Out of the blue

Image source: dreamstime.com

A childhood memory recently came to my mind. As a kid, I used to be scared of jumping into the big swimming pool. Even at the shallow end. Granted, I was small, but I could easily stand in the shallow side. What’s more, even the pool tiles were clearly visible from the top! Yet the idea of leaping in was something I refused to embrace for the longest time.

My friends would coerce me, plunging repeatedly into the water for my benefit, apparently assuming that what was holding me back was the absence of daily live demonstrations on ‘how to jump’. But the most I dared to do was tip-toe to the very edge, stare at the water blankly and swat away the mosquitoes, until I shivered from the cold and gingerly climbed back into the pool using the built-in stairs. It’s a wonder how much I could overthink even at that age.

And then one summer evening, I simply jumped. Taken aback, I did it again. And then some. I still remember being incredulous that I’d been so wary of this absurdly simple action. With time, I found myself jumping from the high diving board at the deep end of the pool.

Saying I enjoyed it would be a grave understatement. It commenced with me impatiently filling the lungs with air and running the length of the board for no other reason but to amp up the excitement. Then springing off it and having the rejuvenating, chlorine-scented wind wash over my face. Finally, plummeting into the welcoming, dark-blue water, touching the tiles with the toes for a weird sense of satisfaction, pushing upwards and bobbing up again, ready for another go. I was so delighted by it that I spent most of my swimming time simply jumping into the pool for pleasure.

All this is not to say that I went on to become a swimming athlete. Far from it. I can swim in freestyle, gracefulness drifting away from me with every uncoordinated stroke of the limbs, but that’s about it. This is about the incident itself, which on it’s own is trivial, but I think a valuable lesson can be filtered out of it. It made me realize how I’d held myself back from a thoroughly enjoyable experience because of irrational fear. Now an adult, I wonder how often I still do this, immersing in self-doubt and denying myself the opportunity to try something new.

Sometimes, it’s worth swallowing the fear and diving into the unknown. If only to find an answer to pop those bubbles of ‘what-ifs’ floating inside the head aimlessly and taking up space. It is scary, but as William Faulkner put it, “You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore”. I can take all the precautions I want; wear a cap to cover the head, and goggles to see clearly, but I’ll never know what it’s really like until I finally take that trust-fall into the vast expanse of possibilities.

If I happen to stay underwater for long, facing pressure from every direction in the depths of uncertainty, I can take it as an opportunity to learn to hold the breath, and likewise, faith in myself. And if I hit rock bottom, that could just give me the required thrust to propel upwards through the cold, dark layers until I reach the sunlit surface.

Isn’t being willing to jump in a fair ask, if we expect to get something out of the blue? Perhaps the best thing to come from this exercise, whether a good experience or not, would be building the muscle of self-confidence, which encourages one to experiment over and over.

Here’s hoping we muster the courage to do what we know we should, even if it terrifies us. It doesn’t have to happen overnight; I like to imagine courage as seeping into our soul and leaking into the heart, one drop at a time. And the next time we’re feeling blue, it might help to remember that we are all in the same boat, individually facing our share of fears and insecurities, while helping each other sail through the sea of life.

Life in “shares”

Of late, learning about the stock market had piqued my interest. One rainy evening, sipping hot chai while breathing in the fresh, petrichor-rich air, I found myself looking at the stock market chart of a company, as one often does when trying to determine its progress over the years. I first checked the graph for that day, then for that week, month, and year, until I zoomed out to the five-year graph. As someone merely dabbling in the arena, no amount of squinting at the laptop screen, head cupped in hands, miraculously gave me “the answers” to the relevant questions. Nevertheless, I did go on a tangent and make an interesting observation.

As I gazed at the rugged lines on the chart, ravenously rushing up and then dejectedly dipping down, fluctuating at a phenomenal pace, it occurred to me that if we were to have our lives analyzed and depicted in a similar manner, it wouldn’t be dramatically different from what was in front of me. Curious to explore the analogy, I drew some parallels; imagining a person’s life being split into numerous little shares, the price of each, quantified in terms of happiness and meaning.

