Does time heal?

Time heals, they say!  Little do they know the meanderings of the nimble heart and the fickle mind. They tease and challenge one another, and they tear and scream but there are days when they leave no trace of that animosity. It is almost as if they are conniving to work in tandem. While the heart will nurse so many wounds that healing becomes impossible, the mind will keep the wounds fresh by scratching them periodically, never letting the healing process to begin.  How long is long enough to know it's time for the healing to begin? Honestly, I don’t think there’s an answer to that.

It’s funny how you never let go of the memories, of the times gone by. And everything you do is a constant reminder of the past, no matter how good, bad or ugly it had been.  The game of blame, the passing of bucks, the if onlys and what ifs, the rewinding of the memory tapes, and replaying it with a better ending each time. The scratching of the wounds never really stops, does it?

You try to think what you could have done differently, what you could have done better, and how you could have reacted - the possibilities are numerous and the outcomes are as numerous as the possibilities. Sometimes, you see endings just like the way you envisioned them to be, but mostly, the endings are the same – a reflection of the present. There are times when you hate the circumstances more than the person responsible for it and at other times you hate the person with an equal vengeance. Many a time, you hate yourself too.

It’s a cross you have to bear on your own, the burden of shattered dreams, of dark nights and darker days, of loneliness, of tears, and that feeling of futility that never seems to go away.

No, time doesn’t heal. 

The Last Parlour

“The Last Parlour”, reads the board at the entrance to the room. For someone who has never been to a real parlour all her life, it seems a paradox of sorts that a parlour should be the last place I should visit! I float alongside myself as they wheel me into the room. It feels strange that what had been a single identity a few hours ago, has split into two now. One is me, who is lying motionless on the stretcher and the other is me who is floating with myself. Did that confuse you or did you find that funny? I thought that was funny. But I never thought I was capable of saying such silly things, or laugh at my own jokes! Maybe situations such as these bring out your funny side! Again, it’s a pity I had to wait this long to bring out that side of me.

Someone, probably a ward boy, fishes out a tag that says ‘1729’ and slips it on my left toe. There are two more people accompanying us, perhaps helpers. From the stretcher that has been my bed until now, they lift and park me in the cold storage of the morgue. It amuses me to think how I, who had been Ratna, until a few hours ago, have suddenly been elevated to the status of a ‘body’, and now, I am a mere number.

The ACs in the room tells me I’m supposed to be feeling cold, but I am not. And I’m sure the ‘me’ who is lying inside that huge chest isn’t feeling cold either. That way, I have hated ACs all my life. The men are speaking to someone outside – ah, my daughter. I can tell she’s weeping, and I’m supposed to feel bad that she is upset, but I don’t. She’s waking towards the chest and one of the men pull it out. My daughter looks at my lifeless body and caresses my face. More tears run down her cheeks, and I know I should want to wipe them, but I don’t. I just look. And then, they all walk out, locking the door, leaving me alone with myself.

I want to look at myself now. It’s strange, I have never looked at myself from outside. No, I realise that that’s not entirely true, I have. I have looked at myself in the mirror before, but what I see now is different. I don’t even have to pull the chest out, I can just slide in, but look at the irony, the door to my body is closed. I cannot enter it again. How often have I wasted time trying to open shut doors not bothering about entering the one that was always open. And now try as I might, this door that was always open, is closed and funnily enough all other doors are open and I no longer care about entering them.

I look at myself and wonder if this is really me? I observe the black marks under my eyes and think of all the sleepless nights I’ve spent worrying. I realise how futile that was. I look at my ears - the golden studs are gone. Those were my favourite. How did I even think, I would be able to take them along? I look at my nose – they are wide, visible signs of a tube having fed me all these days. The upturned nose, no longer so. In the end, all it served was to feed me - food, not my ego.

The night passes quickly than I anticipate. The door opens again and this time there’s a stream of visitors. They’ve all come to see me – the me, that’s inside the chest. They look, they weep, they speak comforting words to my daughter, they tell her what a wonderful person I was. I wish they’d said that to me when I was still alive. But again, I don’t think I have said that to any person who was alive either. See? I’m being funny again. Their affection wants me to feel happy, but I can’t. I just look. I float about, looking at people, unable to feel their pain.

Again, it’s time for me to move. People shift me from the chest to the stretcher and then to a van. I float in, hovering above myself. There’s more crying. Many people leave, bidding me goodbye. Some accompany me.

