What's in a name afterall ?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."

Shakespeare said that in 17th century and I tended to agree with him even in the twenty first century till of course I encountered an identity crisis of my own.

What is in a name ? It is just a way of being addressed that you choose (or rather your parents choose and you live with).... Isn't it ? You as a person are going to stay the same no matter whether you are called Joe or a J or a Juliet.

Or so I thought for the first 29 odd years of my life, till experience came knocking...

And then I came to the United States of America where it seemed like all names were drawn from a limited pool of nouns. Almost every guy was a Robert (aka Bob) or a James (aka Jim) or a John (Thankfully stayed John) or a Fred (aka Rusty) or variations thereof. Almost every girl was a Stephanie or a Julie or a Wendy or a Jill or a Jane or a similar modification of these similar names. And then in between all these names was mine - Suvasini. It was rare enough in India but here, I sure was one in a million... :)

All through my life I had lived with an unusual name. A name which required some spelling and enunciation corrections but more often than not people would eventually be able to call me out. I have heard many a variation on this name - Subhashini, Suvashini, Savasini, Savasni, Suvasni, Suhasini, Suhashini, and sometimes very rarely someone would latch onto Suvasini, the right way. But as you see they are not very far from the desired name... And so i lived with the alterations. I lived with the mutations and I lived with Shakespeare's wisdom encapsulated in those opening few words.

Actually, more than the alterations (or the mutations as the biologist in me would like to call them), what irked me a little was the first question that many people would ask : "So were you named after the actress - Suhasini?". Well, there was a famous actress called Suhasini and she was pretty good at her job too (I was certainly not embarrassed by her - nothing like having Saddam Hussein being your name pal) but... And this is a major BUT, I wasn't named Suvasini in honor of Suhasini.... They are just similar sounding names which mean completely (or atleast) very different things (almost like but and butt)...

Now, Don't get me wrong !! I am not complaining about my parents' unusual choice for a name. I love the name and the sound of it. It is a beautiful name (and trust me I am taking no credit for it as i had no say in the matter). I also love the fact that my name has a wonderful meaning and It almost feels like a blessing that came to me the day I was named and that was going to stay with me for the rest of my life, no matter what (I am definitely counting out a name change or an entry into a witness protection program here - those are rare events after all)...

But, I realized that I had a problem on hand when people couldn't get themselves to say my name in this new country. They just couldn't wrap this one word around their tongues.... I encountered it on my first day of orientation but then the PR personnel in a multinational institution are skilled enough to get by (with an hour long conversation also) without using your name (or using it rarely) and by asking you to fill out the umpteen forms. And then realization dawned when I walked into an orientation with the staff for animal work. There I gave my name out three times, pronouncing it each time like I was spelling out "Tri nitro Toluene" and I had a feeling that spelling TNT might have been easier, than was my name. I finally decided to take a more elaborate way of getting people to appreciate the word. I launched into a small note about how Indian names usually have a meaning and how my very own meant "one who lives well" - coming from the Sanskrit for good which is "Su" and the "Vas" which means "living". While the explanation took a while, the mission was a success because John (beware, I dont always use the right names.. ;)), my instructor for the day, caught on with the name and remembers it 4 months hence and never forgets to wave me a "hi" with my full name right behind it... :)

Different people here have gotten through the challenge differently. Some have chosen to ask me for the abbreviated version and have referred to me by that. Some have shortened it on their own to Su or Sue (can't really detect the spelling from the enunciation). Some have stuck with the full name and made very good attempts at getting it right. Some however are unable to deal with it and are unable to ask me "n" number of times (n being more than 2) and so they chose to not refer to me by name. Now this could work in a lot of situations say with people who end up calling me "lady" or "roomie" or "buddy" or "girl" but then in some situations like a more formal setting this system doesn't quite work (as you very well can see). And so my instructor in one of the classes resorts to visual communication. While we are all made to read passages out of our notes, she is unable to come up with a tangible sound and only manages to give me a sorry/nervous glimpse every time it is my turn.

