I am back, for good.

I know I have been doing disappearing acts quite frequently from the beginning of this year but yeah, i am back. And I am back to being “jumpy in a nice sort of way” from “jumpy in a horrible sort of way”! You, as regular readers would know I have had two horrible years in a row and to be honest I was expecting this year to be horrible too. But, no(touch wood, now!!!!!! and only then continue reading). I am glad things are working out to be great(Touch wood again.)My head has been full of thoughts. All that I am going to write in this post would been written on separate days and in separate posts if I were around the last few weeks. But fortunately I was learning to keep my thoughts to myself. At least until it’s OK to spill them out. If you ask me, that indeed is a big thing for me to learn, if you knew me and my verbal diarrhea!

After very long phases of desperate fighting and proving and longing, I think I just about managed to reach a point in life where I had no complaints. But along with it has come a lot of cockiness. My edges have been smoothed out in the last few days, and for that I am thankful. I might just be a little more patient from now on. And a lot less cocky. But that doesn’t mean I am going to stop ranting about morons. I will just be more patient with them. But if someone gets on my wrong side, I will still wish hell upon them.  I have a lot to learn.

I think I have become so used to not bein happy that I am worried when I am happy. And I am so damn happy. Happy in a way that is scary. I smile a lot now. I sing most of the time. I laugh with people. I help random people. I am happy!The worst kind of anxiety is when your troubles show signs of ending. I am scared of this feeling of being on top of the world(which I, as a matter of fact was on top of at exactly this time last week. In the real sense.)Haa so I cant believe I can actually be so happy. Its like a new world for me and the best part is that life hasnt even started with Ro and I am actually already this happy! I believe in god now. I believe that when people say things dont work out because there is something much much better out there, it really is true!

I admire people who have the kind of faith in themselves that they can let go of clinging on to someone so “intangible” – God. For me faith was that last and final thing that brings me hope just when I am on the verge of losing it completely. Ro is spiritual and not religious and that I am glad. I have never been religious. But faith and deriving strength from it is a different matter – I am glad I have it now! i thank god every single day for giving me what I deserve. Yes, I cried to god for all sorts of things , fought with him because he didnt give me what I asked for and questioned him as to why he was making me go through so much and then finally I prayed to him and told him this,” Dear lord, I am sorry for all the mistakes I have made in my life. I promise not to repeat anything ever. I will forgive all those who have hurt me and will wish them well and pray for them all my life. I want you to forgive me as well. I want you to  make sure that you leave me with no options other than what  you want me to do and above all no matter what I want in life, I want you to give me what you have in store for me. That is my prayer to you.Today and everyday.” And this prayer gave me the strength to change my life and it has made me a much better person. I have found a man who loves me unconditionally and I am irrevocably in love with him too. And that I think is my true blessing from the skies above.

Friends. WHat would one do without them? I have a lot of friends but only a few have managed to form a lasting bond. Div and Deeps are my sisters in arms. The ones that I turn to when I need tht push. Joeey I wonder how miserable life would have been if you hadnt come back into my life at a time I needed someone the most. Bless you, girl. Mangu, my soulmate! Sin, the one that plans to stay behind the scenes for the rest of my life, Ol woman, there is no problem that I have that cannot find an answer when shared with you, I cant wait to get to you in September. Psycho, Captain you guys definitely make my world a better place to live in and last but not the least, my family. Thanks for accepting me with everything that I am.

Ro, a mention on a post is not enough to explain what you mean to me.So I shall not speak now. For now, remember that you are right at the centre of my world and you fill me with a love I have never ever known. During my times of struggle – major and minor – I have been told two things – “keep the faith” and “don’t forget to see the humour”. In the last few weeks of desperate anxiety and uncertainty, I tried my best to do both (see how grown up and all I sound? ). I can’t go into the details here, but all I am saying is that Ro and I have overcome our first struggle as adults and as a couple. And no, we were not fighting. Not this time And we have come out of all this stronger. Happier. More drunk on life. And I think more in love too.Thank you for loving me.