We reach someplace and they shift me from the van to pyre. Moments later, I can see myself burning, but that sight doesn’t move me. Slowly, they leave, one by one. At last, my daughter leaves too. I realise that this is the farthest they can accompany me. I’m on my own now. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do next. I just watch the embers glow golden and keep watching till they turn red and finally grey. 

One of my identities is gone. I remain.

  

Express'o'...

I was speaking to a friend of many years, over 15 years to be precise. Jakes and I had worked together for 8 years and kept in touch for 7 years thereafter. After a longish conversation as always, he said, ‘Over the years, people have come, and people have gone, some stayed friends even after they were gone, but somehow, you are one person I am most comfortable conversing and being with and enjoy talking to.’  

Needless to say, I was touched.

While I was ruminating over the feeling of warmth he had left me with, I went a couple of years down memory lane.

During my last visit to Nagpur, I met my best friend’s Pavi’s father whom I hadn’t met for more than 12 years, ever since I left the city and migrated to Bangalore. I have known him from ever since I was in kindergarten; Pavi and I have grown up together. ‘You have forgotten me, Ambi uncle,’ I chided him, not having heard from him for long. To that, he smiled, and nodded his head. ‘Every morning when I pray, apart from my own family members, I pray for the well-being and happiness of 5 other people; a couple of my friends, one of Raghu’s (his son) friend, and two of Pavi’s friends. You are one of those few people who are in my prayers every day,’ he said.  

I have no words to describe how I felt. To know there is someone who keeps you in their prayers every day, is a feeling like no other, isn’t it?

A week ago, my dearest friend Aj, told me that when he was watching the movie, Dear Zindagi, there was this scene where Alia is asked to count her top five friends. And then, he told me that 'I' was in his top three. You can bet, I was deeply humbled and touched!

These three incidents brought me to the realisation that it is not very often that we let our loved ones know that we love them, be they our friends or family. While we are quick to let people know through our actions or words that we hate them or dislike them, we don’t think that love needs to be shown. What a silly notion!

This brought to mind a book I had read some time ago. Titled, ‘Tuesdays with Morrie’ by Mitch Albom, it has a scene where the old man Morrie holds a living funeral for himself. He is on his deathbed, and so he invites friends over so that he can listen to all the nice things they have to say about him. What good would it be if people said all these lovely things about him after he were dead, he reasons.  He wouldn’t be around to hear them out anyway. 

Very deep, and funnily true, don’t you think?

And that, is the reason for this post.

Imagine, if I were dead and gone and then at my funeral, Jakes were to tell my kin how he enjoyed talking to me, how would I even know? How would I be able to enjoy that feeling of being loved? And what difference would it make to my kin?

Imagine if Ambi uncle had never told me that he prayed for my well-being every day, how would I have the opportunity to be grateful for his love. Just knowing that I am in someone’s prayers, gives me immense strength during my days of despair.  

How would I ever know, if he hadn't told me, that Aj held me in such high regard? 

So, beginning today, remember to express how much someone means to you, how much you love someone, and what an amazing difference they make to your life. No one is going to be around forever, neither you nor them. Don’t deprive each other of this feeling of warmth and happiness.

Stay Loved!

The other side of the story.

As a child, Dusshera was special. Not just for the fun and food that accompanied it, but also for the “Raavana Dahan” or the burning of the effigy of the demon king Raavana at the Gandhi Maidan on Vijayadashami day. While we watched in awe, someone dressed as Lord Rama would shoot an arrow at the larger than life, ten headed effigy of the cacodemon, stuffed with crackers, and it would splutter his ten heads, setting him on fire. I remember cheering and clapping with the crowd, feeling what everyone felt- no matter how evil someone is, goodness will ultimately prevail and engulf it in the flames of righteousness.

I am no stranger to the Ramayana, I have read and re-read dozens of different versions of the epic. The approach to the narration might be different, but all of them propound the same theme - Raavana was evil, he deserved to die.

I grew up thinking that the world hates Raavana. 

But it is now that I know I wasn't entirely right. Because not all do.

There are versions quite contrary to what we have been reading all along! And here, Raavana is definitely not the evil one!

Noted 17^th century French writer and noble, Francois de La Rochefoucauld, says it best,

                           “There are heroes in evil as well as villains in good”.

