A Normal Life

For exactly the past seven days, I’ve been holed up in my house. I haven’t met people, except those who inhabit/visit my home; I have felt neither the sun nor the rain on my skin; I haven’t been out in the fresh air; I haven’t lived. I’ve spent my days in a zombie-like state: Eating, Sleeping and Eating …in any order you prefer.

No, I have not gone insane… nor am I depressed. I’m experimenting. I’m trying to feel for myself what life would be like if the luxuries of Nature and society were one day suddenly denied to me. How would it feel if one day I woke up to find not a single soul willing to talk to me, much less touch me? How would I react if I were confined to a small room so dark that not even a sliver of light can breach the darkness? As they say, I would be alive, but not Alive...

Scary as it may seem, this horrid exclusion is exactly what thousands of children in India face when they’re diagnosed with HIV.

During my two-month stay at Hyderabad, we visited Desire Society, a care home for children affected and infected by HIV/AIDS. The institute is home to about sixty-five children affected by HIV. During our interaction I came across two especially lovely girls, Lakshmi and Sirisha. There was an instant connection with these best friends. Was it the way they coyly approached me, the way the perfectly copied my steps as we danced to Bollywood hits or their sheer excitement when I met their pet rabbit… I will never know.

Then and Now

Top: Lakshmi

Bottom: Sirisha

Outcast by the society, orphaned at a tender age, here were two little ladies whose passion for life far exceeded mine. As they skipped around to show me their moves, their smiles hid the trauma they’ve undergone. While one was admitted with symptoms of tuberculosis when she was all of four years, the other was turned away by her family and friends alike. In this world far away from our own, they pretended to be little princesses for whom life has been one nice fairy tale. The reality…far from pleasant

In a country like India, where awareness about HIV is at sub-zero levels, any child infected with the virus at birth is treated as a curse to society. Food, family, shelter…they have nothing. Battling ill-health, these kids wage a war for survival every single day. It is a battle against an empty stomach, against an evil society that refuses to take them in its fold, against a system which systematically discriminates against them.

What we need to understand is that shutting them out is not the solution. In India, roughly 80% of HIV infections in children are vertical, i.e. mother to child transmissions. The remaining 20% get infected owing to blood transfusions and sexual activity. Symptoms might appear as early as before a baby completes a full year of his life, to a few years later in the childhood. Since this deadly virus lowers the defense mechanisms of the body, these children are prone to opportunistic infections as well as neurological manifestations.

They show an increased tendency to suffer the usual childhood infections, such as a common cold, with a magnified intensity. If left untreated, something as curable as diarrhea may be the cause of death. Unlike their counterparts at institutions like Desire Society, most children don’t have access to even such basic healthcare. Much more debilitating diseases follow.

I find myself unable put in words the hardships they face. But I'm sure if you have the means to read this, you must know this already. The question is, what have we done to help?

As grim as it sounds, Lakshmi and Sirisha also showed me the sunny side of their life. They might have lost their parents, but they have each other. They might have lost touch with the world, but they built their own. A world in which, surprisingly, people like me and you are always welcome.

I know not if I will see them again. I know not if they’ll lead a healthy life. I know not if they’ll ever be accepted by society. But I do know their life is on track to becoming what it should be: Normal.

P.S. I'll upload some pictures of their artwork soon :)

Full Circle

Ten days since the last time I wrote…

Ten days since that eventful day at Microsoft (MS)…

Ten days…

Honestly, I can be very stubborn at times. I want things to go my way. Yet sometimes, when they do, it leaves me wide-eyed. And that is exactly how I was when they broke the news, “…and you have driven results in a manner that Microsoft expects. We’ll be happy to have you here with us. Congratulations!”

I can never forget these words simply for the change they’ve brought about in my life. A change so significant, I haven’t still realized its full potential.

It is common knowledge that Engineering students in their final year have to go through a rigorous placement process. The process demands strength on all fronts, academic, behavioral and emotional. You have to come out strong, be better than all others, in order to get that job. Being placed right at the start of this crucial year has indeed saved me from this dreadful exercise.

However, the changes I feel creeping into my life are far more significant. For once, I am not continually worried about my future. I have a certain reassurance that things can’t go terribly wrong now. It gives a spring to my step, a sparkle to my eyes. I feel in control of my life after a very long time.

All of a sudden, we are the celebrities in college. Everybody wants to talk to us, meet with us. When your hard work gets appreciated, it definitely feels good. When appreciation comes from strangers, you’re on cloud nine. However, I still have my two feet firmly on the ground. I’m waiting to hear from my friends who are destined for places greater than MS. When news of their success comes… that is when I will be on that metaphoric cloud.

Talking about those who didn’t make it… for the past three years, I’ve been in that category. All through my school life I’ve been at top of my class. It was a real shocker for everyone around me when I didn’t get an A+ result in my engineering entrances. After a few weeks, it was my turn to be shocked. People who swore to be my best buddies deserted me. People who got into better colleges stopped calling up. Even parents of kids pursuing worthless courses in fames institutions turned up their nose. People changed. It hurt. A lot…

Yet it taught me an important life lesson; I learnt to see the genuineness (or the lack thereof) in people. I learnt to differentiate between friends, workplace associations, acquaintances and those who will jump ship at the slightest trouble. I learnt that people’s worth can’t be measured by the grades they score or by the college they attend. After all, one might have a bright mind but a rotten heart.

In these three years, my transformation has been total and complete. Good that I didn’t get into an elite college, good that I was named the non-performer, good, good and good… After all, it has helped me improve. And even though life has come a full circle and I’m in the most-coveted achiever’s club once again, I know it is just temporary. I know my people. I know I am not one of those who judge.

I would like to end with this thought, “Never doubt a person’s capability. You never know when it’s their time to shine.”

Growth over Rote

When you google the word “Education” you get two definitions:

#1 the process of giving or receiving systematic instruction, esp. at a school or university

#2 an enlightening experience

Which of these are you most likely to agree with?

In the Indian context, our entire education system is focused around grades and marks, nothing more, nothing less. You score well, you’re the raja beta (or beti); if you don’t, God help you!

Fretting over the general lack of innovation and adaptability in present day classroom teaching, I started looking around. And this is when I came across The Testament.

Initially, just a newsletter, this start-up has evolved, grown and diversified into a plethora of undertakings. In their own words, they aim to enhance the vision and creative thinking of students through ingenious mechanisms to change the education scenario in our country. Definitely commendable!

But a lot of student organizations come and go, never really making an impact. Is this the case here as well? Is the bubble about to burst? I hope not because the efforts being put in by this twenty-member organization cannot go unnoticed.

Take, for instance, their High Potential Development Cell or Hi-Po, as they call it. These sessions provide an essentially enriching and rewarding experience to all those involved. The format couldn’t have been simpler: One speaker talks about great marketing, business phenomenon and strategies, people profiles and the like. This is followed by a rather intense question-answer session.

Wouldn’t you like to attend such events where you learn actual tricks of the trade, where you can gain in-depth knowledge in areas that really matter?

I, for one, hope that they succeed in their endeavor… for my benefit lies in their success…

P.S. If you wish to know more about them, visit https://www.facebook.com/thetestament2012

P.P.S. I think this is my first ever serious post about this particular facet of our everyday life! 

Happiness

Happiness- that mysterious state of being, which forever eludes most of us. We might think of it day in and day out, without results. We might attend wellness camps, laughter sessions and undergo therapy… all to no avail... because happiness is found at that one place where we never bother looking- in our own self.

We always seek happiness in the company of others, in the approval of others. We are over-joyed if someone praises us…ecstatic if someone appreciates us. But is this happiness eternal? No. It is blown to pieces the next time they don’t take notice. Honestly, since when did we become so dependent on others for our daily dose of happiness? If I am all alone in this world… can’t I be happy?

For the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to think over what keeps me happy. Forgive my twenty year young mind for any mistakes, but this is what I found out:

1)   The first and foremost tenet of a happy life is being content with what I have. No way does it mean that I do not want more. Imagine saying no to buying more clothes when your mum is ready to loosen her purse strings! Stupid, I tell you! But yes, if she does say no, I’ll be happy with the things I did buy. Rather I show them off to everyone at home (that includes a mini fashion show for all my spoils).