And I appropriately react but this did put me in the throes of an identity crisis of sorts.

For a while, I could hear the taunts of all those Indian-Americans (whom i had secretly taunted) who shorten or alter their names - Jayachandran becoming Jay, Ramakrishnan or variants thereof that become Ram or Lakshmi becoming just Lax or of Madhavan becoming Maddy... I had never been very fond of these Americanized (or rather westernized) names because to me they were patronizing and they took the essence out of the name (I mean names which had a meaning became just words or rather sounds). But then when it came to my name, i did start seeing a reason as to why people did it. I am still not overtly enthusiastic about my cutting short my name but then it is difficult to keep looking at people wondering when they are talking to you... And if people are going be sensitive about asking for my name more than a couple of times, it doesn't really give me much time or opportunity to explain the meaning of my name or its essence... I mean, I can't possibly give a speech on my name and its meeting for an introduction... Imagine meeting someone who went on and on and on about their name "Hi ! :) My name is Suvasini. Su-Va-sini. I am an Indian and in India, most of the names have meaning. My name is derived from the Sanskrit language and it means, some one who lives well. My parents had great hopes and/or illusions... ;P" bla bla bla

(I do realize that is exactly what I am doing right now but then you have the opportunity of shutting your browser and so if you are still reading, it is out of choice; but the poor listener would not have the option of that life saving click )!!!!

So anyways, while, I am occasionally tempted to trim my name a little, i almost always choose to stick it out and let people juggle with the tongue twister of sorts. It is an exercise at pronunciation for them... to make sure they can roll their tongues in all the right ways.

And before you do reach out for that mouse to click on the close button, I am going to shut my trap and let you have your peaceful moments.

You are however welcome to click on the comments button and sympathize with me or send in some bricks or bats.... I will bear with the consequences of my actions one way or another.

Ah as for Shakespeare... I guess, names do matter... !!

The landscape of a country...

Being in a new country is an experience in itself. You are looking at a whole new world and not all things make sense the same way. Every country has a landscape of its own. A place that makes it what it is, different from all others.

It has taken me a long time to find the pulse of this new country I am in - the United States of America. Somehow, as I moved into this new country, I felt like I have lost that intuitive understanding of a place and its people. Back home, in India, I was never left feeling out of place. In a new city or a new town, even when i didn't know the common language, I never felt lost. I had a mysterious sense of belonging, of assurance like from the needle of a compass always pointing in the same direction. This compass however seemed to have lost its bearings the moment I stepped in here (despite the familiar language). That maybe a consequence of the differences in the magnetic strength. The two countries are after all at different places with respect to the magnetic poles... ;)

However on a more serious note, it is difficult to find the reason for this disorientation; but when I think about it, there is a difference in the landscapes of the two countries.

While, the Indian landscape was defined by its people, the American people are united by a culture. In India, the cultures change like the wind patterns. There is a new language, a new dialect, a new culture every few hours. There are new festivals and foods being celebrated all over. The cities are morphing faster than the moulting of a caterpillar. But the people remain the same. They all have the distinct Indian features - physical and mental. They have similar concerns, they have similar thought processes and similar appearances. They share a common history that goes back several millenia and there is a common thread tying them all together as people. It was easier to understand them all as one collective mass of humanity with their idiosyncrasies, their follies and their foibles. And of course, my existence there for nearly three decades makes me understand them intuitively, as i understand myself.

