Rambling along before Independence day…

I am being arrogant and calling myself a writer, by saying that I have been suffering a Writer’s Block and am unable to finish Blogs I start. Anyway, do bear with me…

Since I wrote last, I turned sixty. For some reason I believed that some wisdom would finally dawn on me but I really see no such thing. The last few months have been incredibly turbulent at times and my emotions have gone on a roller coaster ride. The problem though is that I bottle up these feeling and generally put my positive marketing veneer for all to view. In reality, like anything else in life, only those who know you well enough will see the veneer for what it is and ask you how you feel. Anyway, enough of self pity – it’s not an encouraged state of mind in my household.

I was telling a professional associate, over a Gin and Tonic and vegetarian lunch, in Alleppy, a few days ago, that I have been castigated for my inability to talk less. I told him that I am making an effort to do so. He scoffed at me and said, why change? You are who you are and those who like you will just have to learn to accept you as you are. He had a point and I saw the truth in it. However, I realised, that it went against my principle, that we keep learning and we try to improve ourselves, for as long as we can. So, if we have found a chink in ourselves, then, let’s correct/ repair it. So, my quest to speak less continues.

When the floor slipped under my feet

Interestingly, for a person who worries a lot, I did not panic. What was important was that all of us who felt the floor move under our feet showed an amazing degree of calmness. Eventually, when the game to reclaim our footing was afoot, I realised that the biggest problem we face, is society. What will others think? Jeez, let’s try and keep the matter under wraps. The tension of hiding is what gets to you. So what if others see what happened to you? So what if they gossip, laugh, sneer? Are they putting the food on your table? If not, don’t care an F ! I can stand anywhere and say with pride that my strongest asset is that, as of now, I do not really care about what people say, as long as my intent is right. Period.

Who really wants to hear you moan?

Honestly, even your best friend, your loving sibling and your parents really cannot help but get tired if you are hell bent on moaning about your problems every time you spoke to them or met them. Hey, of course share your worries but limit it to less than what even WhatsApp thinks is more than enough. You’ve got to find a way, your own way, to handle your issues. Go for a walk, cry in the confines of your space, shout, pray, curse, whatever – but remember, you have to find a way to cope.

Superstition

Our kids grew up in the comfort of the knowledge that neither of their parents were superstitious. We had a couple of travel related ones, like not loading and packing the car before we said our prayers and not planning on what we will do immediately as we arrive at our destination. Other than that nothing. Of course the cynical and hard core atheists among you may say that prayer is a superstition. Well, then that is the third superstition.

Then, when my business went spiraling down south, faster than the rate of the rise in fuel prices after the UP elections, I was frightened of the free fall. When I realised that I wasn’t hitting solid ground , I reached out for help from the unknown. It was amazing how things worked out so well in the early part of the experience with the unknown. You get easily wrapped into a bubble of comfort. You then get hooked. You are scared to miss anything you have been told to do. You are soon in the grip of superstition. Everything that goes right is because of the superstition working and if it went wrong, you wondered where you messed with the unknown.

This went on for a few years till – voila – the bulb lit up. I had become a slave to the Superstition. In the last few years what had to happen, happened and success and failure were on account of a lot of reasons, not superstition. I then decided, one day, to get rid of the entire superstition. I did not care. I was tired of it. No dramatic failures or success followed.

Now, I am back to what I did all my life i.e. pray and work hard. There really is no other option. Believe me. I’ve tread many paths. I am back here and things are happening just as they were and should. Failures were not because someone put a spell on you. Success was not because the spell was removed. Clear your head and do what you should. Pray, Eat, Work, Play and enjoy the company of those you love.

GPS

No, this is not what you think it is. This is what a cousin coined . It is called Grand Parents Syndrome. You must have been the target audience of more than one such GPS attack. Now, I am also an attacker. Anything my two little princesses do make me so happy that I believe I have seen the high of happiness in my life after these two creatures came to earth. It has nothing to do with their parents. It is just them. Boy, can they make you feel so good and warm all over. If at all you feel that your kids gave you a headache, remember they can also give you a high that no whiskey or dope can – the high you get when you watch their kids break out into a toothless smile or a two tooth smile. You will forgive your kids every sin they committed after experiencing GPS.

I hope what I wrote above resonated with you in some way. I have two unfinished blogs that I expect to finish soon. In the meanwhile enjoy the long weekend and instead of buying polyester flags poorly made by the Government, buy flags made by the small scale industry out of khadi cloth but more than that – be a good person and do your civic duty.