Some days we’re better off, and the prices shoot through the roof. Then there are days when the prices – or happiness levels – stoop and fall, and we feel low, literally and figuratively. And then there are times when the societal market itself crashes. We all find ourselves in the same boat, feeling blue, surrounded by the morbid sea of death and sickness, looking for the smallest branch of hope to hang on to.

But if we’re willing to pardon the untimely fall in the price of a company’s share for a week, month, or even a year, trusting that the company is a good one and has the potential to sky-rocket – I asked myself – why don’t we give ourselves a similar benefit of the doubt? Why do we beat ourselves up for every small slip, every little thing that doesn’t go according to plan, and overthink our way into an abyss of unpleasant thoughts?

True, in that moment, on that day, things could have left a bitter taste in the mouth, which no amount of forced positivity can rinse off. But one good or bad day does not decide whether we choose to invest in a company, and analogously would not determine the quality of our entire life. As Matt Haig writes in his book, The Midnight Library, “Sometimes the only way to learn, is to live.” And what is life, if not stewed in a pot of mixed experiences, generously garnished with mistakes, peppered with a pinch of regret here, a dash of embarrassment there, and topped with wholesome love?

It is the five and ten-year graphs that speak volumes about us. If they are on a decline, maybe it’s time to take a step back and rethink our lifestyle. But if the curve is steadily trudging upwards – albeit at snail’s pace – then that’s an assurance that we are headed in the right direction. Life seems a lot like an uneven road riddled with puddles and potholes, and we need not read too much into every pitfall we find ourselves in. (Of course, we could pay a wee bit more attention to the intuitive signposts at every corner that we often conveniently turn a blind eye to!)

Zooming out and looking at the big picture would work wonders for most of us. We make so much progress over the years, only to sweep it under a rug of self-doubt, when we most need to hold it close to the heart. Perhaps if we had as much faith in ourselves and our potential, as we have in stocks and shares, we would be much, much happier. If we could only take a bird’s-eye view of the present the way we look at our past, as a part of the whole, we would treat it quite differently, wouldn’t we? And the next time we face a set-back, even if that means multiple points in a year of being caged in our own houses, perhaps the picture of an imaginary graph will come to our mind, with a tiny dent at its right end. And here’s hoping it soon arches upward in full blossom, like a bent rose curving up to smile at the sun anew.

Fleeting feelings

We live in an era where being called “simple” sounds offensive but “bitch” a compliment 

Where hopping online and clicking a button is all it takes to make a new “friend”

Where slangs and lingos and grooving to the beats of EDM is the norm

Where one wants to stand out, and yet blend into an online platform

Where physical meetings take a back seat while virtual followers are amassed

Where hand-made greeting cards and heartfelt letters have yellowed into souvenirs of the past

Where anticipation builds from glimpses of “delivered” to “read” to “replied”

Where yet another heart breaks over texts, over voice notes, over being left swiped

Where the “ping” of a certain notification stretches the lips into an ephemeral smile 

Where “liking” someone begins with stalking them online and ends with blocking them awhile

Where friendships are fractured over careless comments, photos not shared and handles not tagged

Where the onus of conveying our stories and emotions and feelings is on hackneyed hashtags

Where love is proclaimed to the world even before it is said to each other

Where a “last seen” holds the power to dilute a relation and a “like” to remedy another

Where the speed at which the ticks turn blue resolves whether the connection is to stay

Where showing someone love is as easy as a double tap away, but harder yet to say

An era where we link too much meaning to the less important things

Perhaps, we are scrolling through an era of fleeting feelings…

The Surprise

19th December 2006

“Dad will be here any moment! Hurry up, you all!”, Riya almost screamed in excitement as she arranged and rearranged the balloons and the cake for the hundredth time. It was her father’s 50th birthday and the entire family had gathered to celebrate it. Riya had meticulously planned it out as a grand surprise party, for almost a month. She was aware that being an introvert, her father wasn’t very keen on surprises. But his previous birthdays had been so incredibly insipid, that Riya reasoned she might as well take a chance this time. She chuckled to herself in delight as she furtively telephoned to invite all the relatives for the surprise party.