But here, in the US, there are people from all over. People of all the different races and nationalities have found a home here in the US. In fact, when i think about it, if an alien spacecraft ever did a random sampling of America, it would not be able to identify the natives from the immigrants. And it wouldn't surprise me, if there were more Asians (Chinese, Japanese, Koreans and Indians) and europeans than native Americans. And they all have different mindscapes, origins, habits and concerns. They think differently and react differently. And this has made the american landscape more of a cultural thing than that of common ancestry. To me, America and its people are defined, not by their origins but by their life style - the american way of life. A life made of pre-cooked meals, frozen foods, of cars and gadgets, of technology and energy, of rap/rock music and of Hollywood. America is made of those quintessential family-homes, of people who have a 5 day work week and want to/try to/ exercise regularly. It is a country which is known by its culture - its culture of freedom, of speech, of families and of people. When I think of america, I don't see a face, or a common history - i see a culture, a way of life. A culture where education is expensive, where savings are non-existent, where heating food in the microwave is called cooking, where people follow rules of the road and where people wish strangers. I see children moving out of homes, and parents living independently till the very end. I see "use and throw" obliterating the practice of repair. I see massive energy consumption even as there are massive efforts to recycle and conserve (It sounds oxymoronic but it is true and this is one aspect I find most mind-bogglingly fascinating). I see a culture where superficially people are granted the freedom to be as they please but there is an invisible mold that they are expected to conform to. There is a cloak of open-mindedness that conceals a more deep rooted feeling of parochialism. There is a facade of mutual agreement, appearances and social courtesy that covers deep rooted feelings of disagreement, anger, jealousy and loneliness. Their apparent friendliness is limited by its boundaries, quite unlike the Indian hospitality and concern which can sometimes run you over like a herd of wildebeests. While these things make it seem like US is not a great place to be in, let me clarify, that like all other things - it has its share of perks too. There are quite a few things i really like here and i shall soon write about them.

And I guess, these many layers of the American being have confounded my understanding and left me a little disoriented. But i guess, I am slowly homing in and finding my coordinates all over again. I still don't understand it all completely but i am beginning to find trends that define a commonality.

Two friends....

Reason and Intuition are our companions for life. They walk into our lives at different stages and in different ways, but they are there to stay. Their characters and personalities are as different as night and day, leaving us ripped apart like the guy whose best friends don't get on well with each other.

Although, intuition comes early into our lives, he is shy and quiet. Like a reticent boy of few words, he speaks in quiet, muffled sounds. He goes unnoticed many a times and gets chided at many others, like the little child gently tugging at your trousers in a crowded marketplace. You have to strain to hear him as the world around drowns his words. Although, he grows with us, he is forever the gentle voice that we fail to hear as we struggle with making sense of the many voices in our head.

Reason, on the other hand has the stronger voice which keeps booming relentlessly in our head, making a point. The world basks in his glory and makes it seem like he can do no wrong. You like him too but sometimes, he is just too dictatorial and self righteous. With the years and the grey hairs, you rely on reason a lot more, but, he is never really your confidante. He is never really your sounding board, the friend who understands you, the friend who cares. He says the right things, not necessarily the things "right" for you. One is almost always fighting with him, trying to scream over his high pitch, trying to get heard. Even though, the voice of reason is loud and clear, it fails to find resonance in our heart. Reason fails to accept our fears and our limitations. Intuition on the other hand dwells in the unstated and in the unclear. He seems to have this uncanny ability to know what you want and guide you through life with a gentle hand. Quite unlike the pushes and shoves of reason.

With the years and the loud voices of reason echoing in our head, we fail to hear the whispers of intuition. So much so that somewhere along the way, we have forgotten that little friend whispering his fears and thoughts as we spend our days catching up with the voice of reason. But he is always there beside you and you can hear him when all the chatter in your head has quietened down... On some of those days, when nothing and no one seems to understand you, when your mind is dead with fatigue, when nothing seems to make sense, you can hear him whisper in a gentle but comforting manner....And you can feel life again. You can hear his pulse throbbing to the beat of your heart and things seem to fall in place.

All our life, we walk with these two. Sometimes relying on one and sometimes on the other. Disturbed by their contradicting voices, sometimes, you try and reconcile them. Sometimes, you invent reason to follow your intuition and at other times, you follow reason with a firm grip on intuition. But more often than not, while one is leading your way, the other is watching your back... and its good to never lose sight of either, because they both bring in different perspectives.

Deja vu...

