Reality

Real life

My real life is this. I am me. 33, working in an ecommerce company, a mother to a lovely happy child, a wife to a person whom I was destined to meet. With vague notions of how interesting I am. Vaguer beliefs that there are deep layers to me.

My interests are undefined. For the now its an intention to get fit. In my future - I will be a dancer, a deep medidator, a shamanistic healer, a globe traveller, a writer. In my past- I was a trainer, a yoga practitioner, a photographer. In my present - I am a worker, mother, wife and me.

There is a line that someone said recently. He said that he realized that to date, he had lived an average life. Time had come for him to challenge that for himself and be the best person he could be.

An average life .......

What makes an average life, what does not. Does making a startup into a business make a life not average, or making a difference to others count, is it fame or developing a new game? is it rearing kids? or finding the peace and chakra bases? Is it speaking on Ted? Or being a president? What is it that will state - NOW, HERE. TODAY - my life is not average?

There is a fine line between contentment with the present and an aspiration for the future. The desire to get something is what fuels the fire. Sans that there no 'pulse'  or for me a lack of purpose.

Feeling alive happens when there is a thrill, a sense of discovery, a sense of unadulterated joy.

Off late this happens - in the smaller everyday moments of life. As I dance to a song with my baby, or laugh at her antics, or play peek- a- boo - for these slivers of time - I drop being an observer to my life and jump in.

This happens when I am outdoors, in nature. I cease to be for a while mentally racing to get somewhere. The mountains tell me stillness is all right

Motherhood is feeling alive. A mellow, tranquil bursting my heart open kind of alive. Yet - as strange as it sounds - sometimes it comes with a sense of dread.

My baby will grow up, she will leap off into her future leaving me again with this feeling of hollowness. Of a life that will be stamped with average. 

and yet I don't know what is not average. 

The more I live, the more I know that if there is one thing that is a constant - its me. Sitting in the Himalayas, or by the sea coast, on my office desk or watching tv. I remain me. The external places will never change how my head thinks. My happiness isn't connected to a thank you mail, a gift or a party. It is in my reaction to these events, the level of importance that it has

So what is.

I have stared at the blinking cursor for 5 minutes, to answer that.

10 years ago, the words would have rolled off. Travelling, meeting people. making connections, learning new things, being connected to the cosmos, being silly, making memories - yada yada yada, doing more, learning more, being more - a mad bouncy ball would have shrieked in mock horror at the others mellowness

Sure. Each of those is still valid and true. And forgetfullish. I do, I get happy. I forget,
Its external. Movie plots, books, plays, recitals, - come and vanish. Vapour off. They dont even leave behind memory chunks like they were supposed too. Fading off is unacceptable.Not if that is what was to have been about staying alive

Maybe.

Memories and being in the moment are not connected.
Maybe I cant compel my consciousness to choose what to remember and what not to
Maybe I should stop worrying about making memories and focus on living the today
If it remembers good. If not then not

Reality is - That this is all bull. Reality is that me and my average life are happy. Reality changes.

A child does not delve in demarcating between imagination and reality.
At the end, we are all living someones imagination, as our reality

A speck is me

I am a speck in the cosmos.

As tiny as I feel a grain of sand is on the beach.  

The realization that I am miniscule, tiny, irrelevant is strangely liberating. It re- emphasized for me that no matter what I do, achieve  or create – the passage of time will erase it.

Everyone and everything around us is set to go. Evaporate. Disappear.  Your boss, your phone, your pet, your clothes, your travel, your memories, your experiences- all gone

Four small experiences over the course of the past weeks made this feeling of utter peace a little more truly

1.  I read an article on buzz feed that brilliantly mapped the change in scale and perspective between Earth, and our planets. Our planets ant the solar system, our solar system in the galaxy, our galaxy vs other galaxies, and a comparison of the infinite and vast galaxies overall (

2. Seeing interstellar –  without going into the depths of how the movie was, good or bad, the fact remains that it showcased how there is the infinite possibility of life, planets, stars and a whole universe out there.

