Dismantling our truth

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“ If we are going through a major crisis, it means we are going through a major dismantling of reference points. There is nothing more creative than dismantling reference points, because the reference points do not represent the truth.” 

Stephen Schwartz

Anguish in the air is palpable…As a mother I feel it more because she is away from home in the university and yes, she was in a concert in London a few months back and is excited about another gig in December again, as I am sure the youngsters in the Bataclan Hall were…

Just another fun evening to enjoy and be with friends! 

Just that it ended in anything but…..As it did for other people in Paris, Beirut, Islamabad, Mumbai, Boston, NYC and the numerous other cities and townships across the world...

Can feel the helplessness and frustration in the discussions among friends, in WA groups and on media at large…

How else do people give a voice to something over which they have no control?

Who do they reach out to…for consolation and just to feel that things are FINE? 

We know very well it could have been any one of us…

I was, after all, one hour too early from the bomb which went off near the passport office in Worli in Mumbai blasts in 1993...

We were just fortunate…that we were not present at the wrong place at the wrong time!

Perhaps time to question more deeply…

Does it matter whether the terrorists were Greek or Syrian refugees?

Do we now prepare ourselves for the next city where indiscriminate gunshots/bomb blasts will terminate lives ?

What is escalating this organised terrorism?

What leads seemingly sane youth to commit heinous crimes such as these?

What socio-political and economic dynamics fuels this phenomena …how else is it burgeoning so rampantly?

Are we so blind that we do not know that proliferation of weapons and encouraging jihad in one region will reverberate with hatred elsewhere? 

Who are these elusive politicians who are supposed to wave the magic wand and make the world “ a better place?” and for heavens sake, 'What is this “better place”?

Is retaliation and fighting back the only solution to such a barbaric act or do we think there is a quick-fix one-shot solution to terrorism or we have lost all hope of solution? 

This is not a crisis for one city and/or one nation/continent.

Whether we like it or not, terrorism and organised hate attacks are the new World Wars , completely a world wide phenomena and we can’t pretend to live in our safe havens…which aren’t anyway safe any more!!

Time for us to lift our buried heads and stop the pretence that ‘THIS' doesn’t impact us…

It does !!!!

Whether its a young boy who died as he was refused a refuge 

or a gun-toting jihadi who uses religion and hate as a refuge to exacerbate his hatred...

Time to dismantle our thoughts around hate politics,
divisiveness and rigid beliefs about ourselves
and the world we are living in
and to look at the truth more realistically and in the eye

Terrorism and divisiveness does not exist out there...
it is very much present inside us, in our unforgiving stances and unresolved hatred...
From the racism inside of us which wants to feel superior and rule over the other!

Perhaps small steps in resolving these resentment within
can contribute much more than jingoism and false hopes of candlelit marches! 

Swantantrata Divas....What does it really mean to me?

“Dus ka do…Le lo Na, Didi.

Chalo discount main deti hoon,

Dus Ka teen!”

“Two for Rs ten!

Please buy.

I can give you discount.

Buy three for Rs ten.”

The sale of small paper flags at the traffic signals in Mumbai just before the Republic and Independence Day, is a common sight.

When Soumya was younger, we would enthusiastically buy these symbols of our Indian-ness, eager as I was, to teach her about her roots and what it means to be an Indian. Soon I realized that this was not a good idea!

Once the Independence Day was over, the flag lived a neglected, banished existence…rolling from one corner of the house, to other…gathering dust …and I did not know how to put it away. Throwing away the national flag in dustbin, even though it was a symbolic one, seemed discourteous…even blasphemous!!!

When I was younger, Independence Day meant the mandatory rising up early and going to school for the flag hoisting. I still get goosebumps when I recollect how, as the School Captain, I was made to hoist the flag in front of the School assembly.  Perhaps it was the thrill of being the chosen one… or the intangible sense of pride I felt, as I touched the rope and felt the marigold flowers being showered on my head, the feeling was electrifying...

Over the years 15^th August for me has become one of those distinct days in August which has the most ‘happening’ Independence Day Sales in the shopping malls, or when it happens to fall on a Friday or a Monday, becomes that extended weekend when we can head to Goa or Matheran for a quick break from work.