2)   The second: Not comparing myself to others. Comparisons never brought anyone joy. Never ever. Trust me… I checked it in all the encyclopedias. It might make me smirk, but it never makes me smile. And smirking isn’t a really good gesture. When I can isolate my performance, my grades, my fortune from that of others and compare them only with my previous state…only then can I experience true joy.

3)   The third: Not carrying grudges. I know everyone loves to remember the compliments they receive. But somehow, we’re wired in a way to remember the rebukes and insults for a longer time. Maybe God did make a mistake in this particular neural circuit. Or maybe we made an error in understanding it.  Harboring negative feelings of revenge does more harm than good. We might be able to get back at the other person but in the process, we lose our calm. All the planning and plotting feeds on our energy, our happiness.

4)   The fourth: Doing things my way. No, this isn’t called being headstrong. It is called being… well… just being me. No doubt it is of immense importance to listen to all sides before taking a decision… but it is equally important to do what you love. When you do what you really want to, you work extra hard, this hard work gives better results… better results mean more satisfaction. Someone told me, satisfaction and happiness go hand in hand. There you are. Doing your own thing gives you happiness.

5)   The fifth (perhaps the most important): Establish control over your life by accepting that certain things cannot be changed. Contradictory as it might seem, to gain control of your own self you need to understand that certain things are beyond your control. Identify these things, make peace with them… then be they issues with family or friends, economic problems… whatever makes you pull your hair in frustration. Once you accept these bitter truths of life, you gain control over the things you can and should influence. I never feel nice doing something because someone else told me to. It makes me restless. It makes me irritable. But when I know the rationale behind something and do it of my own free will…there is precisely nothing I love more. If I control what I do, if I am my own master… I am happy.

All these points just indicate the importance of loving yourself. Mind you, it is not the same as being self-centered. You can be kind to others, speak well of others and have strong and healthy relationships only if you are happy inside.

 If you love the person you see in the mirror every morning… you’ll be happy. If you love the shape, size, color you have been endowed with… you’ll be happy. If you’re nodding your head in agreement… you’ll be happy. Voila! If you have a smile on your face… you are happy!!!  

P.S. Did anyone understand the meaning of the picture? If yes, I would love to hear your interpretation before I let you know mine :)

Mother...

For the past twenty years I’ve been trying to unravel a mystery. Why, just why, does my mother love to see me dance on virtually every occasion? Be it a wedding, an engagement or a simple kirtan, somehow, it isn’t complete until I put in a thumka or two. Yesterday, while attending my younger brother’s first annual day function, I think I got my answer.

My brother is due to complete his third revolution round the sun next month. Yesterday was his first stage performance. Seeing him in his dance costume, I couldn’t resist but pull his cheeks. It was such an ‘Aww’ moment.

When we reached the venue, I could see tiny tots all around... dressed in the rainbow of colorful costumes. The school was celebrating the spirit of Unity in Diversity.  I could see the traditional dresses of Kashmir, Kerala, Uttar Pradhesh, Rajasthan and Punjab. Walking around in their assumed State- identities… these kids exuded confidence and joy.

When these young performers took to the stage, imitating their teacher’s dance steps, I couldn’t help but smile from ear-to-ear. And this smile didn’t fade for the next two hours. One after the other, groups of confident younglings came and delighted me. While some cried from stage-fright, the others danced with a carefree attitude known only to children.

Seeing my little brother dance on stage, I felt proud at being his sister. Waving his hands, and tapping his feet, he looked like an adorable dumpling of joy. Mind you, the girl next to him danced with way more energy and enthusiasm. When the performances ended, there were excited calls from all around.

The kids, drunk on their success, went berserk. Dancing off the stage or just play fighting with their friends, they really made my day. Somewhere, I understood the reason for my mother’s strongest wish. Just like I was happy to see my brother do well, my mother is ecstatic when I do something similar. It isn’t about dance. She just wants me to do well in life. And if somehow, my dance makes people praise me, then she wants it that way.

Parents, I believe, feel the best when someone praises their child. They keep their personal ambitions aside when it comes to their kid. My mother, she sacrificed her career so that my brother and I could get a good upbringing. She has worked hard with us, to make us who we are. If I were a stone, she’d be my sculptor… carving me out into a beautiful person.