We can’t really define the world in black and white, can we? There’s so much hiding amongst the grays! Perhaps, that is the thought behind the many temples dedicated to Raavana. While the whole world (or rather, most of it!) hates the demon king, there is a perceptible population in the country that worships him!

Was Raavana a Gond king?

A few hours from the place where I have spent my childhood watching Raavana being consigned to flames every year, is a tiny village called Gond. Its tribal population venerates the demon king and ascribes godly status to him. While the rest of the country revels in the celebration of Dusshera, the Gonds celebrate the ‘Raavan Mahotsav’. They call themselves descendants of Raavana–the ‘Raavanvanshis’ and have their own version of the story of Ramayana which is nowhere near to the story we have heard so far! To them, Raavana was a Gond king and Lanka does not refer to Srilanka but to a ‘hilly place’ in their local dialect, Gondi. He was apparently slain by Aryan invaders.

They say Raavana was born here!

The Bisrakh village in Greater Noida, Uttar Pradesh is believed to be the birth place of Raavana. A 5.5 feet idol of the demon stands alongside a 42 feet Shivalinga. 

They claim Raavana is their son-in-law!

There are many such temples all over the country. Ravangram in Madhya Pradesh’s Vidisha district has a temple dedicated to Raavana. Constructed somewhere between the 9^th and 14^th century, the temple has a 10 feet reclining idol of Raavana, which has been worshipped as a symbol of prosperity for over 600 years now. The demon king is regarded as the son-in-law of the village as his wife Mandodari is said to belong to this village.

And here’s where the wedding supposedly took place.

Speaking of Mandodari, there is also a village called Mandor named after her near Jodhpur, in Rajasthan, the place where she is supposed to have wed Raavana. The people of this village also worship Raavana and observe his death anniversary on Vijaydashami day, offering “pinddaan” or obeisance to the departed soul.

Here, he is regarded as a learned man.

Vijayadashami is also the day when some people in Kanpur, worship Raavana at his ‘Dashanana Raavana’ temple that opens only once a year. These people believe Raavana to be a highly learned individual who had immense knowledge of the scriptures, especially of the SamaVeda and was a great exponent of music. 

Similar sentiments echo at the Kakinada Raavana temple in Andhra Pradesh and Koteshwar Temple in Gujarat.

Are we prepared to see the other side of the story?

This Dusshera, when I look back on those times, and remember the symbolic slaying of Raavana year after year, it makes me wonder if he was indeed so evil and if he deserves to be punished thus! Especially, when there are alternative versions of the story to look into. Especially, when I look at the savagery happening in the world around me.

The brave and learned Raavana, was among Lord Shiva’s greatest devotees. On a particular day when the combined grey matter of all his heads were in resting stage, he unceremoniously kidnapped a married woman and whisked her off to his exotic land.

He regretted his decision pretty soon. For he paid for it with all his heads rolled off his proud and arrogant neck.

What a dreadful thing to do! With just one act of immorality, he drew a cloak over all the goodness that he could have stood for.

He sure did have a glad eye for Lord Rama’s wife, but no one disputes the fact that he never misbehaved with Devi Sita, neither did he force her to marry him. He waited. Waited for her to consent. It irked him that she never did consent, and he probably knew that she never would, but that didn’t turn him into a monster.

Most men these days wouldn’t have half the patience, quarter humility and one-tenth the respect for women! Where’s the respect for women these days, anyway?

The once mighty Raavana is paying for it every year since. Thousands of years later, people still find it entertaining to see his head blasted off with crackers…amidst festivities and distribution of sweets.

In the very same place as the festivities, thousands of women are being whisked off unceremoniously every day. Putting even the mighty Raavava to shame! Unabashedly displaying ten times the barbarianism, with a single head over their shoulders than Raavana managed with his ten heads together! But the modern Raavana walks tall with his proud and arrogant head still intact on his head, the wails of the outraged women notwithstanding. 

No. I don’t intend to glorify Raavana.

I just wish we could punish the Raavanas of the modern times - the “rakshasas”who are ten times guiltier, ten times more demonic, and ten times more fiendish than the original was.  If Raavana deserves to be burned every year, so do they, who defile and degrade women every day, everywhere. Don’t you think so?

What you don't know...

I happened to listen to this funny and yet hard hitting 1950s song written by Herb Magidson and sung by Doris Day.

You work and work for years and years 
You're always on the go 
You never take a minute off 
Too busy makin' dough 
Someday, you say, you'll have your fun 
When you're a millionaire 
Imagine all the fun you'll have 
In your old rockin' chair!

