An Alchemist's Blog

A Note to Myself

Almost twenty five years ago, I greeted a letter I received from IIM Ahmedabad with a whoop of joy. The letter said I was accepted into their MBA program. Then four years ago, I accepted the road my MBA had taken me down had reached a fork and I chose to start writing, taking pre-mature retirement from my first profession.

 

Years before that my parents accepted I was left-handed and left me alone. Today, I accept my hair is curly, no frizzy, and no matter how much I protest, it will always be. I accept my return to

India

.  We all accept things. And that is how we grow.

 

Acceptance is almost always the first step. The Vedas say when you can’t change something, accept it. Just as a river charts its course without trying to break every obstacle in its path, so must our lives meander around difficulties, the act of meandering beginning with acceptance.

 

Acceptance brings relief. I really don’t need to head-butt that problem anymore. And it all but disappears. It seizes to control me for I have accepted it. Acceptance is my release warrant to worries. It is also the first step to finding their solution.

 

Contrary to ‘giving-in’, acceptance is about not giving-in to negativity. When I accept I am a poor time manager, I start to rely on making lists to manage my day or setting an alarm on my phone to remind me time is a-ticking. When the country collectively accepts

Kashmir

 as an issue, rather than leaving it to Ms. Arundhati Roy alone, we will be on the path to finding a solution. There are no rights and wrongs in the world, only points of view. Accepting allows me to look at the view from another’s window. Not accepting amounts to stopping my car before a speed-breaker without accelerating.

 

I have noticed in the English language, the words we use are to ‘accept something gracefully’. This makes me believe acceptance and grace go together. And our objective is always, but always to receive grace.

 

My prayer to start the day: “I accept with grace and joy all that I am about to receive today.”

 

My prayer to end the day: “I accept with faith and trust, all that happened today was for the best and for my good.”

 

Time it is likely to take: under two minutes.

 

Benefits I will receive: an open attitude, carefree spirit, sparkling intellect, wit and humour that last 24 hours.

 

 But I will never really know until I try it. I must remember to try anything new for 21 days for it to become a habit. But do it one day at a time. If I forget after the first two days, it doesn’t matter, I’ll go back to it after a week or when I remember.

 

Since these thoughts just came into my head, I’m going to go a step further and give them a name. This is my I Accept Meditation. I will start the day with the words I accept and end with the same. I will also accept during the day. When I do these things consciously, I will be meditating.

 

PS : Try as i may, i could not get the layout of this piece to be perfect. Every time i pre-viewed it the words 'India' and 'Kashmir' insisted on separating themselves from the text. Is there a message there?? Also, i decided not to a 'perfectionist' and 'accepted' it and sent this piece on it's way!

 

Perfect me not

I pray to you this day, my lord, make me anything but a perfectionist.

When I first heard the word, I thought it was so aspirational. My God, how wonderful to be a perfectionist. They would, by definition be the most perfect people, with perfect lives to match. Then at the tender age of 7 or 8, I heard my mother say, "I'm a perfectionist." That was it. Now i was sure it was the greatest asset on earth. So without knowing how to become one, I decided I'd be a perfectionist, too, when i grew up.

Now when I look back, perfectionism is nothing but another obsessive disorder. It is as debilitating as an illness. The idea of life, after all, is not to be a slave to anything, even if it is something as 'noble' as perfection.

So, God, I pray to you, give me back this day my freedom and make me not a perfectionist.

My mother was struck by a stroke at the age of 47 (that's 3 years older than what I am today!). I suspect it was her quest for perfection that drove her to ill-health, finally bringing on the stroke. She was a worrier, too, since the two maladies normally feed off each other, and when it all got too much, the coma she went into took care of her.

I'm happy she is with us today, 25 years later, healthy still and living life with unmatched zest. The only thing she lost (along with left peripheral vision) was her obsession with perfection. Now the world moves as per her needs. Lunch time is when she gets hungry. Her house is ram-shackle at times, but there is always homemade ice-cream in the freezer and her to-die-for mango pickle in the martbaan. She prays with a devotion that is unmatched, her faith touching everyone she meets. She's a bold dresser, often wearing colours even a 17 year old would shudder to. She sports a wide brimmed hat over her salwar kameez to protect her beautiful fair countenance in the burning heat of summer and waves innocently at those who stop to stare at her. She reads for pleasure, never to keep up with the latest buzz. She wears her politics on her sleeve but seldom bears a grudge towards others who do so, too. She's impulsive as a child; as readily splurging money on a piece of jewelry, as on an operation for a near deaf under-privileged child she happened to meet.

She's no where near perfect. She's my mother.

Thought for a slow day

S l o w  D o w n . . .

Slow down you move too fast, you've got to make the moment last.

We've heard it a million times and the concept is easy to comprehend. It makes sense, just wish we could do it, huh? Well, I'm in a mood where I look for answers, not just raise questions. I'm trying this out so let me know if it works for you.

I woke up this morning with a meeting to attend in school. There was a flurry of activity early morning with three members of the family required to leave the house all at once by 7.30am without biting each other's heads off. Besides there were other things to take care of for the fourth member of the house who would  be leaving home shortly and so on and so forth. By the end there were still things to do and four minutes to do them in. So guess what I did. I did each one real s l o w.

I spoke slowly to the maid and told her what she was to do while i was away. She understood straight away. (first time she's ever done that)

I combed out my hair neatly and bundled it up without having to re-do it since there were no bits sticking out at awkward angles.

I calmly asked my son if he had taken everything he needed and he replied surprised, but calm, that indeed he had all his stuff and when he did forget his PE bag, he calmly walked back into the house and got it. We waited serenely in the lift, but were finally on our way, just a little later than any other day, but much much happier.

I'm sure you're getting the general drift of where this is going.

Next we calmly told the driver to drive to school, but a little faster than normal if he would, please. He rose to the ocassion with amazing efficiency and drove expertly yet calmly all the way to school.

Needless to say, we made it on time, were able to gracefully peck each other on the cheek and in general get off to a great start.

During the networking session after the meeting when the parents chatted with each other over coffee, I continued to speak slowly. I was surprising myself by now, but I did not want to speak any faster. I couldn't if I tried. As a result, I thought before I said anything. I recalled the names of most people I was introduced to. I did not volunteer for the technology group because I was thinking before raising my hand. I did say some kind and gentle sounding stuff and another class parent listened and came over to enlist my support for the Culture and Traditions club which is much more my kind of thing.

I've had a wonderfully slow day and it's been great for me. A useful fall-out has been that i completed my job list for today and then calmly went through half the things i needed to do tomorrow as well. Not bad for one of them 'slow' days, eh? ;-)

Thought for the Day

The Smiling Penance :-)

Having attended a meditation and spiritual workshop recently, I came up with the concept of the Smiling Penance. I am sharing it below.

Do the smiling penance! Smile all day! Smile at things common and uncommon! Look at everything as if it has an exclamation mark at the end! Like the rishi-munnis of old who did body and mind penance in the forests and mountains, this is a city penance! Look at everything that the city throws at you with a smile on your face. Smile consciously! Smile unconsciously! Smile at people (that's hard! specially when you see their frowning faces staring back at you!) Smile into space! If nothing else smile at the ground (its the easiest - try it for level 1!) Smile inside yourself! Think of your organs as smiling inside you! Think of every cell smiling! Keep a big big smile inside you and feel it sitting there just where your heart is!

Your thoughts will come down! Mind will be stilled and you feel calmer. Your face will feel relaxed! There will be no creases on your forehead or your face! It will feel smooth and supple and young! Do the smiling penance!

Smile when you speak! Smile inbetween sentences! Smile while you are angry or upset (level 3 and above!) Then watch the anger slip away!

I recommend doing it everyday and for the whole day! But do it as often as you can (as in every time you remember!) No pressure! Just smile :-)

Rain and Roses - Part 2

Please read the previous post for Part 1

This guy came prepared for his evening constitutional. As did his maid who wore a matching rain coat but was too shy to be in the frame. Shy? Bandra? That’s a first for me. Come to think of it, the pooch’s turning his face away as well. Maybe all they want is a little privacy.

 

 

Speaking of privacy, there was none to be had for this couple. My all intrusive zoom caught them getting rather cosy along the stretch of road near Lilavati hospital flyover. That is Mahim creek in the background. This road is often dotted with couples and they aren’t usually only talking. By the way, this shot was taken during a dry spell. They were probably exercising the ribs of their red umbrella to make sure they weren’t rusting.

 

 

 

Better safe than sodden. The fruit seller decided to cover up during an all soaking downpour.

 

 

And this is Bandra’s most effective ad campaign. It’s prolific, eye-catching and free! Given a blank wall, siding, awning, any surface basically, it’s sure to make a splash. Various backgrounds bring the staid copy alive. Almost graffiti, it has a style all its own. In case you think the drips are staged; they aren’t. Any site that sports the beanbag sign has arrived.

 

That’s it folks. Bye from me ’n’ Bountiful Bandra.

 

Rain and Roses - A photo essay

An authority informed me recently that the centre of Bombay had shifted to Bandra. Essentially 'town' short for the phrase 'the centre of town' is now where we live. That means Pedder Road, Warden Road etc. now fall in the 'southern suburbs' and Colaba-Cuffe Parade, the southest-of-the-south boonies. Andheri moves up in status being almost contiguous to Bandra. North of Andheri remains northern suburbia. Well,this and the rain in Bandra prompted me to compose this small photo essay on the 'new town'. I hope you enjoy it. It is being presented in parts since pictures cannot be uploaded too many at a time.

What's a monsoon without a whiff of romance. No sooner does it rain than the hawkers come alongside cars and taxis selling these wonderful blooms. So much so that i strongly associate them with the squelchy mud laden roads of Bombay's monsoon. Strange are the associations we each harbour.

Another of these associations is with ‘bhutta’? Sold mostly along the seashore, a sizzling hot ‘bhutta’, fresh off glowing coals, doused in lemon juice, salt and chilli powder, is definitely

Bombay

’s best comfort food on a blustery, rain splattered evening.

 

Road: Pothole ratio? You decide.

 

 

The times are a-changing. Cricket no longer rulz

Bombay

. It’s soccer for the Bandra boys, men. And weather conditions don’t matter. The wetter the better.

 

 

The Son

My niece Tarini wrote a poem for Vijay, the son who left us on the 11th of Aug, 1980. Vijay would have been Tarini's uncle, just as Ajay is. Written for someone she never knew, this poem is so beautiful, I'm posting it here:

'The Son

 

The sun sets illuminating the sky in the most vivid colours,

The sun hides behind the clouds when they are dark and when the rain falls,

The sun plays hide and seek and leaves us in shadow

The moon becomes the spotlight and the stars twinkle in the sky leaving us to wonder why the sun left to shine on someone else.

 

The sun never dims, or shines less bright, it neither disappears nor changes,

A constant in many forms it remains.

 

The sun is the silver lining behind the darkest cloud,

The sun creates a rainbow when it fights to shine through the pouring rain,

The sun, almost divine, warms on that cold winter day.

The sun creeps into the sky, awakening us from darkness, calling us forward into the light.

 

The Son never left, never faded

He’s the smile though the tears,

The emotion that touches you in a place beyond your soul,

He’s the light that shines through the darkness,

And even in the darkest night He is the moon and all the stars.

 

He’s yours, constantly yours,

The sun of your skies,

The Son of your heart.'