3.  Travelling – Sitting by the window seat of a giant Boeing and watching all of what we call earth, fade away and being replaced by a sea of clouds. Watching how minute the trees look, how houses fade into valleys, valleys give way to mountains. A road looks like a static river. The sun shines on it all and you only gaze down on it wishing everyone there peace and love

4. Going to the Zoo- Walked into the aquarium, and as T said muma fish fish fish, I saw this

A rock ,

A fish

A rock shaped fish, a fish that can be invisible and my jaw dropped. I gazed at this being and the multitude of other creatures that lined the aquarium and the speckness factor of my life only increased

All this made me realise that there is so little of life that is carried forward. Most of the moments of my past have dissolved. I remember few of the books that I have read,  have forgotten movie plots and play themes. The one thing that sticks more is bad Bollywood songs

Life ebbs by, creates and carries on. I worried through most of it. Will I be rich? Will I find love? Will I have someone to call my mate? What is my purpose? This half living consumed me more often than not

Today, I still worry – Will I get more money? Will I be promoted? Will I get my bikini body but all this in a highly dispassionate non-involved way.

S told me I am basking in momminess, that this contentment – or lack of ambition comes from being a mom. I disagree.

It comes from being a speck

Tiny, lovely and insignificant

Sadhguru and Isha

We remember moments not days.

This was a statement, that a girl sitting next to me in class 7 wrote for me after we completed our semi final exams. I have no memory of her face or name but this phrase sat deep in my heart and head. 

One moment I remember, is a teenager me, standing by the window in my parents home. Holding a black cordless phone in my hand and talking with utmost conviction to the person at the other end of the line. Don't remember who the person on the other side was - what I do remember is saying

There has to be more to life than eating, sleeping, shitting and finding newer and novel ways of killing time..

How wise I was. There is often not a lot more to life than an endless routine of the above, where we killing time - is disguised as work, entertainment, hobbies, travelling, parenting, loving - acts that form a part and parcel of living. Acts that have consumed every once of me for the past few years. Acts that consume me everyday to date

And then sometimes, the inner me wakes up and drags me to places where there is a pause. 

Isha Ashram. Coimbatore. 

Sadhguru

A man - I can unhesitatingly call my guru

(For information on Isha this, all I can say it does not do it justice)

In September, after almost a break of five years I stepped back into the folds of Isha ashram and did the Bhava Spandana course. Tearing myself away from baby T and family was tough. Sitting alone surrounded by 80 ladies and finding the non cynical part of me even tougher. 

The course of 4 days, left an impact that is impossible to shake off. It feels like - a part of me now knows that there is something more to who I am, what I am here for. There are moments of meditation that have stayed with me. In the ashram, in the deepest zone of meditation - something happened. Something that I have not been able to absorb till now. 

I saw myself leave my body. As I write this line, I can feel my own eyes rolling in mock cynicism. Yet, I can't deny the truth of that experience. 

I felt ethereal. I felt cold - dead. I felt alive - happy

I knew at that time, that barring the close family there is very little that I truly care about

Travelling the world. the corner office, the bikini body were all things that were bullshit...and yet came back to fretting about these very same things

As the course came to an end, the teacher asked us not to cut ties. To remain connected to the space as a volunteer, as a teacher as anyone someone. She wept as she said that here is this man who is clearly a messenger, he has the gift to give to show the way and yet those who do experience his power - are happier flirting with him than being his ambassadors

That struck a cord. It made me think. What did someone have to do, to be trusted or believed in. Experience had happened. Me the person who has never been able to silence the mind even for a nano second was in 30 minutes glimpsing realities otherwise hidden. I got answers to deep buried questions. I smelt things that were not in the room.

Miracles - tiny ones, gimmicky ones happened. 

And yet, I flirt. With him, the course and the discipline of meditation

Sitting in the Himalayas, curled into myself gazing at the star spangled sky - I knew that there was so much more that remained to be discovered. I knew that a large part of me was evading asking the tougher questions. I knew that I knew and left it at that

Maybe one day the pause button will be a large massive round one, that shall have sticky glue on it.

Corporate Mummy

I am back, exiting a lovely cocoon of motherhood and being at home, I find myself sitting at a greed faced cubicle, typing on a Window (yikes) laptop and thinking of a powerful reason why I should feel guilty about writing a blog post on a Friday afternoon. Clearly I didn’t think hard enough!