Yeah! That could be me, I remember thinking, imagining a wrinkled me sitting on the rocking chair, thinking of all that I didn’t do!

Why, it could be anyone of us, don’t you think? I have been infinitely putting off all chances of having fun. It has always been tomorrow, next time, sometime, not now… That’s all that I have been promising myself. And I’m sure that’s exactly what you have been doing too! Worrying about what you don't know,  and sometimes about what you do, but worrying nevertheless!

We haven’t given a thought to how that ’morrow will be…perhaps, err… like this?

You're so afraid that you will bite off 
More than you can chew 
don’t be afraid, you won't have teeth 
When you reach ninety-two. 

Next year for sure, you'll see the world,

You’ll really get around
but how far can you travel when

You’re six feet underground?

It made me laugh. It made me tap my feet, but then it also made me stop and take a moment to contemplate when she ends the song with,

Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy yourself 
it’s later than you think.

Indeed, it’s later than we think!What were we thinking!

So stop what you are doing for a minute. Stretch yourself, take a walk to the garden and smell the roses! Look at the sun glide down the horizon. Look at the flock of chirping birds fly homewards.

Take that road trip you have been planning to take for ages, and no, don’t let that important meeting get in the way. Imagine, if you are dead tomorrow, the meeting will still go on, perhaps the team will observe two minutes of silence in your honour!

Call your parents, spend time with your loved ones, and collect the memories. You don’t want to be left without memories tomorrow, do you? Nobody waits for your tomorrow, not time, and definitely not people.

We see people leaving the mortal world every day and yet we like to think that we are immortal, like we have been guaranteed an extended stay on this earth! What makes us think that we can postpone everything today and hope to do it “sometime later” when we have the time? How are we so sure that day will come? 

How can we base our entire life on what we don't know?

If the right time to do anything is there, it is now. So what are you waiting for? You know what to do, don’t you?

Enjoy yourself it's later than you think 
Enjoy yourself while you're still in the pink 
The years go by, as quickly as a wink 
Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy yourself 
it’s later than you think.

Listen to the song, I'm sure you'll enjoy it!

*************************************************************************

Written for the prompt "What you don't know" as a part of the Bar-A-Thon - a - week long blogging marathon for bloggers. If you'd like to participate, or read what other bloggers have to say, visit the BAR for more details.  

I am with #Team Crimson Rush! 

Whom do you confide in?

Sharing your problems with a friend or loved one can be pretty therapeutic.  It gives you the space to vent out your feelings, and makes you think more clearly about the problem at hand. But be careful about choosing that friend in whom you confide. I’m not saying friends are bad, but not all understand what you are going through. Not everyone knows what is right for you. 

The one with a ‘me-too’ saga-

I had sprained an ankle, and it was swollen and quite painful. Confined to the bed, I was chatting up with a friend. And the next thing he says is, ‘Come on don’t be such a wuss, you can do better than that. I had a fracture six months ago and I dealt with it so bravely.’ Yes, but you had people buzzing around you round the clock, supplying you food on the bed, carrying you to the washroom, and providing you everything that you needed. You didn’t have to bother about getting your kids ready for school, or limp around to cook, or tend to sick kids simultaneously.

There is this other friend who’ll always say, ‘Arre, yeh toh kuch bhi nahi hai (this is nothing), if you listen to my problems you’ll know how much I’m suffering.’

The point is, no two situations are comparable. Many people compare your experience with theirs and in the bargain, end up making your situation seem inadequate of eliciting strong emotions. 

The one who doles out Advice-

An advice cannot be universal. What applies to me cannot apply to someone else and what worked for me might not work for someone else.

A friend who had just had a miscarriage was told by her sister-in-law not to think about the baby. She advised her to start chanting and meditating. Yes, chanting helps. But this was not the time - maybe eventually, but not at that point. She was grieving, she needed time to first accept her loss and overcome her grief. How could you expect her to just start chanting? She needed someone to vent her anguish and share the precious memories of her pregnancy and the dreams she had for her baby.

When I was going through a difficult time with my mother-in-law, a friend advised me to go and get a job. It helped her, she said. It kept her away from her mother-in-law for the better part of the day. Great advice, maybe I’d take up a job, but not for the wrong reasons, and definitely not as an escape route. That wasn’t my medicine at that time.  Another friend told me to cut off the mother-in-law and be nasty to her. Her words? ‘Give her back nicely’. I didn’t want to do that – my m-i-l had taken care of me so many times, and she wasn’t a bad person. I’d have to be a monster to even contemplate such a thing. All I wanted to know was how to resolve the issue at hand.