Our mothers, they do so much for us, without ever letting us know. They want us to excel at what we do well and get better at what we don’t. No matter the problems they are going through... they are always there for us, willing to listen to every story, every complaint, every nightmare. They soothe us when we're scared, cheer us on when we need support, encourage us when we are unsure and love us when we feel alone. Yet I won’t be wrong if I say that all of us have belittled her efforts some time or the other. We have been impatient with her, been rude to her. We have taken her for granted.

I know it is not Mother’s Day yet. But I just want to thank my mum (mummy as I call her). I know she doesn’t read my blog. She is far too busy dealing with the mess that we create. So this silent wish goes out to all the mothers… thank you for being who you are and nurturing us the way you do.

Love you Mum

A Date with Beauty

If thou of fortune be bereft

and of thine earthly store have left

two loaves, sell one and with the dole

feed hyacinths to the soul.

These beautiful lines were written by Sir Alexander Clegg…

Ever since these words crossed my eyes, I have been marveling at their depth. These lines hold a profound truth: Man cannot sustain life just with bread.

This morning, when I visited the Ghazipur Pushp Mandi (Ghazipur Flower Market, East Delhi, India), I just could not contain my excitement on finally understanding his words… After carefully navigating my way through little pools of water filled with squishy mud, I found myself in the most delightful of places.  Spread all around me were flowers of virtually all imaginable (and unimaginable) colors, varieties, shapes…

As the early morning breeze caressed my cheeks, the flowers lured me, teased me with their vibrant colors and sensuous fragrances. As I walked by, they seemed to call out to me and I often ended up touching them, looking at them, much to the curiosity of the vendors. From one corner, the carnations looked at me sleepily, from their huddled masses… from the other the orchids, in all their sophistication; lay in neat piles, talking in soft voices. The shy lilies hid their beauty behind closed buds…

As if these were not enough to make me high on flowers… there were gerberas, nodding their acknowledgement to me, tulips sending me cute kisses, the roses dressed up in their best, the genda reminding me of that time around New Year when they’d adorned my home… a host of exotic flowers, which spoke to me in languages unknown… I don’t even know their names… I was just wandering through this wonderland with the dazed eyes of an awestruck admirer.

It was then that I realized the importance of beauty in our life. Imagine a dreary life… where you eat, work and sleep… where there is no joy, no surprises… a world without flowers… it will essentially be a world without smiles. Will we be able to live for long? For one like me… who goes berserk when she sees a flower in full bloom… such a life is hard to imagine. Beauty gives us happiness. And what is life if you’re not happy?

In this back-breaking competition, a thing of beauty is really rare. It is precious. As Wordsworth said, they remain with us long after we have seen them. They come back to us at  times we expect them the least…at times when we’re alone, lonely or sad… they cheer us up and dance with us to the tune of life… So what if they didn’t have hyacinths today. If I have two pennies, I’ll spend one on bread, the other on a lily (my favourite).

P.S. This Mandi, which is my private ‘soothe-my-soul land’, was established in 2011 in place of the existing Mandis at Connaught Place, Mehrauli and Fatehpuri. The government aimed to give the licensed flower vendors a proper place, with a roof over their head, a cold storage and better facilities, where they could trade for a longer time. If you were to google this particular market, you’ll only find articles expressing discontent. There were protests against the increased costs incurred owing to the shift. There was a lot of talk of cultural heritage being lost, talk of inconvenience to both, the buyers and the sellers.

But the situation isn’t as bad as it is made out to be. Not only is the space big, luxurious as compared to the other markets, it is relatively clean as well (never mind the mud pools… blame it on the torrent last night). If the legal vendors, numbering close to 400, do brisk business inside, their illegal counterparts, selling everything from flowers to sponges make money outside. True, this area is on the periphery of the city, but I found ample auto-rickshaws willing to take me to my destination. Do visit the Mandi… it is definitely worth your time.

The Best Gift

This morning, we woke up to my mother’s cry of anguish… what she had long suspected had finally come true- she had been taken ill… she was down with fever. That mortal enemy, influenza-viral, had finally caught on. While she fretted about her health and destiny forced me to do all the household chores single-handedly, I thought about our good fortune- good health.

