-betweener" in you.

5) Event Markers - I don't have enemies, but I have complaints. Against people who lead a group in sending obligatory birthday or anniversary messages, especially for someone who is not on the group. God bless all those large family or friendly WhatApp groups, where the closer family member(s) or friend(s) carries the onus of passing on the wishes for the absentees. And let’s not talk about changing the name and icon of the group as per occasions!

6) Copy Cats - A few days ago, I checked my phone to see 86 messages on a group, all a reaction to the news of a close contact’s demise. And a majority were exact copies of each other. Unfortunately, more drama was to unfold when someone forgot to change the name in the message. Such is life, ladies and gentleman! I’m sure the deceased would be having a good laugh over our mortal antics.

7) Lazed Linguists - Writing is either a form of self-expression or a means of interaction, but the reality may be a little different for those who make it look like a grim story of words going through mutilation, after having fallen off a roller-coaster. What else possibly explains why one “cnt tk”.

8) Emoji-only Essayists - Emojis to their loyalists are what Java is to a coder. So if you’re thinking emojis are add-ons, then think again. To those who swear by the existence of these fun-looking characters, they constitute a language which allows them to encapsulate what could be an almost-75-word message, with just six emojis. Or so my friends suggest, when they reply to my “Hello. How are you doing? I hope you’re having all the fun on this long-awaited trip to Switzerland. I have been following your Instagram stories and posts, and I must say I’m jealous seeing you two enjoying romantic dates in the Alps and exploring the hidden treasures of this country. I’m yet to believe you actually went skiing. And, I cannot wait to hear about your adventures and experiences, once you come back. Take care. I love you both,” with ❤️️🎄🎿❄️👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨🍫. On a different note, don’t you think I deserve better friends? 

As I’m scrolling to the top of the emoji list, I have noticed a WhatsApp message popping in the notification bar. Guess what, it reads “Hey, sorry I just saw your message. Anyway, what are your plans for the weekend?” I guess life before blue ticks wasn’t that bad!

Attack

Like every winter night, the cold had settled into my room before I could get even call it a day. I stood on my balcony for 15 minutes watching the lights in the landscape fade into the darkness. "The world is coming for me. All of this illusion is a trick to get the better of me. Nooo!" I shrieked in my head and rushed into my room in an unsteady gait.

My legs haplessly lifted themselves, before banging against the bed. My feet oscillated in a left-right-right-left-left-left-right pattern, as I desperately tried to get a grasp of the situation. It almost felt like my body was attempting to gravitate away from the force that kept pulling me down. Following the intense struggle, my body flat for a half-a-minute or so, as the sound of my gasps kept reverberating in the room. My hands, one tightly clutched onto the cushion my head lay on, and the other running through the sweat beads on my forehead and scalp. With one eye pushed into the cushion, my other eye, which winked more than it saw, kept trying to see if the only possibility my brain could perceive at the time had changed my anything in my surroundings.
Straight out of the door, on the right, lay a packet I was trying to reach out for. 

Although I was just a few feet away from what lay atop a table, my brain screeched and cried for help every time I convinced myself to get what I was “dreading”. 

Unstoppable

Image Credits:
Creator: Nancy Brown Credit: Getty Images

In the deep slumber of the dark                                                                                                                 A hand is curled up in one corner of the hallway.                                                                             Resting alongside four pairs of outstretched arms,                                                                                 A doorbell at dawn sets her day in motion.

A measure cup fills the pot till an inch from the brim                                                                               The gas knob is turned right in time, before the milk comes to a boil.                                           Babbling bubbles cover the rustic edges of the pail                                                                               She is sixth in queue to finish her morning business.

Hisssssss goes the pressure cooker amidst sounds of bucket splashes                                                  Four lunch boxes lay open on a granite countertop.                                                                        Moving through a passage filled with baby cries and elderly chatter                                                  She sets out on yet another long day.

Flesh is oozing on both sides of the strap secured on her shoulder                                                     Her hand clutches the bag as she paces to get on a BEST.                                                                  Just as she pulls her dupatta to wipe her sweat                                                                                Another long, tedious journey awaits her.

The back of her slip-ons rub against the rounded edges of the stairs                                                     In between hushed breaths, the view of the halting train magnifies.                                               Shoving through sweaty armpits, squeals and stares overflowing with venom                                      She manages to wrap three fingers around the partially idle grab handle.

Honks and vehicular smoke conveniently fill the air                                                                           Open manholes lengthen her walk to her work.                                                                                 Before she can catch her lost breath                                                                                             Twiddling thumbs and buzzing phones grab her attention.

Deadlines and then more deadlines; one after one more

A guise of spiritedness takes her over

She competes for time against the sun 

Little does she know that she is the ray of hope for many

Maybe calling her a multi-tasker would be too mainstream                                                                   Her being goes beyond the people she knows and the work she accomplishes

Maybe the term superwoman still limits her existence to a gender stereotype

Her strength and resilience go much further than what the world needs of her

Maybe she is nature’s hope during storm and happiness during sunshine

Maybe because she is a force that remains unstoppable 

At home

It’s been a month since I returned to India. After spending a year in London, learning the ropes of writing, exploring the English land and witnessing the multiple facets of an independence life, I was back in Mumbai to growing chaos surrounding COVID-19. Okay, I’ll be honest here, I had returned from a vacation in Europe, which also includes Italy and France, in the first week of February, and after hearing about how a certain infected traveller had passed on the virus to the people on board some aircraft, a minuscule seed of fear was planted in me. A fear that was more a result of a human reflex to danger than the mind’s ability to process information and give a calculated reaction at a time when my imagination was taking precedence over the reality.

             A lot has happened in the month that went by. For the first few days after touching down in Mumbai, I felt fairly disoriented with the ongoings. As excited and upbeat as I was about getting back to the grind, there were a few things that stared me right in the face, with the obvious one being the weather. While the getting-back-to-work-after-a-year-of-studies affairs dominated my mind space for the first two weeks, the coronavirus distress started looming larger as time progressed. For some reason, back in London, I kept longing to be dressed in a single layer of clothing when I was wrapped with the insulation of padded clothes, but that was soon to change as soon as droplets of sweat began rolling down my neck and into the hollow of my hopes. I also remember how I was going over the almost exhaustive list of to-do things I had made during my last few days in London, on my flight to Mumbai, which, for reasons I’m yet to discover, now seems to have evaporated with the vehicular fumes I witnessed once I set foot on Indian soil.

             Amidst the rapidly changing global scenario and the growing amount of uncertainty that is filling the air, especially when my countrymen face more battles than ever before, I’m unsure about how to express how I feel or to which extent I must restrain myself from expressing what I really wish to. When the extent of problems seems to be growing - the massive Indian population of 1.3 billion crore faces a threat from coronavirus, the virus of poverty looms larger than ever before, religious fanaticism has taken a wild route, one that continues to cut its teeth into the country’s well-being and social fabric, one may not wish to announce how a thought has been spared, to lead a life away from the familiarity of my homeland; a place that owns me more than I own it. A place that has nurtured my ancestral lineage, and one which will always redefine what a family feels like even when I may not be around here.

              While I put my thoughts down, I cannot help but marvel at how my mind, which was hapless and frustrated with the my personal and professional struggles, most of which arose from changing my base one more time, made a sudden leap to include thankfulness and gratitude for my current state. I truly cannot be any more precise when it comes to stating how blessed I feel to have been reunited with my family and loved ones during this time of global crisis. It is during times like this that one’s faith is most tested and you are made to sit up and appreciate the course of action that nature takes. For you and for the world that you co-exist with.