Thursday, September 27, 2007


What's the most important day in the year? Your birthday!

Suddenly you wake up and realize that, many years ago, on this very day, you brought joy to your parents just by becoming present. They held your tender hands and taught you many things, cuddled you in your fears, celebrated your truimphs, wept over your falls, assured you in darkness. Over many years, they silently watched you grow up, stronger, wiser, more mature, responsible and capable. You went out into the world with their wishes and came back truimphant. When humiliation came your way, they stood by you. When you returned with a burden of failure, they let you be, without a word. When you dreamed of reaching impossible heights, they advised but never stopped you. When you realised your folly and made amends, they overlooked without the didn't-I-tell-you-so look. When you shouted at them in impatience, they accepted and absorbed your outbursts. When you set up house with another soul, they rejoiced. And when you brought another soul here, they celebrated.

Birthdays belong to the parents. I feel good having turned 32 today but more so because I'm alive, healthy and hopeful-- filled with dreams, energy, enthusiasm and love. I wish the same for my son and know well that this is what Mom and Dad always wish for me, in silence. I feel happy to be with them.

Friday, September 14, 2007

Reflecting, Watching, Just staying alive........

We sit by the window and watch the rains lash through the night sky. There are occasional lightening and thunders-- Tejas turns to me with
wonder whenever the entire landscape lights up.

'He responds to Music, you know,' she says.

Put on some rythmic beats and he starts swaying, moving, nodding. 'Maybe because you listened to a lot of good music from WorldSpace radio, while carrying him. You remember, many times we went to sleep listening to soft music on Moksha and the music played the whole night!'.

'And he's beginning to understand things--he communicates in his own way.'

There's a book on the Desk--'The toddler years'. It's a guide to parenting a toddler and there are benchmarks--what most kids are supposed to do in their 10th month, 11th month etc.

'At 10 months he's doing what a kid is supposed to do in his 14th month-according to that book.'

'He isn't a prodigy. Let him not be one. He's sharp, probably like all kids his age, maybe a bit more, who knows. Let him enjoy his childhood like anyone else. Ask any parent and he'll feel his child is special.'

Soon he falls asleep in my arms. I place him down on the mattress carefully lest he wakes up. The downpour continues unabated. I watch it for hours before falling asleep. First time in recent years.

It rains. All through the morning.
I want to sit back at home and read 'Lost horizon' by James hilton. I want to play with my son. Watch him blabber. Go up, open the internet and read again this fantastic article by Seth Godin. See if I can make use of it, apply it in any way. Or just sit motionless, as the protogonist of a french movie I saw long ago does--he stops suddenly, drops everything and becomes motionless, not even moving his eyelids--he calls this 'witnessing'. I'd like to do that. Or read the translation of the world's best stories on Magic realism. Keeping aside the wishlist, I step out in the drizzle.

'Ramzan's from today.' Pavan says, sipping lemon tea. He's a mix of cynicism and jovialness. And he's always at odds with Fayaz, the team-leader.

'Fayaz is on fast. He's crazy for tea, he'll have atleast 10-15 cups in a day. I wonder how he can stay without tea. I think he'll go mad by the end of this month.'

Fayaz is out of hearing distance. A year ago he was a team member before being elevated to the team lead position. Once you become a leader, the dynamics change. I remember the casual friendly exchanges I'd have with him then. Now he's different. Like all uninspiring leaders, he's an asshole.

'He'll hold his life until evening. At sharp six, he'll be near the pantry door, asking for tea. And know what, the pantry guy tells me that he'll save at least 5 litres of milk everyday, because Fayaz is fasting.'

I remember my fasting episodes long back, when I was seriously pursuing Yoga practices. By evening, there'd be a fire burning my insides.

'Practice anything for 40 days. Anything. And it becomes your nature.' says Nazeer. He too is fasting.

'Does every Muslim fast during the Ramzan month?'

'Yeah. Each and every muslim, young or old, male or female, they observe roza.'

'Because they're devils,' says archana, once I'm home.'That's where the dedication comes from. All devils are highly motivated.'

I stumble across amazing literature on the web. And whenever I find something worthwhile I mail it to all friends. I bookmark all of them on my Stumbleupon site to read them sometime later. Some, I keep aside to read fully and understand before sending it out. Like this one.

And this article on Creativity.

Long back. 'Anyone can take you for a ride, you fool.'

I get disturbed although I know, that person is just frustrated at things not going his way. Words that evoke sorrow in me also make way for rage. Iwant to hit back with tremendous force, with all my strength.

Today morning another guy says, 'It's been very gentlemanly of you. You came all the way while I was thinking that you wouldn't.'

I know that it's not entirely true, he's just flattering me because he got compensated, and I had no intention of obliging him. Or maybe he means it genuinely.Yet I can't stop smiling as I ride to the office, even in the downpour.

Words affect us. They decide our mood and subsequently our action, behaviour and attitude. A single word or gesture has spoiled my mood and made me act irrationally. And a nod of appreciation makes me do something else, changes my posture and outlook, gives me unbridled confidence.......

Is it possible to be totally unaffected by words--whether they come from outside or even from within us? Can I be cheerful even if someone attacks me with the choicest words? And can I remain calm even when my manager howls at us for missing a deadline? How?

'Why do you blog?'

'Because writing makes me feel good about myself, expressing myself gives me clarity. I love to write and read what I've scribbled. And I've learnt from other bloggers, been inspired by what they've written--I've enjoyed reading about their lives, their perceptions. Maybe others will find my scribbles enjoyable, informative. So I share it here.

'You think it's worthwhile'.

'I give no shit.'