That day, sixteen year old Riya was dressed in a peach, sleeveless frock, with her thick, curly hair loose around her shoulders. All the relatives had arrived and a convivial atmosphere set in as genial banter and merry laughter floated in the air. The irresistible aroma of scrumptious snacks and chocolate laden deserts wafted into the living room and the mothers put up a united front, striving to keep their restless kids from attacking the feast already.

“Geeta! Did you check if the LED lights are working fine?”, Riya asked her cousin, comically red in the face as she blew yet another balloon.

“Yes Ma’am. By the way, the last time you asked me to check the lights was” – Geeta dramatically twisted her arm to look at her watch – “4 minutes and 28 seconds back”. 

Riya raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Mock me all you like! But I want the party to be perfect in every aspect.”

“Don’t worry! We’re all set. Unless you want me to check the lights again.” Geeta giggled.

“Hold on. I think I can hear Dad park the car… Everyone, down. NOW!” Riya commanded.

Slow, heavy footsteps. Familiar jingling of keys. Turning of door-knob.

Riya’s father stood at the doorway for a brief moment, taken aback by the pitch darkness in the room. He was about to call out, when all of a sudden, the lights flashed on, his favourite song from the 50’s started to play in the background, confetti burst out from unfathomable places, a bunch of kids threw themselves at him almost pinning him to the ground, and everyone screamed “Happy birthday!” at the top of their voices. For ten whole minutes, everyone in the house ran amok, almost enjoying the commotion, and only stopped in mild embarrassment when the neighbour’s dog started barking along in zest.

Riya’s father first looked utterly baffled by the hullabaloo. His eyes widened as he took in the elaborate decorations and his entire family clad in their best suits. Tears sprung to his eyes and he smiled happily, at a loss for words. The song on the music player switched to a heart-warming melody as if in keeping with the mood. Riya ran up to her father and hugged him tight.

“I thought you didn’t like surprises!”

“But you arranged this party, right? So I love it!”

Riya laughed and handed him the watch she’d bought from the money she had saved over the months. “Happy birthday Dad!”

7 years later

“This is unacceptable, Riya Malhotra! How could you make such a patent error in the compilation?”

Riya looked down at the floor trying to avoid the penetrating gaze of her seething boss. Hands behind her back, she nervously picked at her cuticles, cursing herself for the blunder.

“Do you have any idea how many repercussions we have to deal with now?” Her boss reprimanded her.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I did check the files before submitting – “

“Please go and figure out a way to manage this situation.”

“Yes Sir.” Riya’s voice was so small, she could barely hear it herself. 

The past few weeks had been so hectic at work, Riya hardly registered when the day began or ended. Getting admonished by her boss made her further miserable. The only consolation was that she would be at home the next day after countless, stressful weeks. That thought brought a wan smile on her face.

The next day, Riya was at home having dinner with her parents. After catching up with each other and an inescapable, ritualistic discussion on how thin she had become, a concerned look clouded her mother’s face. She could no longer conceal her worry. “Riya, you hardly call home these days. The last time we spoke was two weeks ago. Yesterday I called you twice, but you -“

“Sorry Mom. I was with my boss, so I couldn’t talk to you when you called.”

“That’s alright Riya. How is work going?”, her father asked.

“It’s quite exhausting, Dad. I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in so long.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage better once you settle down. You look tired, go take some rest now. We can talk tomorrow.”

Moonlit night. Cricket noises. Silence.

Sleep eluded Riya’s father. He looked out the window as a yellow lamp post flickered in the distance. He could understand, yes. And yet… one couldn’t help wondering how times change. He affectionately fingered the watch Riya had gifted him years back. As he stared outside, lost in thought, the lamp post flickered to a stop. Riya’s father let out a deep sigh and went to bed.

