I tend to hold people very lightly these days. I used to hold them very tightly when I was younger but now it's very light. It's as if a part of me is unconsciously waiting for them to let me down. When it happens, I am prepared. Water down a duck's back. Doesn't matter because I was always seeing it coming. So it can't hurt me. I saw it coming. When you are a person who hurts very deeply, you have to protect yourself. People are very fickle, here today and gone tomorrow, say this today and something else tomorrow, they'll ask you to be yourself today and take offence tomorrow. They won't see all the little actions you do, efforts you make, loyalties you show. I don't even expect them to anymore. Maybe someday they will surprise me. But I don't hold my breath. Maybe they won't and that's okay. Because I hold people so lightly now, letting go comes easy. I anticipated the moment and sort of taught myself to live like it would come soon. Because it's a rare thing really. For people to stick around, measure up, take the bad days and good days, see where you are coming from. Probably a lot of hard work. I don't blame them. But you know what. They don't get the hard work from me either. That they have to earn. Otherwise, it's water down a duck's back. Easy come, easy go.

Recently I read this story of a Chinese farmer:

Once there was a Chinese farmer who worked his poor farm together with his son and their horse. When the horse ran off one day, neighbors came to say, “How unfortunate for you!” The farmer replied, “Maybe yes, maybe no.”

When the horse returned, followed by a herd of wild horses, the neighbors gathered around and exclaimed, “What good luck for you!” The farmer stayed calm and replied, “Maybe yes, maybe no.”

While trying to tame one of wild horses, the farmer’s son fell, and broke his leg. He had to rest up and couldn’t help with the farm chores. “How sad for you,” the neighbors cried. “Maybe yes, maybe no,” said the farmer.

Shortly thereafter, a neighboring army threatened the farmer’s village. All the young men in the village were drafted to fight the invaders. Many died. But the farmer’s son had been left out of the fighting because of his broken leg. People said to the farmer, “What a good thing your son couldn’t fight!” “Maybe yes, maybe no,” was all the farmer said.

I have a tendency to jump to the worst conclusions when any event occurs. Oh no, why this! Why now! Why me! That’s my reaction. But when I think about it a bit after my initial disappointment, I realize that the event was actually not so bad and might even lead to something much better. In other words, what I thought was a curse was actually a blessing in disguise! There is something for me to learn from this story of the farmer. What seems good might actually not be so good and what seems bad at first sight, might actually not be so terrible. I suppose then one must cultivate a bit of a stoic cum open-minded attitude? Or hope that even in what looks bad one might be able to find hidden opportunities? Maybe one must look at every event as a door that could lead in many directions rather than a dead end or the end of the story. The story continues… until the end… and we in many ways have the power to shape its trajectory until we can’t no more.

I had a very eventful day the day before.

It started off very well with a kind lady offering me a lift to the campus on a DiDi (Chinese Uber). In Hindi we say 'naeki aur puch puch', meaning if you are doing a good deed, why ask! And not being an enthusiastic walker myself, it is like giving water to a thirsty man in a desert, I guess! Hehe! So, I happily arrive and go to my lecture room with a chirpier air because I wasn't dampened by a walk and sweat. Soon after I get there and start to settle in, I realise that my watch is missing. Normally I might have thought that I have forgotten whether I wore it or not but, on this day, I specifically remembered wearing the watch. I wondered if it came off when I got out of the car. I wished I had walked because then there was hope of retracing my steps and finding it. All I could think of--though I knew I should really be thinking about my lecture due to start in half an hour--was the history of the watch. I remembered the exact day I bought it 10 years ago. It was the most expensive watch I have ever bought though not expensive for a watch by objective standards. I thought about how beautiful it still was though it had been so many years. I yearned to have it back. I looked everywhere in the hope it was right there somewhere. You might wonder why such nostalgia and emotion for a watch... I could easily buy a new one and a more expensive one too. I suppose I develop a very deep attachment to things that I have had over a long period of time, and in a way I have them by my side for so long because I am attached to them. It's not about the money or not finding a new one. I started and finished my lecture with a very heavy heart. I had another lecture in an hour, and it was starting to get a bit cold. As I was getting my shawl from the back of the chair where I had placed it, lo and behold, there lay my watch under the chair! I was so jubilant to find it! It was almost a miracle to me. I found it hard to focus on my next lecture now because I couldn't help but think about how we realize the value of things only when they are gone... not that I did not realize its value but it was one of those things that I was using every day without ever reflecting about its significance to me. And suddenly in the space of two hours I couldn't think of anything else...