But people give advice as per their own experiences. They have no idea about your background, your limitations and your way of thinking. They tell you what worked for them. But you aren’t them, are you?  

The one who barely ‘touches and goes’-

A friend Apu, once told me that whenever she’s upset, she calls upon her partner, Ani, to share her problems. Once she starts discussing her problems, Ani starts getting distracted and keeps changing the topic. After that she switches off her mobile, is not reachable or busy every time she calls her again. But when Ani is upset, Apu’s expected to lend a patient ear, give some advice and also be compassionate enough to relieve Ani from work for a few days. All take and no give, eh?

I had this, ‘if-there’s-any-problem-just-call-me-anytime’ friend, who’d do the disappearing act when I called on her more than once. She’d coax me to tell her what’s bothering me, and assure me she’d be there whenever I’d need her. But the very next time I pinged her, she’d not even bother with replying or taking my calls!

I get it, upset people are not the most interesting people to have conversations with, but you don’t expect problems to disappear immediately after some pep talk, right? Some issues persist for a long time, and if you are not up to giving your time, or lending a patient ear, don’t make false promises that you’ll be around.

The All-India-Radio-

There’s an opposite kind of friend who loves to smother me with her affection. She’ll put an arm around me, give me a warm hug, and coax me to ‘tell me everything’.  She’d be there whenever I’d ask to speak to her. She’d listen to everything I had to say. But even before I’d realise, the words would be floating all around and be the talk of gossip mills. As a result, more people would now give me their valuable advice, leaving me pretty embarrassed and feeling let down.

That one true friend-

All friends are not made equal - some empathise with you more than the others. But it doesn’t mean you should forsake the ones who don’t feel as you do. Every single friend has a different role in our lives – it’s just that you should know what kind of friends to keep away from sharing all your stuff and who are ones worth fighting for. 

If you have that one/few close friend/s who understands you, will put an arm around you when you are down, will listen to you rant and vent endlessly and sometimes just sit and watch the stars with you silently - when that’s all you want to do, count yourself lucky. Trust me, most of the times that's all that you need.

Freedom at last?

She looked at the dove she held in her hand. The white bird fluttered its wings as if begging to be freed. She had held it captive all these years; letting it go now was difficult. She had fed it lovingly every day with the choicest of grains; sometimes an occasional fruit if she was in the mood for an indulgence. But today, as she opened the cage, and held it in her hand, it still wanted to be free – this was how loyal it could be?

So much for emotions, she sighed.

She thought of all the times she had sung to it. She had even read out passages from Macbeth, enacting little bits, to keep it entertained. It would flap its wings when she'd dance and shake its head in a rhythm when she'd sing. She had shared with it, her joys and her sorrows. She'd imagined it understood everything that she'd say. It would turn round and round on its perch if she was sad, it seemed that it was sad too. It would jump from its little swing to the door of the cage and back and keep repeating it, when she was happy, and she thought that it shared in her happiness. So why did it seem so eager to fly away now? She would never know. 

But now it wanted to go and she wouldn't stop it. It was free to do its bidding. She looked at it one last time and then lifted her hand high above her head and put it out of the window, and then she unclasped her hold over the bird. It hovered outside her window for a few minutes before flying away forever. 

Somehow, it was she who finally felt free.  

60 seconds to life...

It’s a busy Friday morning. People zipping past with extra energy—it’s Friday after all!

I drive along with the traffic from the Ashoka pillar circle to the junction where it meets Hosur road. I need to take a right and an immediate left to Wilson garden. About 10% of the vehicles take that road.

Most vehicles either take a complete right turn towards Hosur or a left towards Lalbagh. There’s a small triangular fenced divider at the junction. That should ideally separate the vehicles moving in either direction so they don’t create a jam. But it doesn’t. Traffic rules are not for people.

Many people (read: rule breakers) who ride two-wheelers prefer to go around the triangular divider taking the road that leads to Lalbagh and wait for the right signal. That way when the signal turns to green, they are the first to zip past towards Hosur road.

Risky. Very risky. Not so much for the rule breakers as for people waiting in the right lane.

But today was different. Or should I say a notch higher.