Riya was long since in a deep slumber, but her phone vibrated incessantly and interrupted her sleep. She rubbed her eyes groggily and groaned when she saw a number of messages from her colleagues. But something else caught her eye and jolted her awake. Her mouth agape, she blinked in disbelief at the date on her mobile screen. 20^th December.  

She had surprised him again. Just in an entirely different way.

White Flag

Dear human beings,

You make me wonder,
Plastic reigns your home 
And there’s trash littered yonder;
Maybe to you, nothing is amiss
But it might not be long before 
You find yourself amidst a crisis.

I was loath to smoke
But full of pollution are my lungs.
I helplessly sneeze acid rains,
My ladder of trust now has 
A few more broken rungs.

My once pristine waters, now appear
To have less fish and more plastic bags;
A white-flagged peace with the environment
Will only follow if you tackle the red flags.

Need I tell you to use dust bins for trash,
To reduce using plastic, to conserve water? 
Wouldn’t you protect the environment 
For yourself, for your son and your daughter?

All I ask is that you do your bit
And look after Nature
I, the Earth, wishes you 
A greener today, tomorrow and day after!

Food for Thought

Lose 3 kg in a week! Realize the slim body of your dreams by following this exclusive diet for a month! Perform this exercise everyday and you’ll be shocked by the results!

These are just some of the eye-catching articles that flash before us on our computer screens, or make themselves comfortable in a corner of the newspaper section dedicated to ‘Health’. And the tips they suggest often work. But the question is – is physical fitness enough? Rather, can our body remain healthy unless the mind does its bit? As clichéd as it may sound, we can all acknowledge the saying – a healthy mind resides in a healthy body. But what might get overlooked is the often-taken-granted-for “vice versa”.

Depression, for instance, is not something unheard of today. It starts like a tiny little problem-worm inside the head. Like a stone creating ripples of misery in what used to be the serene waters of a happy mind. And then that worm doesn’t stay put. It decides to take a trip inside the body. And the ‘problem’ that was once confined to the barricades of the mind,  would now cry out for attention in the form of a stomach ache or body pain or a persistent itch in the eye. Things take a serious turn when the immune system itself gets trapped in the clutches of ‘problem’ and illness becomes a day-to-day story. Depression was an example. Any mental illness escalates and spreads outside its realm with much ease.

Let’s revisit history for a moment. Mind-body medicine originated over 4000 years ago when Chinese physicians noticed that illness often followed periods of frustration in patients’ lives. So this isn’t a new concept. Its been around for years (millennia to be precise). Its time we put knowledge to good use. For many of us, the need of the hour is a diet. A diet for the mind.

We are aware that envy, anger, sadness, guilt and regret are negative emotions and that these must be kept at bay. We’re told to shut the doors of our minds when they knock incessantly. To nip the ‘wrong’ feelings in the bud before they bloom into pitcher plants that hold us prisoners in our own minds. To shoo away the pessimistic ideas with the broom of Hope. However, that’s no cake walk. The bugbears stealthily creep in through the innocent and gullible windows. And once in,  turning them out isn’t an option. They are like unwelcome guests who make themselves too much at home.

The trick is not in struggling to push the thoughts outside. That’s futile. Rather, it is to address the issue at hand, replace those thoughts with constructive ones and fill ourselves to the brim with optimism. At the same time we need to accept that the mind isn’t a machine that can churn out positive thoughts 24*7, or a factory that can manufacture happiness all the time. And so we mustn’t be too hard on ourselves when we make a slip. Being patient and perseverant is the key.

There are umpteen articles by experts, both on the internet, and in the realm of books. Myriads of tips and tricks to purge our minds of the negativity. And no end to online videos solely devoted to make our lives better. Introspecting and making the smallest of changes could go a long way in dealing with these issues. Mental and physical well-being go hand in hand. So put the mind on a diet of good thoughts, burn the calories of negativity, and you’ll be delighted to find yourself mentally “slim” and yet a whole lot more broad-minded.

Happy thinking!

The Journey Begins

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton