All in a day’s work

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“So this is it! I have to let go!”

I am pretty sure everyone would have experienced this feeling at some point in life. Many may not have said it out loud or even to themselves. But the feeling is very common. The realization that there is nothing more you can do…

At times, this is the most painful feeling. Especially when the realization hits us on the face so abruptly that we get no time to let the feeling sink in slowly. A state of shock or sadness follows this. These are the kind of problems that have no options left to compromise with.

At other times, it has been long time coming and we took our time to let it sink in. At these times, this feeling is a sense of relief. It is not all about perspective, I guess. It is more about how time heals every wound. “Ripping off the tape with one pull” theory rarely works well with emotions. These need to be sorted out. Every aspect of it dissected and examined until it gets accepted and cleared.

Over thinking a problem is the cause of most cases of depression. But not thinking about a problem doesn’t make it go away either. They just go back into hibernation only to come back again  and hit us on the face so hard that we lose our senses. And there is no escape!

I am at one such crossroad now. The biggest irony of my situation now is that I do not know which category this belongs to. Was it abrupt or was it long time coming?  I hope to find out soon. Both recovery will be equally painful though. The emotions are so strong that they need to be sorted out slowly. But the emotions are so strong that there is fear of a relapse during the process. Tough times these are.

Which brings me back into blogging after ages. I have lots to say. I have lots to share. Not sure where to begin. Let’s just say that I am going through the Empty Nest Syndrome. And, as I have sadly discovered myself, one of the main side effects of this syndrome is too much time to overthink. The past has been running a marathon in my mind for the last  two months since the syndrome began. That’s more than four decades of my roller coaster of a life. Imagine the clutter and the chaos. Declutter and orgainze. That’s the plan. I am doing it the only way I know. One blog post at a time…

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Happiness Quotient

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It doesn’t really mean anything if I say that I am happy. On the contrary, there is an inherent presence of sadness in that statement. There is no limit to the varied emotions that a person can experience. Happiness is just one minute piece of the entire emotional puzzle that our life is. Don’t you think so?

Sometimes a tear can express more happiness than a smile can. A smile , as it is widely accepted,  most of the time conceals terrible sadness. People who are exuberant in showcasing love and affection, need not necessarily be good. Just like not all  blunt and straight forward people are bad and emotionless.

So how can one claim to be happy and not be able to express it in ways other than words. A happy person is not identified by the smile on the face, it is by the warmth in their eyes. A blooming flower is a pretty sight, it brings about a smile on many faces. It is the happiness of a new beginning. A simple and yet very deep an emotion. But if it reminds you of a sad incident, even the prettiest of flowers can cause pain.

How exact a science is the art of happiness?  We create more memories with each passing day. Why not make them all good ones. If we learn to appreciate the small things in life, life can be a bliss. But if we keep concentrating only on the bigger picture of fame, fortune and happiness and forget to live our present, then there are high chances that even with the fame, fortune and happiness ultimately gained, will leave us feeling helpless and alone.

Just something to think about, I guess. Especially since there is no tax on Positive Thinking. Let’s consider Happiness Quotient as a balance of all human emotions. Without loss, you wouldn’t be able to appreciate the gain, would you?

It has been a while…

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My blog tells me that it has been 5 months since I wrote something here. I guess it is time to start writing again. If only planning to write , wanting to write and writing were all easy to do as they used to be.

Collecting thoughts and putting them down on paper (ahem) isn’t easy anymore. There is so much to say, so much I should not say and so much more that should have been said a long time ago. 

But one has to restart somewhere. Let it be now and let it be here. At the moment that I am still sad that my first born is not at home anymore , yet happy and proud of the man he has turned out to be. He has flown the coop . He is happy at a college in the US. This moment is precious to me. I just realized he misses home. I also just realized how selfish I am!

Let the feeling sink in, I keep telling myself. It hasn’t yet. He is still a child. He still behaves the same. He still is the same. I know it is wishful thinking to hope that he will always remains the same.