There are some absolutely delightful things that comes with working in a large place. For starters it’s the power of having a routine. The having somewhere to go to, showering and dressing up and chugging along traffic – bitching about it as you go along, gives me a high.  Yea, okok, its still week 1 the novelty shall wear off soon.

However, the power of a routine makes me way more productive than before. There is structure to the day, making me do more things in the same time than previously. The routine makes me eat less, talk more and sit on my ass a lot.

Big offices come with the other hidden perks. Coffee machines, printers that are free to use, food lying to be eaten, valet services, conceiarge, insurance, pf, perks that the young 22 year old me tossed with a aaarrgghh –boring! And the 32 year old in me post working with small to mid companies cherishes. Its almost like a ticket to Disneyland. The nameless facelessness of access cards, white coffee cups, green cubicles and flavourless interactions in the bathroom leave meunfazed.

I am me.  In the jungle.  The jungle does not define me. I don’t seek to define the jungle.

Yet something’s happen to me from inside the moment I get all the goodies mentioned above. The moment I am in, there is a desire to do more. To not be a designation or a job, to also be passionate about something, join yoga, express myself, write the blog. The faceless, namelessness of work drives me to be expressive, represent, do, create, be, not just lie around.

Its interesting to observe.

Sitting in on lunch conversations with colleagues- my brain cringes at lines like – ‘as I was burning the campfire’ or chicken and darru kabhi nahi waste karte’’ – I panic.  Food, drinks and hanging around fills weekends and weekday evenings. Time flies. Years pass.  With the hecticness of work leaving you with that, full inboxes and bank accounts

I know. My 20’s are a testimony of deferred choices. In my head while in my 20’s I have backpacked, ran marathons, worked with the underprivileged, applied for UN peace corps, learnt to paint, definitely knew how to play the guitar, completed the Vipassana,  swam underwater across the pool, got the figure to die for and read every single book on the BBC best books ever list.

Reality is a tad different

Sitting here, plum in my 30’s my expectations are softer. I am less harsh on myself.  Seeking balance is enough. Being happy crucial. Chasing my own goals the target.

Where is this coming from???

Lunch conversations were with young MBA’s ready to unleash themselves on the world. Defining themselves with the roles they handled. Chasing the brand, the work, the teams, the opportunities. Hearing them talk, I wondered what was my hunger? My drivers?

For the now I sound old when I say my drivers are Balance.

Space to grow me.  Time to spend with the family.  Recognition and appreciation from work. Money.

Learning to be a cat in the rat race

an aftermath of 2 states

I admit it upfront, I like Chetan Bhagat, there is something simple about it that appeals, a common sense that is direct and lucid. 10 years ago it wasn't that common to leave the path of money and venture into being a writer. It takes guts to trod the untrod path, and belief.

Ok I saw 2 states today and was reminded of the time when I read the book and could picture the events in my mind. Walking out of the hall, someone said this is all the stuff of movies, not much of this happens in real life.

Of course it does. From the stereo types, to the loud music, the furniture less houses in one extreme part of South India to the stuffed paratha breakfasts of the north, there is a grain of truth to the cliched that get aired.

Growing up in Delhi, the land below the Deccan remained alien and unknown. South Indian food as far as I knew was vegetarian, consisted of Idli, Dosa and Vada and was best made by Sagar in Defence Colony. The days specials that were listed on the menu consisting of things like Neer Dosa, Bisse Belli Bhaat, or Puligogere were left unexplored. An assorted collection of namkeen that were sold outside the restaurant weren't bought as they just looked like coiled snakes in a bag. In short, my ignorance of the differences between each state, the food, and the intricate web of culture meeting life was zilch

Today, with seven years spent in Bangalore, there is a hidden Southie in me that has found roots. My taste buds and my mind have opened up to the world of Kerala Cusine. A coconut curry done just right, the stew with the appals, the stir fries of beef and fish, the vadas and the spice, the chats that combine the hot and the cold, the Mangaloreans buns, the Andhra chillis, the chutneys of combinations that I can't comprehend, the home made snacks that i secretly crave, tapioca chips and juice shops. A world of possibilities exists that I had not known

Watching the resilience of 2 states, my thoughts wandered back to my wedding, where 'food' the veg and the non-veg battle was a core issue. It was a marriage between 2 nations and not 2 states. A German man sought to win over a Jain family. A Jain girl, gulped as she was sausages floating in Dal.

Drinking to celebrate a wedding was a norm for the Germans
Serving drinks at a wedding taboo for the Jains
Calling less than 400 plus people was considered being miserly by the Jains
Calling more than 40 people was loud for the Germans
The total boys side fit into a mini bus, the total girls side needed more than 3 busses

In the end the wedding was a blast. The cultural issues didn't play a spoiler, and both sides played along.

Wish it was always that easy. As I type this, a dear friend is sitting going to spend over 12 hrs to drive home and meet a man she isn't interested in. Parents pressure. Parents who have spend the larger part of her 27+ years in raising her as an independent, strong willed, go getter person and are now trying hard to make the same person demure, soft and mouldable.

The pressure to make sure she is married is getting to them. If she refuses too many men, she is being choosy, if she asks too many questions she is being nosy. The arranged marriage as a system isn't flawed, its the pressure to make a choice that is.

Horoscopes, caste, clan, strange are the boundary conditions that decide who cuts it and who doesn't. Stranger still is how often somehow the pushing two people together and making them work it out seems to do the trick.

What remains unchanged in all of this - the absolute importance of being married. Its the one thing that is constant. Everyone must marry. Who, when, where, how is all secondary, marry you must.

A change is taking place though, slowly but surely. A right to say no. A right to wait for the right person. A choice is being exercised in letting go of that which does not work. The number of friends who are in their second marriages equals those who are happy in their first. Thats quite a statement

To a change, in small pockets, in small ways

Corporate tales

I am back, exiting a lovely cocoon of motherhood and being at home, I find myself sitting at a green faced cubicle, typing on a Window (yikes) laptop and thinking of a powerful reason why I should feel guilty about writing a blog post on a Friday afternoon. Clearly I didn’t think hard enough!

There are some absolutely delightful things that comes with working in a large place. For starters it’s the power of having a routine. The having somewhere to go to, showering and dressing up and chugging along traffic – bitching about it as you go along, gives me a high.  Yea, okok, its still week 1 the novelty shall wear off soon.

However, the power of a routine makes me way more productive than before. There is structure to the day, making me do more things in the same time than previously. The routine makes me eat less, talk more and sit on my ass a lot.

Big offices come with the other hidden perks. Coffee machines, printers that are free to use, food lying to be eaten, valet services, conceiarge, insurance, pf, perks that the young 22 year old me tossed with a aaarrgghh –boring! And the 32 year old in me post working with small to mid companies cherishes. Its almost like a ticket to Disneyland. The nameless facelessness of access cards, white coffee cups, green cubicles and flavourless interactions in the bathroom leave me unfazed.

I am me.  In the jungle.  The jungle does not define me. I don’t seek to define the jungle.

Yet something’s happen to me from inside the moment I get all the goodies mentioned above. The moment I am in, there is a desire to do more. To not be a designation or a job, to also be passionate about something, join yoga, express myself, write the blog. The faceless, namelessness of work drives me to be expressive, represent, do, create, be, not just lie around.

Its interesting to observe.

Sitting in on lunch conversations with colleagues- my brain cringes at lines like – ‘as I was burning the campfire’ or chicken and darru kabhi nahi waste karte’’ – I panic.  Food, drinks and hanging around fills weekends and weekday evenings. Time flies. Years pass.  With the hecticness of work leaving you with that, full inboxes and bank accounts

I know. My 20’s are a testimony of deferred choices. In my head while in my 20’s I have backpacked, ran marathons, worked with the underprivileged, applied for UN peace corps, learnt to paint, definitely knew how to play the guitar, completed the Vipassana,  swam underwater across the pool, got the figure to die for and read every single book on the BBC best books ever list.

Reality is a tad different

Sitting here, plum in my 30’s my expectations are softer. I am less harsh on myself.  Seeking balance is enough. Being happy crucial. Chasing my own goals the target.

Where is this coming from???

Lunch conversations were with young MBA’s ready to unleash themselves on the world. Defining themselves with the roles they handled. Chasing the brand, the work, the teams, the opportunities. Hearing them talk, I wondered what was my hunger? My drivers?

For the now I sound old when I say my drivers are Balance.