With the advent of the social media, the celebration of Indianness is even more real time and in your face! The DPs are changed on 14^th August midnight and the tricolor flashed on our Facebook pages to celebrate our bharatiyta. All of this lasts for a day, before the next festivity, the next flavor of the times, takes over!

I wonder what is the Indianness that I want to reflect on and celebrate this 69^th year of Independence?

Is it the immense pride I experience when I hear that Sunder Pichai the newly appointed CEO of Google is an Indian by origin?  Or do I celebrate that India’s first Mars mission, which was blasted off in 2014 cost only Rs. 4.5 billion?

Do I feel embarrassed by the fact that India ranked 94^th out of 176 countries in the Corruption Perception Index of a survey by Transparency International in 2013?

Or feel inspired that that there are people like Kailash Satyarthi who work hard and selflessly, almost unnoticed and unrecognized, till an international agency highlights their achievements?

Do I hang my head in shame and embarrassment when I watch the elected leaders of one of world’s largest democracy bicker and fight in the parliament house like irresponsible children?  

And then closer to home –

What is it that is Indian about me?

How do I define my connection to my unique roots?

I realize that paradoxes in the India that I live in are, perhaps, very akin to the contradictions, which exist inside me.

Perhaps the bharatiyta for me is the deepest sense of pride I feel in being connected to my roots, to this amazingly spirited and spiritual country, its eclectic take on life and its diversity. 

Like the collective, perhaps I am chasing some defunct ideals and principles which need to questioned, personalized and owned up to, rather than blindly accepted because they have been passed on from centuries.

There is an experience of abundance of love, connections and warmth in relationships here, yet there is stubbornness in taking responsibility and a dependency on others to deliver!

My Indianness is the whole chalta hai attitude... the inability to go down the route of commitment and discipline which can make me excel. It is this huge talent, yet a general disbelief around my capabilities.

Independence and connection to my Indianness in the truest sense would be to break the shackles of these beliefs…walk my talk and live my life from an authentic space!

Where I need to exercise my muscle, is the muscle of acceptance…the need to appreciate, embrace and even celebrate the different, the unusual, the nonconformist in me and others…rather than follow the obvious, run of the mill herd mentality.

Can I connect to what I truly believe about life, rituals and pass them onto Soumya and others with genuine connection and appreciation of how it plays out in my life? 

Can I stop conveniently hiding behind others, to shine? 

Can I for one, believe in my talent and ability to deliver as a mother, wife, daughter and a career woman and step out of the web of doubts?

On this Swantrata divas, time for me perhaps to connect to my personal and very unique take on my independence!

"Can you just hold me?"

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" Can you just hold me?" 

The words did not register at first, caught as I was in the throes of anger.

The fight started over something small and insignificant.

I don't even recall what it was.

It snowballed into both of us out-shouting each other in the middle of the night...
Hurling accusations which seem silly now...
Venting frustrations at each other, and at life!

The world suddenly seemed a lonely place and the emotions welled up.

" I have invested twenty five years in this relationship. 
I certainly deserve better." 
I heard myself sobbing out the words, whilst trying to wipe my runny nose.

" Can you just hold me?"

His voice penetrated through the haze.

I found my connection...and my ground.

Musical Glee !

I am glad the bus driver was

erratic,

rude 

and inconsistent in his daily pick up at 7.30 a.m
and
the auto drivers highly unreliable in showing up! 

The result was that I was forced to drive Soumya to school...all through the last few years of her school.

As we navigated through the potholed lanes of New Link Road, Andheri... through the early morning traffic, we  discovered a common love for music...

her type
my type
our type :)
We forged a new relationship which transcended time....and 'generation-gap' biases.

As soon as the key was put in the ignition and the radio turned up, we were  transported  to an indescribable space...

God Bless RJ Malishka and her shendi,  Ashok Advani and his smoother than wine voice , the bubbly Keisha , Bruno Mars, Lata Mangeshkar , RD Burman, Amit Trivedi , Lady Gaga, Ed Sheeran and Jason Mraz  who hummed and crooned , yoodled or yelped depending upon the mellifluousness of the voice...or the orchestration of the instruments and words!

the beats reverberated in our small space and enveloped us in their warmth.

We were two kids who were cocooned in their private sound bubble and sing-a-long ( much to the amusement of the other motorists, I am sure  :) till we reached the school gates!