For now, there is work to do before I take a break, people to thank, songs to sing, prayers to say and a lot of love to give. I will see you around!

This is why i love these guys!

Reality Check

Its a nice, cool morning, but its Monday and so I am moaning. As usual. There are some days that just knock u off your feet. Some days when u just wake up with a smile on our face, not really knowing that it will be the only one on your face the entire day. Some days when everything just seems to go wrong, as though the whole universe just conspired to make you feel utterly miserable.

Ever get this feeling that you’re watching your own life happen from outside? No, I don’t mean to ask if u have suffered a mild case of dissassociative disorder. Just that at times, u just feel that things happening to you, are not really happening to u. they are not really real. Well, this feeling that I get once in a while, often gets me thinking. What the hell is reality anyways. Who decides what is real n what is science fiction? I mean, matrix could be real. So could Twilight. Its convenient right? We have made categories for everyone to fit in. Even for those who don’t want to- they are the miss-fits. The radicals. If someone says or believes in something that doesn’t fit into the system, they are immediately cast away as schizophrenics, maniacs. The Not-normals. Come on, how many times have you done things that isnt normal in the eyes of the society and people around you? Does that make you a not normal person or a not nice person? Then how can you judge someone else and push someone away because they are doing something different?! Talk about double standards!

Alright I digress. This brings us back to my original question. Who decides what is normal? Whose reality are we living anyways? I remember one day in college, my friends and I had a HUGE debate over this. Well, mostly it was speed n me, with div trying to placate me, while supporting speed’s view. Speed claimed that reality was quite simply what she could see, feel, touch n hear. I countered that so does a schizophrenic( I am a psychologist too, remember), so why is that called hallucination? She counter-countered that, well what a schizo’s reality is something that only he/she can see. But her reality is something that all of us can…she, me,div, the guy sitting in the adjacent bench trying to evesdrop, all of us. So well, I asked, then that simply means that your reality is dependant on the corroboration of others. Which when simply put can just mean that whatever the majority thinks, believes, and says, becomes the reality. It may be wrong, but then u gotta live with it.

This brings us to another favourite theory of mine. That this big, beautiful world of ours, runs on a few sets of parameters. And on the assumption that every man, woman, n child, accept n believe in those parameters. These parameters may not always make sense, but they are essential building blocks of our world. If they crumble, we crumble. So when some enlightened soul stands up to question them, it becomes necessary for us to label them as crazy, so that we don’t have to grope in the darkness for answers. Because we are quite happy to live with the answers that we already have. So well, if we believe that matrix is a reality, it kinda burdens us with a need to take a stand. Do we, go on as we did even after knowing the truth? Or do we, like Neo, fight for freedom? Choice…it’s not just our greatest gift, it is also our biggest burden. We chose our reality. We chose what we want to believe. And we chose to be who we are. Reality, my friend, is a myth.

It’s all in your head…zombie.

Finding the Job of your life- An HBR Blogpost

Let’s face it. We all think about it. At times we think of little else — even if only rarely and in certain settings do we feel free to admit it. The conversation often begins furtively, the question murmured as if slightly shameful or out of place. How can I get more of it at work?

Meaning, that is.

Meaning at work, in work, from work. Despite work even. Meaningful work. However you put it, we crave meaning more than ever.

It may be because we are freer. If we’re fed up of soulless work we are told to take charge of our career, find our vision and carve our own path. But what if we can’t see clearly? What if a path that looks promising actually leads nowhere?

It may be because we are too focused or not focused enough. We feel stuck on a narrow path and we wonder what lies beyond it. Or we hop between jobs without commitment or a clear direction.

It may be because we are more exposed. Courses, networking events and social media may not open so many doors but they provide plenty of windows — into a myriad of new neighbors’ lawns whose grass often looks greener. Take Facebook. Everyone has fulfilling lives there. Their colleagues are helpful and fun, their partners attractive and caring, their travels exotic and food delicious. Their glasses are full. Children always smile and never have tantrums.