A BMTC bus decides to overtake from around the divider. No one suspects the bus is heading to the right, because it stands on the left side. The signal turns green and we all take a right turn. Some vehicles including myself will take the first left and move towards Wilson garden. Unexpectedly this huge bus comes hurtling towards the right hitting an auto in the process. The auto hits a biker and the biker hits the rear of my vehicle. In the process, my vehicle is violently jerked to the right, and is almost about to fall to the ground. My leg is stuck trying to break the fall, and I can’t move because the bike has fallen on my vehicle.

The biker is in no hurry to untangle his bike from my vehicle, for he is engaged in a verbal dual with the auto driver. All this while traffic continues to flow unabated. Even as I’m screaming for the biker to lift his vehicle, a bus grazes past my head, just an inch in between. This leaves me so shocked that it takes me an hour to get over the trauma and shivering.

The appalling aspect of the whole incident is that there’s a cop manning the junction. He does nothing. He never does. He just watches lives pass by, maybe sometimes literally.

And yes, by the way, I also cross the junction where the Double road turns towards MG road. There’s a cop who sits under the flyover. People drive atrociously, breaking signals, driving when there’s red light, but he does nothing too. He just sits.

When one drives on Bangalore roads, God alone can save you.

Having your cake and eating it too...

I had been meaning to lose weight.

I had also been meaning to hit the gym.

From tomorrow.

That tomorrow never came.

I know that sounds familiar! Whether it is exercising, cleaning your closet (which by the way, would have become a must-do-immediately from the can-postpone-it-for-a-few-days thing!) or writing that book you have been meaning to, somehow, things never seem to get done! So why aren’t you able to get things done?

Is your enemy ‘Procrastination’?

“Procrastination is the bad habit of putting off until the day after tomorrow what should have been done the day before yesterday”.

~ Napoleon Hill.

Aren’t we experts in putting off everything until ‘tomorrow’, or the ‘next available free time’, or ‘the minute you can get your hands off whatever you are doing at present’? Like someone said, tomorrow is that mystical land where 99% of human productivity, motivation and achievement is stored! Of course, that time never comes! 

People procrastinate for various reasons- it could be laziness, resistance (not wanting to conform to external evaluation), lack of skill or know-how, boring stuff (yeah! How much fun can cleaning your closet be?), or lack of motivation. The main reason however continues to be fear. The fear of failing even before you begin makes you delay the task indefinitely. Perhaps, perfectionism could be a reason for the fear of failure. Another reason could be not having enough confidence on your own abilities, or setting unrealistic goals for yourself.

So here's how you can have your cake and eat it too...I mean, setting goals and sticking to them...

Get over that Laziness.

“Tomorrow is the only day in the year that appeals to a lazy man!” ~ Jimmy Lyons.

Do you have goals that don’t inspire you enough? Perhaps it is time to re-set your goals then.

Is there a health concern? Aren’t getting enough sleep, or are you overworked? Adjust your schedule, then.

Do you wish you had someone to help you out? Get help!

Find out what’s behind your laziness, and in all probability there’s a solution to it. Well, if there’s no real reason except that you are plain lazy, here’s a cheat trick- use the carrot method. Place a reward for yourself at the end of the job to be done. Get on to the job immediately and reward yourself soon after. Sometimes that is the only thing that’ll work!

Who wants to do all that Boring stuff?

Lack of interest is one reason why people don’t get things done. There’s no cure to this really. But you can add something fun to go with it, just to take the load off the boring part. Cleaning the closet is boring, so play some fun music and dance along as you put things in order. You’ll be surprised to see how quickly you can function!

Are your goals unrealistic?

“When it is obvious that the goals cannot be reached, don’t adjust the goals, adjust the action steps.” ~ Confucius

Most of the times we create unrealistic goals for ourselves and then the final target looks so far and unreachable that we put off doing it forever! Instead of telling yourself that you need to lose 20 kilos, and then convincing yourself that it is just not possible, break down your goals into smaller achievable ones.  Achieving smaller goals is easier and it automatically motivates you to get on with the next goal.

Get rid of that fear-

Fear of failure is one of the biggest reasons why we are unable to get things done. What if I fail is scarier than not doing it at all. What if my book is a failure? So let me not write it. I’d say, go ahead and do it. Do it for yourself.