In the afternoon as I was starting to walk back home with my music on as usual, it turns out that one of my earphones for my iPod had suddenly stopped working. It was perfectly fine the day before and suddenly out of the blue, it was dead! I thought I could order one from Taobao but the quality of products can be quite tricky, so I decided to check with my Admin if they had one lying around for staff use. I couldn't believe how helpful they were because though they didn't have it, they said they'd order it and I should have it soon. Again, I thought about the history of my iPod... It was 14 years since I had purchased it, a time when there was no Bluetooth or any of that jazz. When they asked me if I wanted Bluetooth, I had to actually explain I wanted something really basic! I remembered the really long journey I have had with this iPod... how it has made my life and more so walks so enjoyable! It has all the music I need, and I cannot think of parting with it. But as I was thinking these thoughts, I also thought about how the same sort of thoughts had run through my head just that morning. And this incident too involved a thing and a helpful person though in a different sequence...

It seemed like an odd turn of events to happen on the same day, but I didn't know yet there was one more turn to come. I intended to collect some of my items from the Taobao collection point near my house. This is a bit like the Amazon collection points though here it looks more like a busy post-office with loads of packages and 3-4 people helping to run the shop. I assume these people might be a family because I see a middle-aged man, middled-aged lady, a teenager, and a small boy hanging around usually. They look at the collection number on our phones, help search for the item in the whole shop the arrangement of which completely beats me, scan the item which registers the collection in my phone immediately, etc. They probably help me more because I can't make any sense of a lot of it whereas many others seem to magically find what they want, scan their thing, and go their way. When I got there the place was empty. I had quite a few things to collect. As I was waiting for my things inside the shop, a longer queue was forming outside, and I noticed one of my students come in! I was a bit embarrassed to see my student in this place but he was standing right in front of me so there was no choice but to greet him. We started making some pleasantries in English. People in the queue meanwhile are fascinated to see two people, one a foreigner, talking in English! It's not very common in this small little town. To my utter embarrassment, the shop folks are unable to find one of my items and start communicating with my student in Chinese to get him to explain to me the situation! Had he not been there I would have used my translator app to communicate but these folks saw us talking in English and decided to communicate with him about my stuff! The missing item was a pair of shoes and though they were saying I might have collected them earlier, I knew I hadn't. Some back-and-forth dialogue ensues with my student acting as translator. The icing on the cake was when he saw I was slightly anxious, and said reassuringly, 'We will sort this together!' I was quite touched really, though also inwardly dying of embarrassment about inadvertently embroiling him in this situation! At one point he said that this must be an unpleasant experience for me. I had to say it would be an interesting one once they find my shoes! hehe! Which they did in a while. So, there I had my third epiphany of the day... something going wrong with a product, some helpful person in the mix!

Made me wonder what the design was behind this day ;)

I have been mulling over the way people see loyalty. For some people being loyal to someone or something (country, for example) is about seeing it as perfect. They either do not see imperfections or they don't admit it to themselves or confront it in any way. For such people the concept of being critical of someone they are loyal to is alien. For me personally, criticism is not spared for people I love or admire; I do not have to see them as perfect. I will critique them upfront, not behind their backs. In a way I have weighed in on their imperfections and in spite of all of it, I feel loyal to them. I do not admire them or feel loyalty because they are perfect; it is because in spite of their imperfections they are still exemplary in my eyes. They are still worth admiring, looking up to, being loyal to.

It seems to me that people of the former type will find it hard to understand or will misunderstand my propensity for critiquing people whom I admire because they might assume that my critiques mean I do not really hold them in high regard. That is not true at all though. To me admiring someone in spite of their imperfections is a truer measure of admiration as opposed to admiring someone whom I imagine to be all perfect. I would think that when people create an imaginary perfect version of a person and admire it, their admiration or loyalty is contingent on the continuation of a myth. It's fragile in that sense. In my case admiration and loyalty is rarely given because it does follow from seeing someone/thing for what it really is, and few things will pass the check point. But once they pass, their position is more or less intact.

A Hindi metaphor comes to mind. They say "chaand mein bhi daag hote hain", which means that even the beautiful moon has spots on it. I would think that someone who loves the moon because they assume it to be flawless does not really love the moon... someone who loves the moon in spite of its minor flaws genuinely does...

They say love can cross language barriers. I don’t know about love but you know what else can cross language barriers? Shopping. Yes! I have on this day been initiated into the world of ‘Taobao’. It was quite a feat to get entry I should say, I mean enter into using it. Firstly I needed an Alipay account. Which is another story, and which is why it has taken me awhile to get here. Taobao is a Chinese site with no English language option but when you open the browser on your PC in Google Chrome, you can use the built-in Translate feature. It translates the site into English but not perfectly obviously. It is a bit funny to find the word ‘baby’ all over the site for ‘product’. More funny that I am now thinking of buying this baby or that baby… hehe. Then it happens that certain things like tracking your package and so on works better on the phone app. But there is no way to get the app to translate into English. The app itself seems to be much better designed and configured to browse products – or babies! – but you have to make sense of it in Chinese. It’s not that hard to figure out  that you are looking at a purse or a dress or a bag of course… and even the women demo’ing some of this stuff in Chinese can be understood to an extent if you watch their posing and gesturing. That’s what I mean. Not having a word of Chinese has not stopped me from making it into Taobao. I managed to buy a few things today with the help of a Chinese colleague in this first instance. I couldn’t help telling him that I can see myself getting progressively poorer, now that I am onto this ;)

“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.

“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

~ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

I feel a bit of a sombre mood on me. As if a dark cloud is slowly gathering over the world… everything is getting swept under it. If I look around me or if I look farther afield it’s as if we are just cautiously taking it one day at a time, trying not to topple the apple cart but also aware that the cart is balanced quite precariously. And it’s only a matter of time. I wish things were different, everyone was happy, everyone was healthy, we were all going to work chirpily and looking forward to the impending holidays, just a lot of fun and food and then back to doing things we enjoyed,… wish it was that kind of world, if you know what I mean. But instead, it feels like we do not know what tomorrow will bring and all we have is today. That too in short stock. I have never been much of a today person and maybe that’s why it affects me more. I look at the past and I look into the future. If I had to put my finger on when the world’s mood changed and things started going downhill, I would probably say Covid… it’s as if after Covid nothing’s really been going right. Nothing’s quite the same. But as Tolkein said, maybe there is no use wishing all this hadn’t happened and things could go back to how they were and take a better turn from there. Things could go back to that point and follow a different route altogether. No point wishing… All we can do is make the best use of what is in front of us. I don’t know what that is in my present mood. Maybe it will come…

There is an uncle I see as I walk back from the campus to my temporary apartment (where I am based now in China). I say ‘uncle’ because though he might not be tremendously old (given that I am not all that young now!), he kind of gives me the vibe I have associated with ‘uncles’ growing up. His job seems to be to sweep the long paved footpath on my way where loads of leaves fall, sometimes rain, sometimes snow. Depending on what time of the day I am walking back, I see him a little bit earlier on the path or a little further down. What I found really striking about this uncle and perhaps why I thought of him as ‘uncle’, is that he always stops his sweeping when he notices me and gives me a very wide smile. He seems to gesture something with his expression which I assume is a greeting. This is quite out of the ordinary for me because the Chinese as a rule seem to have very static expressions for passers-by. I have passed many people on my way but he is the only one who actually smiles and that too so widely and warmly. Sometimes if I interact with a person a bit like a shopkeeper they may smile but it doesn’t seem to be something they do with strangers on the street. I thought it was quite nice to be smiled at like that especially after a workday. This happened a few times. Yesterday I left work a bit late. The thought came to me as I was walking back that I must have missed uncle. And lo and behold, as I was taking a turn on the street, he was there sitting in the driver’s seat of what resembles a rickshaw in India (or tuk-tuk in some other places). Over here people from lower-income backgrounds (farmers, small shop owners etc.) seem to be using this mode of transport for carting goods around. They are not available for transport to regular people as they are in India (sadly!). So as I was passing by, uncle gestured to me to sit in his rickshaw – I assume to drop me wherever I was going. That’s what the gesture looked like to me as he pointed to the passenger seat with his customary smile. Now, having grown up in Mumbai, and even otherwise being a very cautious person by nature, I am just not someone who spontaneously gets into a stranger’s vehicle. I did not doubt he is a good and kind person but somehow I did not feel it would be appropriate. Not to mention the fact that there was a language barrier. I later reflected that the way I found it quite charming to be greeted by a Chinese person in this way every other day, who knows he might have found it quite refreshing to be greeted too… by a foreign looking person? Anyway, I just waved my hand to him as a thank you gesture as well as a gesture that I am happy walking…

Against all this backdrop, I had been meaning to ask uncle if I could take a photo of him. Reason being I thought it would be a nice moment to capture on my trip and I could share it on my FB as an everyday moment too. But something about doing this made me uneasy. I couldn’t put a finger on it. And today I read something that gave me clarity about my discomfort. It was about how we tend to take pictures or videos of people around us these days and post them to the wider public without either taking their permission to do so or even if we do, they probably do not understand the ramifications in terms of how large an audience it was going to. Such pictures could always travel more widely once they are put out. And also, there are some people, people like us, whom we would be sensitive to about what pictures we take, where we post them etc., but with people like this uncle, it was almost like I was treating him like a token rather than a person…? Was I doing that? Why did I think it was okay to do that? And I assume it would be the same if it was say a rickshaw-walla or a flower vendor in India? I mean, in my defense, I would probably be capturing these pics to show a slice of life or a flavour of a place and not because I did not care about them as humans. But it still kind of makes me feel that there is an element of disrespect in that, if I do it without their full understanding or consent of what I am doing. After thinking through all this I do not feel it is right to take a pic of uncle. Perhaps my memories will have to serve… and of course this post :)

A roof over my head

Food in my belly

Books to read

Things to write

Music to listen

Warm bed to lay down

Pleasant walks

Clothes to indulge

My love of taste

Loving souls and brilliant minds

Sweet and kind presences

Surround me

All seems more

Much more

Than I could ask...

When I count my blessings

It would be foolish

To sigh

For the few missing things

I might have really liked

I started from little

Almost nothing

And have so much

More than I

Could have ever dreamt of...

My lesson is to cherish

The little and big things

That make life

Worth living

If there is more to come

I shall meet it gladly

If not

I have enough

With the hand

Fate dealt me

I have come a long way

Oh how long...

To become who I am

And still becoming

I must always remember

I am

Enough

More than

Enough...

~Me

Some time ago I was in a group situation with 5-6 other people where we all had to do a certain activity for the purpose of a discussion. Initially when 1-2 people did not do the activity, I brought it up. I felt that it did not allow us to have a meaningful discussion. I did not like having to bring it up because obviously no one likes to be ‘that guy’ but none of the others seemed to care to raise it. I am very deeply moved by questions of fairness and justice, and one of the things that motivated me to bring it up is the question of why anyone should do the activity if it’s okay for 1-2 people to not do it and get away with it? Those 1-2 people muttered some reasons for not being able to do the activity, but then again, what about the rest of us who struggled to stay up late or worked over the weekends to do it…? I just brought it up and didn’t push the matter further when they generally muttered some reasons. I thought it would discourage them from short-cutting in the future. But after a gap of few weeks, it turns out that the same 1-2 people were back at it. I actually like one of them, but it doesn’t make this irresponsible attitude any less annoying to me. This time, however, I reflected about my own feelings and stance towards all this and decided that I am going to keep quiet.

It’s not just because I don’t want to be the bad guy—though part of my reflection is about how the people who are more responsible paradoxically get the blame for being the bad guy. Sometimes I feel that if God had made me more happy-go-lucky, more laidback, more lax, more relaxed, more indisciplined, more irresponsible, less intellectually rigorous… that would have made me a more ‘popular’ person. Such a person is given a lot of leeway, a lot of benefit of doubt, a lot of rope, a lot of consideration… but funnily, if you are responsible, disciplined, committed, care about what you do, go the distance, you will be measured against a stricter standard! Or even a different invisible standard! Increasingly I feel like I cannot fight with the way of this world. And what am I to gain by fighting against it…? I lose a lot of energy, I lose a lot of emotion… and I lose my own motivation. I even start questioning if I am a good person?! Which seems like the height of the irony to me really! That people who are actually conscientious and push themselves to keep commitments have to feel this way… I mean, it would be something if people at least appreciated you for it. It would seem worth all the trouble for at least that reason. But without it, it just sometimes seems like a world I’d rather not have anything to do with… but that’s not possible so I have to find a way that works for me, that does not take too much energy out of me, too much emotion out of me, too much of my spirit out of me. If someone were to meet me where I am, I will care… But otherwise, I will let go…

When I met with the group this time, I did not bring up the fact that others hadn’t done the activity. Not surprisingly, more people hadn’t done it this time round. I did my thing and that’s what mattered to me. I had learnt something in the process of that and I had learnt something in reflecting from that. I had earned something, and I decided to focus only on that. I had also earned peace this way. And there’s a lot to be said for that…

Someone said something to me that I thought was unfair. I did not deserve the accusation. I could have defended myself. Thinking about it later, I have wondered if it’s that drastic a thing if someone thought something about me that wasn’t true. They said it so I know they think something that isn’t true. But there are many people around me or a bit distant from me who might have opinions or views they have formed that aren’t true. Would it make sense for me to go and defend myself to them…? But maybe it’s different when someone you believe should know you better or someone you want should know you as you are, holds an opinion that isn’t true. Something in you wants to bring them to a correct view. But I wonder if rational argument is the only way to do that or if it always achieves that? But if not, what other way is there? Sometimes defending oneself seems to have the opposite effect on people. They seem to think that you are ‘being defensive’ which generally means a negative. As if you are trying to defend what is indefensible. Maybe one way is to let them come to a better judgement themselves with time or more reflection or more data or more interaction with you or whatever other way they come by it. Sometimes having to defend oneself on something that should be rather evident—if they bothered to know you at all—feels pointless. Like it isn’t worth the effort. If they were someone worthy of being in your life, they should show better judgement. In such a situation perhaps not defending is to let things take the best course… either they realize their mistake soon enough without you saying a word, or they don’t and let themselves out...

Hello from China!

I was watching the movie 'The Children Act' last weekend (night before travelling). I love Emma Thompson (who plays the lead), and generally women whose personalities exude a strong character, I think. There's this dialogue which tickled me:

Fiona: It's the only place I was ever wild and free. Have you ever been wild and free, Nigel?

Nigel: uhh... no, never, thank God. I'd be hopeless at it.

I think I audibly laughed at this because I imagine I'd be hopeless at being 'wild and free' too... give me stability and routine and warm home and cosy tea any day! But then again, I suppose having these conditions is necessary for me to have my own kind of ‘wild and free’… in the head? How can I chew on something if I am busy putting out fires? On the other hand, if I enjoyed ‘wild and free’ in the world outside I’d probably not compare it to putting out fires… hehe!

In Hindi there is a saying 'Bhonkne waale kutte kaat tae nahin hain'. Roughly means 'Barking dogs don't bite'. It's a bit similar to the English saying, 'All bark and no bite'. I have been thinking about this sort of creature who makes a lot of noise but has very little substance. I suppose what I am intrigued about is how does such a person end up convincing even intelligent people with their bark?

I vaguely remember this story in the news—but there are many such stories—where this woman pretended to be a rich celebrity and conned the entire celebrity world about her credentials, looting a lot of money. On the face of it, it seems ridiculous. A person shows up with the confidence of a celebrity, throws around a fake persona with nothing whatever to back it up, and people believe her? Seems dumbfounding, right? But my observations have given me the insight that fairly sensible people can be fairly gullible if they take people on trust, if they take everything at face value. If someone comes along confidently and says they are an expert at moondust, what will you say? Most people, as I notice, will say, wow, that's interesting! Would you care to come and do a talk on moondust?(!) That is right up the confident con-person's street of course. Con-person goes and gives a waffly waffle talk on moondust. Next thing you know they are asked to give another one of these talks somewhere else. And before you know it, they are everywhere. Giving 'talks' on 'moondust'. And people are buying it hook, line, sinker. You, a minority of critical thinkers, will firstly not be comfortable sharing your critical opinion. You know that con-person does not know shit about moondust. But you cannot say that without making everyone seem like a fool. Everyone cannot be one so it must be you! And if you make the dreadful mistake of telling someone, they will not look into the con-person's credibility or their credentials to talk moondust. Instead, they will turn on you! They will question your inability to trust people at face value. They will question your intentions. They will make you seem like the bad guy for pointing out the obvious fact that you can't see the emperor's clothes! What eventually happens is the con-person's influence continues to grow at the back of all this 'bark'. So much so that at some point it will seem ludicrous to even question if there is any substance behind it all. How can there not be, how could they be all over the place if there was nothing underneath...? You see? How that celebrity con could have easily happened?

I do like the idea of nice people trusting everyone in a land of milk and honey. But we do not live in such a land. So, I feel that it is the nice people who end up letting very bad people take over. It is obviously tough to stand against barking dogs, particularly once they have fooled some people with their conning tricks. But real niceness would mean standing against in spite of. Not going with the current.

I have been a bit of a deer caught in the headlights the last few weeks. One of the strangely positive things I realize about myself is that my hyperfocus kicks in when I have high anxiety—instead of falling apart I tend to focus deeply on whatever I am doing and become extra productive at it. I become a bit more creative with my writing especially if I am emotionally charged. That is why maybe when I am most down in the dumps, I tend to come out of it with something... Maybe it is a coping strategy of sorts. Another article of mine got published last week and it was born when I was going through one of these times. It is especially close to my heart because a piece of me got written into it... Happy to share with you here, my dear readers.

So... it's time for another round of wrap-up. Another season is coming to an end, metaphorically speaking, though I feel like it quite literally. I am busy tying up some loose ends, creating new beginnings for another series, lot of things are crashing on me (like my phone and toaster!), and lot of things are building up for the audience to want to stick around for another season. If you have been paying attention to the last season at all, you know that it's almost time for me to leave for China! I travel next Sunday... and before I am back I would have travelled to more places, seen more people, done more things, tasted more stuff,... than I have in the past 8 months! I am excited to take off but nervous till I land in my new abode for the next 2.5 months. I suppose you will hear all about everything... :)

Never forget where you came from. That's what I am telling myself today. Not that there is a danger of that. It’s what keeps me grounded. When you soar higher you could easily misremember what walking feels like. You could even forget you ever walked. You could look down on all those walking below you. But if you can see yourself among them, one of those walking, you won't. The walker will always be in you, no matter how high you soar. And I believe that is a good thing. It keeps you grounded. It keeps you rooted. It helps you keep sight of the real things. Your authenticity, your humanity, your values, etc.

The other thing, be grateful for those who are there for you even in an imperfect way. I have a tendency to critique people who do stuff for me because they are doing it wrong or wobbly or inaccurately or sloppily or whatever. I ask myself if they did not do what they did, what would I have? They are at least there in whatever way they can be. I have to learn to appreciate that. I have to learn to accept people in whatever ways they show up. Showing up is the thing and they are doing that for me. Not everyone does.

I feel I have grown as a person over the years...funnily, I have come closer to understanding people the more distance I have taken… the more solitude I have embraced…grown in my self-awareness... in the rope I am ready to extend to people... in the amount of appreciation I can have for why people will do what they do... or in trying to see things from many different perspectives... obviously I will not tolerate deception, manipulation, bullshitters, backstabbers, apple polishers, and the like... but where a basic integrity is a given, I think I am more human. Or maybe it's called growing older and wiser :)

I was at a workshop recently. My rare sojourns out of my home base Lancaster! I had to prepare myself for the demands on my social energy. Being around a large group of people for whole days including meals and breaks is more than my introvert battery can handle... but preparing myself in advance helps. Of course, if you hit it off well with the people around then that makes a big difference, and it did for me. Maybe I will pick on different strands of reflections in other posts...

I always have a nagging feeling about whether I said too much after saying something out loud in a formal group. I have had to sort of accept to myself for a while now—and I imagine I have ruminated about that here—that to try to be 'normal' or say the kinds of things in the kinds of ways the normal folks say is not possible for me. To put a positive spin on it, you can lock a candle or a lightbulb in a room, but you can't lock the sun. Each thing is going to manifest its property and to let it do that is best for it. So, I did my thing in one of the concluding sessions, and as I was coming out of the room, I asked my friend (one of whom I hit it off with) if I said too much. A black fellow attendee was passing by. I mention ethnicity for a reason. He just said: 'You spoke like an academic. I hope to get there someday!' It immediately put me at ease. This friend though—though she was trying to give me a perspective—was more about how the sun can get itself to be like the candle. What I liked about the black attendee's response, succinct as it was, was the insight that being a certain kind of person was why I was in this field and even if it wasn't the general 'norm', I fit right in with this group of people! I suppose I want people around me to appreciate me for what is me... and making me try to be a candle is a colossal waste of me! It has taken me a very long part of my life to realize that the people who saw fit to make me want to change myself were actually candles who didn't know better. I no longer try to cramp myself to fit into a tinier box... I just try to be around people who are comfortable with difference and who meet everyone as they are.

Another thing that struck me though seemingly non-striking was at the last breakfast. Another black fellow attendee (why I am connecting the two reflections) finished her breakfast and was hugging this girl next to her as she was saying her good-bye. They had become friends during this time, but I hadn't had a chance to know her. I had not interacted with her at all. But as she hugged this girl opposite me, her eyes met mine, and she came round and hugged me too. She said 'I won't discriminate' as she hugged me. I found that touching and thought provoking coming from her. It was a simple phrase, but it brought up a wealth of meaning for me. One of them is that only a person who is used to being discriminated, who sees gestures extended to others but not to oneself, could have said that. It was almost when she locked eyes with me, she put herself in my shoes and saw it from her eyes, the many times people were hugged but she wasn't. I did not feel that way myself because logically she didn't know me, and I would not expect she hug me (also I am not a hugger). But I could see where she was coming from in that gesture and those words...

Both these individuals inspired me with their wisdom... they barely used a sentence but still went into so much depth.

A curious analogy sprung in my head, and I HAD to put it down. I am writing something terribly philosophical... when am I not? ;) I want to complete it by the end of this week. I sort of think of myself as a third person sometimes when I have to get certain things done... as in I think about how to get me to do what I want, what would work, and so on. I know that pushing myself is not a good idea. Not because I won't do it but just that in the long term this is not a good strategy. I go this route only when there is absolutely no option. When it comes to writing well, I feel like it needs to be natural. And this is where my analogy popped up. I think it's a bit like boiling milk. It's going to take its own time. If I turn up the heat, the milk might spill. So the best course is to let it take its time. Be persevering but patient. It's a balance. If it takes more time, it does. I have to tell myself these things because I like very timely and neat closures and this weekend would mean a neat closure. However, I want to prepare for the fact that it might not close... but that's okay. What matters is a good outcome... 

I thought I was never going to encounter at least this particular tragedy in my life. I have gone until now averting it when most of my friends and foes have likely fallen to it. I had my tricks and techniques, mind you. It wasn’t purely an accident or good luck. I think I have had occasion to mention it on this blog before though I am not sure. Something of this import one does not forget to mention for all these years. But finally, maybe it was complacency, I had let my guard down probably. Enough of the suspense, I can hear you say. Well, my dear readers, the hairdresser ignored my instruction to ‘maintain my hair length’ and chopped it off willy nilly. It was too late by the time I caught on to it :( I was increasingly getting the dreary feeling that I was seeing a lot more hair going snippety snip but the fear of that being the case was overpowered by what would happen if I stopped the guy mid-snip? It couldn’t get worse but it could! I do not know when my hair has been this short… perhaps not since my school days? :’)

I am, all said and done, proud of the way I have handled a calamity of this magnitude. If you knew how much I hate change, you would really understand the magnitude of it. So given everything, I admit I am proud of myself. At first I did feel like the earth had fallen over me… and then I reminded myself of a point I have been making to myself lately. That because I am never going to initiate a change myself, any change that gets initiated almost on its own must be considered part of some divine plan. As if God is saying, ‘This is for your own good. Just try it out.’ And I am responding to it with a gingerly, ‘I hear you, let’s see how this goes’. Instead of crying and wailing and wishing things were the same. And this is really changing my attitude for the better. Perhaps—and this is something well known—the very fact that I am taking things with this attitude is making things seem better than otherwise. I suppose if you see things with rose-coloured glasses, they are going to look rosy? It’s not rocket science, right? Well, I am getting used to seeing myself in the mirror without my signature top bun. I had grown a bit tired of my usual hairstyle, to be honest, but I would never have decided to chop off my hair for that reason. So maybe there is something to my idea… that some necessary changes get kicked off when we do not show signs of making those changes ourselves :) 

On this subject, I love this episode from Fleabag: That Hilarious Haircut Scene from Fleabag | Prime Video - YouTube

The fear of missing out is real. Particularly when these days there are so many messages blasting at us from all directions about what we missed out on or are missing out on. It's likely these messages are fake... trying to create an illusion of a fabulous life everyone else is missing out on. Social media has made us into creatures who, instead of enjoying a thing in itself, are more concerned about telling others all about it. You see it everywhere. I remember watching the fireworks at the Burj Khalifa on New Year's eve and everyone around me was busy recording that moment. No one was interested in watching the fireworks as such. It seems to me this craze to show off or show others what we are in on or ahead of has taken some deeper joy out of our lives.

I want to consciously cultivate a sort of detached attitude to things that I am seemingly 'missing out on'. Not because there will be many other chances to do that thing or that thing wasn't so great anyway or anything like that but because... in a very essential sense, you can't miss out on anything that's meant for you. This I want to do along with being more present to the things that I do participate in. The fewer things I participate in the more fully I can be present as well. By being more present, I mean being present for itself, present for the direct meaning or joy I derive from it, and not for the sake of something else. Not because I don't want to 'miss out', not because I want to tell others about what fantastic thing I was a part of, not because I want to put pics on social media and garner likes. That has its place unfortunately in this world where making is not enough, you have to market as well. But as a rule I want to cultivate this attitude.

I was reading this interview with Vladimir Nabakov. This particular bit stuck out for me because English is a language that I think in and even feel in to a large extent but it’s not a ‘natural language’ for me… in the sense that it’s not a language I learnt from my mother or a language that I speak in with her or with my siblings. The language I did speak first (Konkani) is very limited for me because it is not a language which I read in, or learnt in, or spoke to with anyone outside of my immediate and extended family. It almost feels like there is a gap that exists for me in terms of language, that if I had to write a play with dialogue and things like that, I wouldn’t be able to have the characters speak naturally in English or in my mother tongue or any other language. Makes me think about how native English speakers—by that I do not mean people who have a better command of English or wider vocabulary than I do—but people who spoke English out of the womb, with their mothers and family and friends later, would have a massive advantage in this department. They would be able to write their characters and their speech ‘naturally’ in the way it is spoken by ordinary people even if in a small English or American town or wherever. One could always argue that people elsewhere could write in a natural way in their own language but that wouldn’t really be the case in countries where colonialism intervened. Our relationship with our own languages never remained the same I suppose, and we suffer from this liminal experience of language to this day…

Excerpts from the interview

INTERVIEWER

Do you feel you have any conspicuous or secret flaw as a writer?

NABOKOV

The absence of a natural vocabulary. An odd thing to confess, but true. Of the two instruments in my possession, one—my native tongue—I can no longer use, and this not only because I lack a Russian audience, but also because the excitement of verbal adventure in the Russian medium has faded away gradually after I turned to English in 1940. My English, this second instrument I have always had, is however a stiffish, artificial thing, which may be all right for describing a sunset or an insect, but which cannot conceal poverty of syntax and paucity of domestic diction when I need the shortest road between warehouse and shop. An old Rolls-Royce is not always preferable to a plain jeep.

I have come up with four types of people:

1. Those who are humble and have a lot to be humble about

2. Those who are confident and have a lot to be confident about

3. Those who are confident and have nothing to be confident about

4. Those who are humble and have nothing to be humble about

The 3rd type seems to me the one that perhaps most of us tend to loathe. They are the empty vessels making the most noise. You probably get fooled by their veneer of confidence initially, because they strut around as if they have earned it, but over time their façade wears off. By then they have faked it till they have made it. Which is why you sometimes find them in senior positions. What I dislike most about them is their lack of self-awareness. They genuinely do not see how hollow they are.

The 4th type is the one that perhaps most of us admire. They seem to be oblivious to their own brilliance and that makes them all the more charming. Their higher qualities do not intimidate you because they seem to have this air of being an equal with you, whoever you are. I have met very, very few people of this type and I feel lucky to have met them. No matter how much I try to emulate them I can't - I think you need to be made of better stuff.

The first and second types I think people are more divided about.

I don't mind the 1st type because they have what I really like in people. Self-awareness. They seem to have a good estimation of themselves and in their humility might actually give less credit to themselves than they deserve. It warms me even more towards them. Their conscientiousness.

The 2nd type I think gets a bad rep. Some people mistake confidence for conceit and that goes against these types. Unlike the humble brilliant types, this type might have a tendency to intimidate people. Instead of making you feel like an equal and comfortable in your own skin, they might trigger your insecurities. No one likes to feel like they do not measure up to a standard. I personally do not mind this type because again they are self-aware. They are not empty like the 3rd type. If you get past the intimidation and are not the 3rd type yourself, there is scope for learning if not a connection.

No goodbyes

No farewells

In the end

When you have to go

You leave

Without a trace

Without

So much as

A hopeful

Word

That a

Tomorrow

Exists

Where

We will meet

Again

And continue

As if

This interruption

Was

Momentary

In the vast

Space

Of time

But no,

No such thing

You just go,

Sometimes

With a bang

Other times

With a whimper

Never to be seen

Anymore

Leaving that

Dull ache

In those

You touched

-Forever

~Me

A former boss of mine used to tell this story: “A man came upon a construction site where three people were working. He asked the first, “What are you doing?” and the man replied: “I am laying bricks.” He asked the second, “What are you doing?” and the man replied: “I am building a wall.” As he approached the third, he heard him humming a tune as he worked, and asked, “What are you doing?” The man stood, looked up at the sky, and smiled, “I am building a cathedral!”

I have always found this story quite inspiring. It sort of explains why two people doing the same job might approach it very differently—one sees it as just laying another brick whereas another might be motivated by some sort of vision that is hard to relay to another, if they don’t have the same inner perception. You can tell a person something is a rose but you can’t make them perceive its beauty, can you? Perhaps that’s what Nietzsche meant when he said, “And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”

Back! I have travelled and travelled and travelled some more and finally glad to be back ‘home’ in the UK. It’s been an experience and I am ready to put my feet up and… no, not rest… hehe… do some reflective work in a quiet zone. No doubt I will be writing about it as I chew on things…

Normally I would have put up a customary post on my big day of the year. But I have been thinking—among many other things I have been thinking—that I shouldn’t be so much of a slave to routine or ritual for the sake of them. There’s no harm in being a bit haphazard and chaotic to mix things up, is there? I am not going to be too much of these things because that wouldn’t be me. But I mean, there’s no harm being a bit less ‘I must do this because I must’ and a bit more, ‘go with the flow’ if you know what I mean. Maybe that’s something I am going to try this year. I made a small start when I started dropping off movies on Netflix midway when I found them boring. Isn’t that normal, you might ask. It is but I used to feel a tad bit guilty, maybe a crossover of how I would feel guilty if I didn’t finish a book, as if it was due to lack of discipline or lack of an attention span or something. Needless to say, I pride myself on these kinds of things, on being someone who will go the distance no matter what it takes. But I guess there’s no harm in taking stock of whether some things are really worth making the journey. And some things just aren’t. That just means you have more time and energy for things that are. So I suppose it doesn’t go against my grain at all if I really add up everything.