I can bet… any and every one of us, calls down the fury of God on our foes at least five times a day. If we’re not doing that, then we’re busy cribbing about our not-so-happening life, complaining about our teachers, bitching about people or just cursing life in general. But how many of us really treasure the good moments? Particularly those times when we’re not sneezing our heads off, when we’re not lying in bed battling with a soaring body temperature, when we’re not frequenting the washroom every ten seconds… I can see very few hands raised…

Health is Wealth… these three words have always stuck out in my little head like neon lights… irritating, un- ignorable lights. And yet, I doubt I’m really following all the tenets of this philosophy. And so it is for most of us. Of the thousands of people I know, only a handful of them can claim to be the blessed souls who give their mind and body some time every day.

For the rest of us, the world is just a blur of food, work and sleep. But just as we realize the importance of things and people after we lose them, we realize the importance of good health only when we fall ill. As a wiry pre-teen, I would always tell my mother “Mama, every day seems so special when I’m fine” (I would have to be put on antibiotics almost every alternate week. Alas! Such was my immune system back then). Somehow, those early bouts of illness made me value my healthy days way more… I would squeeze in everything that I could… from school to dance classes, hours of cycling, playing in the mud, going over to my friend’s place, running after pigeons, getting beaten up in street fights (sometimes I would beat people too), troubling my mother in the kitchen or just following my dad everywhere like a lost puppy… so much in a day!

Falling ill made me realize the importance of each day, every single minute. It also made me acutely aware of all the people around me who are not as fortunate. Any form of illness, then be it a minor cold or a life-threatening cancer… it takes away the spring from your step, it makes the blue sky look grey… I thank God every day when I wake up fine… think of all those who woke up to a sore throat, an eye infection, news of a deadly disease or worse… don’t wake up at all.

If there is something that can make you love life with all your heart, it is good health. Give him a body free from illness and a man can do wonders. What worries me the most is the general health of children in India.

 To quote from Wikipedia:

“The World Bank estimates that India is ranked 2nd in the world of the number of children suffering from malnutrition, where 47% of the children exhibit a degree of malnutrition. The prevalence of underweight children in India is among the highest in the world with dire consequences for mobility, mortality, productivity and economic growth. The UN estimates that 2.1 million Indian children die before reaching the age of 5 every year – four every minute – mostly from preventable illnesses such as diarrhoea, typhoid, malaria, measles and pneumonia. Every day, 1,000 Indian children die because of diarrhoea alone. According to the 1991 census of India, it has around 150 million children, constituting 17.5% of India's population, who are below the age of 6 years.”

India is also ranked 15th in the 2011 Global Hunger Index Report.

It is one thing to willingly neglect our health like most people from the well-off sections of the society do. But to be not given a shot at it… it is inhuman.

If you’re reading this, I’m assuming you get three meals every day. So go out, exercise, keep fit and love life so that you can spread a little of that love among others… others who live on crumbs…

Stay healthy. It is the Best Gift that you can gift yourself.

Farewells...

I came here, unmoulded clay

Washed up on your shores

You took me in, soft hands

Moulded me into who I am…

As I helped my brother gel up his hair for the school farewell…I couldn’t help but remember that time, a few hundred days ago, when I was getting ready for my own. I wasn’t suffering from the ‘I- don’t- want-to-leave-school’ syndrome. In fact, all I cared about was wearing a Saree, meeting friends and having a nice time. Little did I realize that farewells change lives… that this single day of dressing up like a young ladies and gentlemen would mark an important transition in our life…

It was not just the end of our school days… it was the end of a way of living… one where expectations were low, rules were flexible and the laughs came easy.

From the moment I stepped inside the school gates everything was different… the teachers who would glare at us if we talked in class, would reprimand us for low attendance (which was almost every other day)…met us with warm welcoming hugs… compliments flowed (champagne was not allowed) and all around me, I had friends, smiling their familiar smiles. I’d known them for just two years and yet somehow, I belonged. I felt safe.

Conveniently ignoring the ticking of the clock, we made memories… lots and lots of happy memories. I distinctly remember the ruckus we made while taking our class photograph. The whole school probably thought we’d lost our minds. None of us cared. But when the time to part came, the merry-making stopped. The spring in our steps disappeared… the smiles began to fade. I knew, I’ll probably never meet them again…save a few… and almost definitely not attend the same lectures again. The feeling was heart breaking… like I was losing something valuable.