There's no need to be perfect.
Perfectionism is another reason why we keep putting off things. If you keep waiting till everything is perfectly in order for you to begin, rest assured that will never happen. If you keep waiting to do things perfectly, that is not going to happen either. You will never be completely ready. There will never be uninterrupted time, or the right time. You have to realise that the right time is ‘Now’.

Have a 'don't care' attitude.
Judgement by others is also a reason why we keep postponing things infinitely. What will someone think will surely sink your chance to get anything done! Don’t wait for someone else’s approval, or fear judgement of others. I’m 50 and I want to learn salsa, but what will my family think? Will they laugh at me? And so you put it away from your thoughts. Do you really want to let others judgement keep you away from living your life?  

Trust yourself. 
Lack of confidence also leads to procrastination. Having faith on your abilities starts with having realistic goals and not overwhelming yourself. Knowing what you can handle will give you a clear idea of what you can do. Convince yourself that the main reason you decided to do something is because you know you can and you want to. Trust your skills. Or equip yourself with skills if you feel you lack something. Most importantly, don’t be afraid to fail.

Don’t forget that time runs out faster than you think. You will never ‘find’ time for anything, you will have to make it yourself. So don’t let unnecessary ideas and unfruitful thoughts cripple you. Make the best use of it and get moving.

First Impressions...

I happened to watch a reality show last night. The contestants had an option to choose their partners. They would be shown AVs of two individuals and had to make a choice of partner amongst the two, relying solely on their introductions. The first guy was a confident sounding, good looking hunk, and the other a more homely, or rather what you’d call husband material. The first lady choose the homely guy over the hunk. Then walked in a second lady and was given the option to choose between the hunk and another guy who spoke of how being a dad was his greatest achievement ever, and needless to say, the daddy got chosen by the lady. In walked the third lady, and the guy giving competition to the hunk was a man mired in controversy. And yet again, the hunk was rejected and the other guy got selected for “being honest.”  When it happened again for the fourth time and the fifth time, and it was evident that people were reluctant to choose him, the hunk was finally given a choice to choose among two women. The sad part was when neither of the women seemed happy to be his partner, but one of them had to relent because he had the right to choose!

Poor guy!

I couldn’t help but notice how slowly but steadily his self-esteem had begun to crack under that tough, confident avatar he wanted to show to the world. That made me wonder what was so unlikeable about the guy that six women rejected him in a row!!

Positive attitude v/s arrogance-

People love individuals who have a positive attitude but when that attitude borders on arrogance, it can repel people more strongly than the like poles of a bar magnet!

The hunk went on and on about his achievements and though he probably intended it to be a statement of his winning capabilities, he came across as being completely arrogant.  

God’s greatest gift to mankind-

Yea, there are people like that! People who think they are god’s greatest gift to mankind and without them the human race would almost be extinct!

This guy behaved like one of those kinds, heaping mounds of praise upon himself and listing what he would hate in his probably partner. No one likes a perfect person, because people believe there is no one who is perfect. If you are a human, you are bound to have your shortcomings. Perhaps that is why even a guy with seemingly questionable character got picked over this hunk, just because he was honest enough to admit he had his short comings!

Also, nothing puts off people more than telling them, don’t be my friend if you don’t have these qualities. It is like putting a pre-condition to a relationship. Some might feel being frank is a good thing, but again, there’s a thin line between being frank and being rude.

Confidence v/s over confidence-

Confidence can be a great quality in a person. It makes people around you appreciate you more, but when it starts hovering on the ‘over confidence’ side, it can be really damaging. Over confidence often reeks of insecurity, it more like the fake smiles people sport to hide their hurt, or the excessive talking people do when they are lying or hiding a truth.

It was no wonder then, that simple looking guys got picked up over that good looking hunk, people who didn’t seem to have achieved much got picked over this guy who had won lots of competitions, humble dads and committed boyfriends got picked over this single-and-ready to mingle guy, even guys with questionable character got picked over this seemingly perfect hunk.

I am not saying, the hunk is a bad guy. He could be one of the best. Maybe all the women made wrong choices by not choosing him. But that is price you pay for making the wrong first impression. It’s good to think highly of oneself. But if that doesn’t translate to others thinking the same about you, then you have failed miserably.

Yea, I know there could be another debate about “I don’t care what people think about me”. And that is fine if you aren’t competing. But when you stand in a competitive field, be it a reality show or a job interview or are making that all important sales call with a new customer, first impressions do matter. 

A lot.  

I met a group of virtual friends for the first time yesterday. I tried to think of what kind of first impressions people made on me. For instance, I thought of Sid who quietly went about charming his way into everyone’s heart, making everyone comfortable, seeing to it that everybody ate well, being ever so gentle and yet never over bearing. He was easily the apple of everyone’s eye! Then there was Vidya, motherly, gentle, sweet, witty and caring. She spoke less, but whenever she did, I loved her more!

First impressions do matter. They often get etched into people’s minds. How they interact with you after that, depends a lot on that first impression. And I think the key to making that awesome first impression is by being you.  Not trying to be someone you would like to be, not imitating someone else, not coming across as fake, not being arrogant or bitchy.

I wonder what kind of first impression I make on people. 

Hmm…point to ponder.  

Being Human...

Rush hour traffic.

In Bangalore.

Yep. You get the picture, right?

Auto drivers with frayed tempers. You better not get in their way. Neither too close. One tiny invisible scratch and that will probably be your worst day ever!

Two-wheeler riders squeezing through, in between vehicles, trying to get ahead, so that when the signal changes from red to green, they can be the first to take off. Never mind that you still get to meet them again…at the next signal. Not that they can get very far! But the élan with which they manage to wedge in between vehicles can put even the humble H2O molecule to shame. Give them just the tiniest of space and you’ll see.

Car drivers changing lanes even before you can spell L-A-N-E. Formula 1 drivers- take note. You have competition!

No, I’m not even mentioning the buses, the tempos and pedestrians. Let’s not even go there!

Just waiting at the traffic signal for 120 seconds seems like the most frustrating wait ever.  You can read ‘hurry up’ written boldly on every single face. And god forbid, if your vehicle fails to start as the signal turns green, you will incur the abuses of every single vehicle standing behind you. Not to mention the incessant honking. It can drive you mad. Literally!

One such rush hour. One such signal. Hundreds of vehicles.

All eyes on the digital count-down board at the signal. 20….19…18…some two wheeler riders have started their squeeze through stunt. Some vehicles idylling, raising, idylling. Some, still waiting for the final countdown. 5…4…3… now, all vehicles are ready to take off. 2..1…No, there’s no vroom. The signal turning green does not mean you can start moving. It could take time, before your vehicle finally gets a chance to move. Ah, yes, the vehicle in front has started to budge. A white Maruti Omni. Just as vehicles behind it begin to inch, it comes to a screeching halt.

Perhaps, it failed to start. But the driver’s not trying to start it again. People behind him are getting impatient. There’s precisely 40 seconds…now 36…before the signal will turn red again. The mad honking has begun. Someone’s even tapping the rear windshield. No, he doesn’t move. There’s a little gap next to Omni, but there’s a huge crater on the road and no one wants to risk driving into it. And then, one brave heart does manage to drive his Yezdi through the patch. Some more brave hearts follow. But then the Yezdi stops too. Now the people behind are really mad. The honking decibel increases and words have turned to screams.

And while everyone still waits, there’s the final countdown to the red signal... 3…2…1…and red. The ignitions go off, honking ceases, and suddenly, strangers have become minute-long friends, cursing the driver of the Omni.

Then we spot her. A heavily pregnant lady, tears in her eyes, being helped into the van, by the driver of the Yezdi and another man, probably the driver of the Omni. A collective sigh, and more rounds of talks. Did the van hit her? Is she injured? Someone points out and then all eyes are on the road, watching the trail of trauma that she has left behind.

Apparently her water’s broken, and she in severe stress. A couple of more people get off their vehicles to help. She’s safely been helped to get inside now, but she’s still weeping and being consoled by a few women telling her everything will be okay. People are back to their own vehicles, it’s time to move on. 

Those who've seen it all, tell us the story. She had been trying to cross the road, when her water broke, and she just stood midway, shocked and not knowing what to do. The Omni could have hit her if he hadn’t applied the brakes. He’s also decided to take her to a nursing home. Now you can see shame on the faces that were cursing the driver only a few minutes ago. Some people doff their imaginary hats to him, while some mumble an inaudible sorry. Some pray that the lady and her unborn be fine, while some proclaim the driver an angel. The paradigm shift that has happened in 120 seconds is unbelievable.

As the signal turns to green once again, the extra 120 minutes doesn’t seem so wasted after all. An unborn child had managed to bring out the humane side of everyone.

If not for weeks, perhaps for a few days we will all be sanely human.