Someone always seems to be pulling it off. Whatever ‘it’ is. So why aren’t we?

The more we reach for meaning, the more elusive it becomes. Interrogating its nature, what it may look and feel like, makes it more mysterious. Thinking about meaning only deepens our longing.

When you look at it that way, meaning is like love.

Yearning for either turns some into poets and drives the rest of us on a quest to experience it.

But when it comes to love, most grown-ups realize what that quest will take.

We long ago gave up the fantasy that a Prince or Princess Charming will show up one day to sweep us off our feet. We know that finding love takes more than hopeful waiting. It takes building a relationship with somebody to share love with.

Love, the sentiment, is a consequence of having found our somebody. It begins when our desire for love morphs into desire for a person . In fact, when we are in love we may not even think much about our desire for love. We’re too busy doing what lovers do — holding hands, writing letters, promising, being consumed and scared and comforted, raising children, fighting, making up, making out, having a laugh.

When it comes to meaning, however, many grown-ups still believe in a version of the handsome prince and perky princess.

We call them “dream job” or “fulfilling life” and imagine them to be out there — at the other end of the marshes of torment, waiting for us to wade through a forest of doubts. Ready to understand us perfectly and delight us ever after.

That very belief keeps us confused and stuck.

Meaning, like love, is a consequence. Not a destination. It is the sentiment we experience, usually in passing, when we’re engaged with activities, people, or purposes that keep us busy and make us feel alive. It is not the big warm light at the end of the tunnel. It is the tiny LED that signals “life is ON.”

If meaning is what we seek, then, the best we can do is to find something so engaging that we stop thinking of meaning. How? The same way most of us go about finding our somebody when we are looking for love.

Yes, fantasizing, getting advice, and taking to the Internet are all well and good. But sooner or later you have to play the awkward, exciting, unpredictable game.

Dating.

In her landmark study of career transitions, Herminia Ibarra echoes the psychoanalyst Adam Phillips’ view that flirtation — a form of experimentation suspended between imagination and commitment — is the royal road to explore potential interests and discover who we are, not only when it comes to romance.

On a first date you rarely ask yourself, “Is he or she the one?” Ok, maybe you do, and you might be able to tell if someone isn’t. But you are more likely to wonder, “Is this going any further?” or more precisely, whether and how you would like it to. The latter question is far more useful, for three reasons.

It is (more) answerable. It is impossible to know in advance if a job you are considering will be meaningful. You can tell if it is attractive, which does not hurt — but this offers little real guidance. It is possible, however, to sense from a project, an internship or even just a meal with potential colleagues if that attractive job may be worth pursuing further.

It reveals what you want (and what you are prepared to give). Considering a concrete option, as opposed to a fantasy, puts your expectations to the test of reality. If you went further, what might you have to invest, rearrange, give up? What would you want and fear? How much work are you prepared to put in to make it work?

It exposes you (or makes you withdraw). It is impossible to love and learn without making ourselves vulnerable. To rejection, hurt, disillusionment or exploitation. To surprise, affection, understanding and transformation. Dating won’t help you assess those risks and opportunities accurately, let alone prevent them, but it gives you a chance to entertain them and maybe take the plunge.

Any job, like any relationship, brings out some parts of yourself and demands that you put others aside. At best, they free you to express more of who you want to be. At worst, they make you feel unsafe. When flirting with a job, you may feel freed up or want to shut down. That is a sign of how the job may change you.

There are as many kinds of meaning as there are kinds of love. Claiming and liberating us at the same time, both elicit the full range of feelings that come with being alive. Our “meaning lives” are as complex and messy as our “love lives.” Both can be frustrating at times and gratifying at others. In fact, it is the possibility of experiencing a broad range of feelings, in relation to someone or something that matters, that makes them meaningful.