The word ‘farewell’ and ‘good bye’ tasted bitter on my tongue. At last… I didn’t want to leave school. We promised we’ll meet up later but everyone knew better. True friendships endure the barriers of time and distance. But to put them to test is the toughest part of it. Each friend you lose leaves a void, where only memories remain.

But somewhere down the line I did  understand that farewells are not all about endings…they are about beginnings too… beginning a new life, with new dreams, new aspirations. To don the shoes of a young adult, you have to let go a kid’s shoes…and this is exactly what farewells do. They help you step into the bigger world with a confident stride. They help you prepare for the eventful journey your life is going to be. They are the sentries guarding the gates of your new life. All along, close to your heart, you have memories of that day you bid farewell to your loved ones.

After our last day at school, life became a roller coaster ride…a whirlwind of new people, new ideas, new expectations… we never got time to look back and think of all that was left behind…but I do think that all of us kept our old friends and memories safe in our strong rooms. Two years down the line, I realize that this is the way it is meant to be. We were neither the first batch of students nor the last to be given a farewell… what is important is holding on to the memories and the friends who were your life once…

Don't be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.

Richard Bach

Dedicated to you… J

P.S. That picture you see... it symbolizes the end of one path, our life at school, but it also gives us a peek at the whole wide world waiting to embrace us... 

A Part of Me

“Every savage can dance”…that is what Mr Darcy said about dance in Pride and Prejudice. I couldn’t have disagreed more.

I was introduced to Kathak, a classical form of dance, at a very young age. I knew all the taals and tukdas while still in preparatory school. Joining my college’s dance team was an obvious choice then. Western dance styles are way different from kathak but it is an experience I enjoyed to the hilt.

Dance is an art. It needs devotion. It demands a lot of sacrifices, a zillion truckloads of effort and mountains of patience. I always think of it as a slow art. You can’t make a performer in a day. It takes years of silent work before one can step on stage and dazzle the audience.

I vividly remember the long practice sessions we had, dancing for close to eight hours each day, pushing ourselves beyond our limits. In those days, dance became my drug. I was addicted to it. I talked of nothing else, thought of little else. And now that I look back at that time, I think those hours spent in the company of my team-mates, twisting our bodies into impossible shapes, will be the most cherished of my college life.

Whenever I dance, I am transformed into a different person. It is like a trance. It lifts me above the worries of everyday life. When each beat of the music resonates with the beating of my heart, I lose all sense of this world. It is a state of bliss which bestows upon me a sense of achievement, of fulfillment, of being complete. It makes me love myself.

The array of emotions expressed by the slightest change in posture, the silent words said by the movement of my eyes, the great tales told without uttering so much as a word; all left me overwhelmed and humbled.

While I am dancing, I can be anyone I wish to be. I am not restrained to fit into a particular image or social norms which bind me. I can just be me, free as a bird in the purple sky of her dreams…

But even as I am reliving those moments from my not-so-distant past, I cannot help but keep in mind that that joy is forbidden to me now. Happy stories do not always have happy ends. A series of events forced me to give up my place on the team. During the days that followed, I alternated between being angry and painfully grief-stricken. It was like having a part of me snatched away. Some part of my little heart went cold. Dance was my passion, still is. But I realized, sometimes you just have to give up the things most dear to you.

Dance helped me learn a lot, from little things like taking care of my own belongings and travelling by DTC to larger lessons of life like discipline and perseverance. It has played a pivotal role in shaping me into the person I am today. It changed this fish’s perspective towards life. I interacted with new people and opened up to this world. I came out of my shell to leave others shell-shocked…

I still dance but it is within the confines of four walls. I do not hear the loud cheering anymore or the thunder-like applause, so common during our performances. That was another world. Today, dance is a form of meditation for me, a way to connect and communicate with my inner self. It is a means to escape into a different world where I am not chained down. Nobody can take away my heart’s foot-tapping beats…

“Swaying to the music, lost to the world… I live the dreams I dreamed as a little girl.”