 

 

Tarini Vikram Singh

11 Aug 2008

Delhi

 

Post Script : I put the last full stop on my manuscript on the 11th of Aug, 2007 and bundled it off to a publisher. I felt happier letting go of my work on that day. I felt Viju would watch over it for me. On the 11th of Aug, 2008, I received a publishing contract. He was and always will watch over all of us.

Blue, Blue Frog

A couple of weeks ago,while the rain tapped a rhythm on the high rafters from the outside, inside Blue Frog, the Club, an eclectic, energetic, ensemble beat the night away.

The most liberal of music lovers have come to accept and love a range of new-wave musical instruments, but fusion music made with the Mridangam played by the lead instrumentalist was probably a first for many there. This bold attempt was made by Vivek Rajagopalan and his band of merry men (and one charming woman). They showcased an interesting suite of compositions, however the one that stole the show was made right there, as the audience watched. Four of Vivek's percussionist friends hoisted themselves on stage and began belting out beats. They played none of the instruments, instead using their mouths to make sounds. It's called beat-boxing, I'm told. It was energetic and completely passionate. It is said, when talent meets passion, the results can be but pleasing, in this case, quite awe-inspiring.

For me, except for the wonderful company of our hosts, Renisha and Simran, the rest of the evening paled in comparison to this spontaneous performance. But there seems to be a lot of fun happening regularly at Blue Frog, Mumbai and I'm glad to have been a part of it. Maybe, I'll go more often, rather than being a frog in my own well.

Blue Frog is at www.bluefrog.co.in  Check out the gig calendar on-line. There are clear directions on how to get there as well!

But then Again

Two days ago, as I boarded a plane to Chandigarh to visit my parents I opened the newspaper and read two pieces of news both to do with army officers and their children. In the first, a 19 year old daughter was estranged from her father, a naval officer. She had refused to speak to him for the past five months. The issue revolved around the girl choosing her husband against her father’s wishes. The matter was in a court of law and whereas they could rule for or against the liaison, they professed inability to bring the daughter to speak to her father. The distraught officer left the court dejected. It was indeed a sad day for both father and daughter. In the other news report, an army officer’s son was involved in a money-for-jobs scam.

I do realise there are two sides to every story and these instances were showing me the other side of the spotless and glorious army. (see other post tilted ‘Institutions of Pride’). There are fallible humans everywhere and one shouldn’t tar or polish everyone with a common brush. It would be a foolish assumption on my part that every child brought up in the armed forces is upright, honest, reasonable and all-in-all a ‘wonderful’ human being. These characteristics come from other, very different circumstances, too.

Let’s just say, if children are seeds to be sown, the armed forces provide a well tilled, fertile soil in which to plant. Undoubtedly here are several other things that go into making a person including a destiny which is all their own.

May I hasten to add that some of the most wonderful people I know are far removed from the armed forces as it were!

The same old connection again

I said they are a different breed all together and I keep meeting them!

Last weekend, I attended a workshop on Meditation meant to bring about peace in one’s inner being using a system created by Parmahamsa Nithyananda. The course was conducted by a beautiful and gifted Acharya named Ma Raaga (spiritual name). She was clear in her communication and empathetic in the extreme. She charmed the class into listening to her every word throughout the exacting two days of lectures and dynamic meditations.

She spoke of how she had been initiated in the system and explained how the first time she attended a workshop she followed all the instructions “sincerely and diligently…just as in the army.”  My suspicions began to grow as I thought about what she had said.

In the subsequent break it became clear during conversation that Ma Raaga was a naval officer’s wife, an army man’s daughter and her brother too had joined the armed forces! I was not surprised. I knew there was a connection somehow and I was proud once again of my fauji upbringing and the fact that it produced the likes of Ma Raaga. As she says, Nithyananda! May eternal bliss be with everyone! Visit the site to know more about the programs www.dhyanapeetam.org . They are quite blissful.

Also see previous post 'Institutions of Pride' where I speak of the armed forces.