Space to grow me.  Time to spend with the family.  Recognition and appreciation from work. Money.

Learning to be a cat in the rat race

A little lost

After a gap of a year I met an old friend from school. Its been a rather strange friendship, one that does not lend itself to daily chats or coffee meetings but a friendship where one meets, connects somehow knows something core about the other and then orbits off into their own world only to reconnect somehow sometime later again.

Today before I write anymore I feel compelled to share a little more about her.

She for me is the gypsy horse. Wild. Free. Loyal. Determined and restless to carve her path in her own way and pace. Has always been that an explorer who lives in methods that make sense. Ok I shall demystify.

For the past few years she has been devoting time to doing the only things in life that truly matter. Learning to grow food and build houses. Prime needs of man are food and shelter and its shocking how little we often know about these. By itself both are worlds unto themselves, add to this an additional layer to make it more compelling. Make it sustainable organic agriculture and rammed earth based housing. Remove the setting from the ease of a city to the interiors of small states, where seeing a lady from the cities till the earth and work in the fields is unheard of.

ok fine, so she has made unusual choices when it comes to her work. So what? lots of people can do that.

That isn't the point. In the conversation yesterday, there was a difference to herself. She had reached something definitive in her. A space of knowingness- a space of belongineness inside. This inner zen was a mixture of several things. Her meditative practice getting more grounded, her quest to heal giving more outlets, her work finding a source of fulfilment -- No as i write this there was something far simpler far easier that there was to it

it was the charm of a person who was living inside out. peacefully.

In our afternoon chat, we didn't get a chance to dive deeply into what really was going on in the other persons life. Yet her few basic questions got me off guard. - So what do you want to do? What makes you happy? Where does the passion lie?

I gulped. I gulp even now. I know at some level or rather I feel at some level certain changes in me that have come in the last year or two. Slowly they have snuck up and made a home for themselves in me.

I need to confess that at this point in time, at a deep core level I don't know what I want from my life. I have dreams - candy floss types - you know the - one day I shall travel the world. Or the flimsier I shall do a masters to understand the human body mind and energy connect. Or say, I shall be a marathon runner. Statements that I know don't carry an inner conviction or zeal.

At some level I feel like Rip Van Winkle or Kumbhkaran, waking up from a deep sleep and feeling disoriented.

Ha how I romanticise. Its even cruder.

I think its how the last few months of 'survival mode' based living has sucked some deep level of energy out of me. For the now things that were passions or dreams have been dumped in the for later bucket. Thinking as a mom has replaced thinking as an individual. As I write I realise that this is bullshit. Circumstances don't make a person, a person maketh the circumstance. Or the whole I am responsible for what I have created line of thought comes and mocks me.

I see that line and I shut up.

Reality is that right now - what I want is some form of stability. If this comes with additional trimmings that is fine. That isn't the point of this therapeutic type of writing either. Its for me to ask what do I want? Deep down truly what are my desires. Guess its fair to state that I am no longer sure and work from there.

A few years ago there was a different urge in me to do and be plugged into more worlds. I read a larger funnel of books. I met a larger more diverse set of people. Movies were not the block busters but things that were sought out. There was a learner a creator living inside. A fearless being.

I miss that person.

At the same time its true that that younger me craved family. personal stability. home. a child. For these blessings I thank the universe everyday. It has grounded me. Rocked me and given me the warmest blanket of love to carry around.

I feel like I need to return to the inner space, finding the inner voice. a guidance to guide. Otherwise yet again in the haste to do more there shall be noisy events, hobbies, dinners and more - I shall become a person that a younger me promised to not become. A person who ebbs away.

Reading Brian Weiss these days - person after person regresses. Lives, experiences lifetimes of pain and joy. Some were the Nazi guards, some the prisoners, rich, poor, lifetimes ago or more there was always a lesson in the life we lead. Often it was something basic. learning to forgive, learning to let go. Or learning that its there is love everywhere.

Yet as I write this. I am loved. A dog is lovingly cajoling me to come for a walk, my little one is bouncing up and down on the bed next to me kissing my face. Love and…… ?

;0 To lives that always leave us wondering. Think a time to center approaches once again.

note from a younger me to me.
- in the infinite of life everything is whole and complete