Who would have thought that I would enjoy the beats of BAD ROMANCE and Katie Perry or that Soumya would find RD Burman numbers, 'Hot' ?

"Today I dont wanna do anything
I just wanna lay in my bed!....drawled Bruno Mars

" Somethings changed within me, something is not the same...
I am through with playing by the rules of the game..." crooned Ibene...

"Hey Mom! This is Ibene ....She played Rachel's mother in Glee Season 1!".....
"Oh ! did she ?"
" Fantastic voice na!

"I want to break free ...We don't need no education....." 

I wish you were asked as students what do you want to study. 
Have you ever used calculus in life ? 
Why do you need to study that ?

Music became our common conversation triggers which seamlessly opened up other discussions, about school , teachers, boys, growing up pangs ,  dirt on Mumbai roads...

I did not need to sermonise or advise or guide her as a superior...just converse with her about the silliest of topics and the most profound of life queries...or the routine mom daughter arguments. ..Music always forming a seamless comforting space to weave these memories for me!

Today when Soumya is far far away from me, listening to music of her choice,  tucked in cosily in her hostel room...I do not have the same 7.30 routine...

Many days I am just about waking up that time as there is no morning rush...just an unstructured day, working from home.

I cannot but help feeling blessed for the Sound of Music in our lives and all those innumerable talented singers, song writers and musicians who deepened my bond with Soumya and with MUSIC.

Letting our hair down...

It's strange how busy all of us have become...

Were at Anupama and Vinayak's home for an old friends get-together!

Pizza and Old Monk on  the hostel terrace has over the years has metamorphosed to Single malt and ghar ka khana with diet restrictions.

As the evening progressed ,
with more than a couple of drinks downed,
realized that connecting is truly simple...
laughing over silly things,
exchanging notes about kids and maids,
discussing Sachin's retirement from cricket
the guys doing the corporate note-exchanges...

n then it was music time
with the familiar " Summer of 69 " and " Born in USA"
and all the tapori " Govinda numbers...
all in our besura hoarse unified voices or

some mellifluous ones :)

Driving back later that night I was realising how automated my life had become in recent times,
even letting the hair down had become templated and predictable.

But this one was was different....

no agenda
to please
show off or
pretend...

or socialise for the heck of it...

Even in the selfies which we clicked there was an irreverence and silliness
The pout did not need to look purrrfect

I realised how much I have been missing this unstructured agenda-less connections in recent times.

Who am I Vs. What am I?

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When a child is born he is pure love and truth, at one with the existence!

The child is created in love and is totally self expressive and truthful.

It expresses its needs by laughing , crying and being honest about his likes and dislikes.

He is clear of WHO HE IS and does not need any label, status symbol or degree to reconfirm or prove that. He just revels in the moment and is totally himself, with everyone around...no discrimination there.

As the child grows up to be an adult , he starts noticing the  “what’s” of life : Money , Status, Class,  Education, Power : he starts using these to identify self … ‘I am richer than my friend’, ‘I am from South Bombay and my father is a rich businessman,’ ‘My degree from Harvard shows that I am superior to others..’ etc. and this goes on and on as no acquisition is complete in filling the void of adequacy…

The journey becomes an exercise of proving how good he is, how much better off than friend/neighbor/siblings….External symbols, qualifications, holidays, material possessions become the props to define WHAT HE IS in life.

He begins cheating, lying, comparing , showing off , networking to become something that he is not...love and truth which defined his simple existence, get tossed out of the window!

The person who was content being himself feels lost if he does not have ‘x’ number of contacts in his linkedin profile , is not seen holidaying in an exotic location or if he does not get invited to the most “happening’ party in town. His worth is measured by whether he is a vice-president of a multinational company jetsetting across the globe or an ordinary middle-class citizen travelling by train.

If I reflect back on my life
I can clearly see how I have moved away from WHO I WAS to WHAT ALL DO I POSSESS ? I have defined myself with what I possess, how well is my husband doing in his career and can I project that well to my friends, how I am better off/worse off than many of my friends, how I need to buy another something expensive to make my friends envy me.

Many a moment has been spent in anguish and jealousy when I have made this comparison and joined this race.

Today I ask my self : Why do I need something outside of me to define me?

Stripped of all the trappings/symbols/possessions which define me : WHO AM I  but warmth and love and existence!