A meaningful job has boring moments, scary moments, angry moments. It is not a flat line of unvarying personal fulfillment. Nothing is great if it is monotone. There is no job of your life out there, waiting to be found

Ramblings-2

I am not exactly sure why, but i seem to be on a rambling spree these days. Today as I sit down to write I have a  zillion disconnected thoughts on my mind. And so I decided that for a change I’ll just type whatever is on my mind. Again, let me warn you that none of it will have any connection!

Time flies. Time waits for no man. Time heals all wounds. All any of us wants is more time… Time to stand up… Time to grow up…Time to let go…

I know we’ve had our differences, and I’m sorry we’ve been out of touch. Believe it or not, I was trying to make everything better. I know you’re angry. I hope you’ll forgive me. Someday.

Too often, the thing you want most, is the one thing you can’t have. Desire leaves us heartbroken. It wears us out. Desire can wreck your life. But as tough as wanting something can be… the people who suffer the most, are those who don’t know what they want.

Sometimes, when people say sorry, you just have to forgive them. Coz there may come a time when you would be asking for forgiveness and that person might just not accept it. “What goes around, comes around.”

Sometimes the people who you give least value to can change your life.

Maybe I do believe it, all this “meant to be” stuff. Why not believe it, really? Who doesn’t want more romance in their life? Maybe it’s just up to us to make it happen. To show up and be meant for each other. At least that way you’ll find out for sure – if you’re meant to be or not.

When we follow our hearts, when we choose not to settle; it’s funny, isn’t it? A weight lifts, the sun shines a little brighter, and for a brief moment, we find a little peace.

I’m a human being. I make mistakes. I’m flawed. We all are.

Love Bits-1

The other evening, the man(presumably out of desperation coz I was bugging him so much) gave me a sneak peek into what I mean for him and how much he values this thing that we have. He asked me what i had to say and I told him I’d write what I wanted to tell him. I thought and I thought and just one thing came to my mind over and over again….

“Without you I am lost

Within you I lose myself

Without you I find myself wanting to be lost again….”

Where it all began

It rained the night before I was born. An unexpected rain. Susrusha Nursing home found itself walked on by women with lifted sarees and men with their pants hitched higher than the high it already was.

Mother must have screamed, her first and perhaps only emotion when concerning me. And I cried for I hadn’t wanted to be born.

After the many nurses touched me, cleaned me and handed me over with forced emotion to my mother’s mother. It was she who first held me. I remember my grandmother mentioning years later that the doctor came out and said to her that my mom delivered a doll for her to play with. I’d fallen asleep in her arms, tired from my journey.

Taking one look at my not so pink cheeks and the lower half of my body that was wrapped snugly in a clinical white Turkish towel, she’d prayed that my father wouldn’t be too unhappy. The child being a girl.

Father was too high on  joy and cigarattes. He couldn’t have cared less. He was a father, once again! The elder one being a boy was more than enough for him. After all the boy would take care of all his needs when he grows up. What was the use of two boys anyway?

Before handing me over to him, my grandmother had pinched my cheeks to make them redder. And I’d woken up to cry in protest. Through his sleep deprived eyes, father held me uncomfortably and awkwardly. When placed into his hands that formed the most uncomfortable cradle ever, he looked at everyone around foolishly and showed me to my brother. My brother who cared a damn about what it was. it could be a cat for all he cared.He was annoyed because he hadnt slept last night coz he was in the car with mosquitoes buzzing all around him and more so because he thought all the attention his mother and grandmother had showered on him would now go to this thing. He thought.

Already in a strange land, I was moved from place to place. I’d stopped crying because I was tired of crying too- yes, even then.The last person to hold me was mother. And when she did I’d realize that maybe she hadn’t wanted me born either. After all, maybe she knew that eventually I’d be the one taking her life away. Maybe. The hostility and hatred penetrated through the warm folds of the blanket and making an effort through all the fear I felt, I’d screamed; terrified.

How do I know all this?
Because I remember everything. That’s the curse I am born with.