I started blogging when my kids were small and blogged through their teenage. In this new phase as a college mom, I am not sure what to blog about anymore. Until I figure out what to write about, I am leaving you with something that’s close to my heart these days :

Missing someone is bad enough, but being missed feels even worse…

Writing 

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It isn’t in the honour or accolades that a writer breathes,
It’s in the inner peace that writing brings,
I write to feel the warmth of the written word,
It’s effect on this cold soul within.

Many years of happiness and pain,
Maketh a writer more supreme,
A writer known for their writing will inturn,
Suffer many more years of happiness and pain.

How different is a writer from a normal soul?
How elite is this crowd that pride?
Aren’t humans a part of the stories we tell?
Aren’t emotions that we shamelessly sell?

Humans above humans, we know not what we think,
It is all for praise for a job well done,
While another human sits to decide, with malice even,
If what I write is in any way worth his while… 

Make it Happen

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Dear World,

Today, when the entire world is celebrating “Women’s Day”, we Indians have our heads bent low in shame. We truly deserve to be in this state though! We have amongst us men who believe that “women are flowers” as long as they sit at home like slaves. The moment she gets out of her home alone, she is equivalent to prey. Open for anyone to attack her!

After watching “India’s Daughter”, I couldn’t control my rage at the nonsense I got to witness. I am so glad that this documentary was made and shared with the world. I know that a defense lawyer has to try and justify his clients. But the words I heard were not justifications of a crime committed, but plain and simple venom towards the modern women of India. I hope every Indian sees this and realizes the kind of villains we are harbouring amongst us!

Every revolution starts with a spark. Let Jyoti’s light be the harbinger of freedom for Indian Women. Let us be united in letting the world know that we Indian Women are not anyone’s property and we are very much capable of taking care of ourselves. If animals decide to attack us for any reason, they should be shot down like rabied animals generally are!

May her soul rest in peace knowing that she was able to bring about a change in the mindset of at least a few people. The ripple effect will take care of the rest.

It is not a Happy Women’s Day at all today. Not because of the death of one of India’s daughters, but because of the audacity of a few men to air such views about women and the government’s delay in revoking their licenses to practice law. How can our judicial system be trusted ever again? How are we supposed to feel equal in this democracy when there are such animals walking around in the courts of law?

Hope the civilized human race understands the sadness that engulfs us today and our desperate need to fight for our freedom from such indignity. Let us together make it happen!

An Indian

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Being Hurt

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Being hurt is a sign of being human. Maturity should not take that from us.

   

When we are in a situation that has no solution, what can we do? 

I saw an ad recently issued in public interest about men and crying. It seems it  is something that has been grilled into boys for generations. 

Boys don’t cry!  Ladke rote nahi hai!

My first born is a boy and oh boy , the way he cried just after birth. His cries have kept me awake for nights together when he had the hernia and he couldn’t express what was hurting him. 

My husband cried the day our son was born. He cries when he sees any of us in pain. It’s a natural feeling to be hurt or to cry. Gender has nothing to do with it. Neither does age or maturity. 

It’s all about how much of a human we are. The daughter and I are a bit too human that way. Some insensitive people call us “too” sensitive. We are proud of it though! And no, we were not “taught” to cry because we are women. 

Yes, I am hurt. I am not embarrassed to express it. My life isn’t what I wanted it to be. I am not all what I could have been. 

I never thought being a mother would make me want to not want anything more in life. But it did. Even though it hurt every step of the way. The hurt of seeing my children grow. The hurt of them preparing to start a new life. The hurt of the first few harsh words that teenagers use. I have been there , done that and I have a few grey hairs and wrinkles to prove it. 

I see pregnant ladies in parks and malls and wonder if they have any idea how dramatically their life is going to change. The second child adds to that equation, the complexity of being “fair” and of equality. It never a ends, the battle against hurt. Yet we embrace each new hurt with a smiling face. We are only human. Humans that need love, care, understanding and a reason to continue living.

Laugh when you feel happy, cry when emotions overwhelm you.

That’s what life is all about. The simple essence of it. The essence of being ourselves. About being open to hurt and gaining the ability to overcome that pain. We mature, we learn, we grow.