I love reading but unlike some others I know, I don't happen to have too much of a head space for remembering what i have read. I can never remember the source of a statement, the names of the characters, the names of authors or books, the words used or the way the words are knit together. To summarize, a lot of the times or rather most of the time, I don't retain a lot of what i have read. All I have is a sense - a sense of what the book was about, a sense of the writing, a sense of the feelings that the writing evoked. I am usually left behind with this fuzzy feeling of familiarity, a sense of deja vu, that lingers with me, enough to indicate familiarity the next time i encounter those words. The following is a poem I had encountered long ago (at least my head seems to think so) and found again recently on another blog and it brought back that same wave of feelings that it had first evoked. I like it for the profound vision that is woven in its simplicity and for the bigger picture of life that it paints. Makes one pause and think about the many people and events that shape our lives without our even noticing it.

Candles

If on your grandmother's birthday you burn a candle
To honor her memory, you might think of burning an extra
To honor the memory of someone who never met her,
A man who may have come to the town she lived in
Looking for work and couldn't find it.
Picture him taking a stroll one morning,
After a wasted month with the want ads,
To refresh himself in the park before moving on.
Suppose he notices on the gravel path the shards
Of a green glass bottle that your grandmother,
Then still a girl, will be destined to step on
When she wanders barefoot away from her school picnic
If he doesnt stoop down and scoop the mess up
With the want-ad section and carry it to a trash can.

For you to burn a candle for him
You needn't suppose the cut would be a deep one,
Just deep enough to keep her at home
The night of the hayride when she meets Helen,
Who is soon to become her dearest friend;
Whose brother George, thirty years later,
Helps your grandfather with a loan so his shoe store
Doesn't go under in the Great Depression
And his son, your father, is able to stay in school
Where his love of learning is fanned into flames,
A love he labors, later, to kindle in you.

How grateful you are for your father's efforts
Is shown by the candles you've burned for him.
But today, for a change, why not a candle
For the man whose name is unknown to you?
Take a moment to wonder whether he died at home
With friends and family or alone on the road,
With noone to sit at his bedside
And hold his hand, the very hand
It's time for you to imagine holding.

---- Carl Dennis

Which tree are you ?

Jack and Jane had not seen each other for decades but when destiny brought them together after all those years, waves of nostalgia washed over them and they could view their lives in a whole new perspective.

They had started off as friends who had spent many an afternoon together, working through their school work, talking about their dreams and passions. They were friends but they were very different individuals and it was only a matter of time that their paths would diverge and they would be pulled apart by the forces of life. Today, after all those years, they could see the differences that made them who they were. They had started off from similar places but their lives had taken on very different trajectories.

Even as a kid, Jane was relentlessly determined. Somehow, she had this great sense of clarity and purpose about what she wanted to be and about how her life should be. Very early in life, she knew exactly what she wanted to do and how she wanted to do it too. She strove for perfection, for immaculate precision and for sublime clarity in her field of interest. Nothing could distract her or shift her focus. She achieved her dreams with great elan and was soon a successful professional who was a respected figure in her field. She was a part of many landmark events in her area of interest but her interest and expertise did not extend to areas beyond that. She did not know or care about things other than her favorite subject. She had single-mindedly dedicated her life and her mind to the pursuit of excellence in her profession.

Jack, on the other hand, formed the other end of the spectrum with his inherent curiosity and sense of adventure. He had barely left any field untouched. He dabbled in almost anything under the sun. He was not the expert on anything but he sure knew a fair bit about almost anything under the sun. He tried his hand at many a thing and acquired these many skills with great panache. From photography, to mechanics, to science, to history, to art and food. He had diverse interests and he nurtured them at every available opportunity. He could not say he didn't like something till he actually tried it and he lacked the sense of surety with which Jane made her choices. He somehow lacked the dogged pursuit and fierce determination that pushed Jane ahead. But he was extremely passionate about every skill he acquired. He was a man with a great many talents and realized more about himself with every choice he made. His thirst for knowledge and desire for learning kept him on a lookout for newer arenas.

Two lives - that started the same way but ended differently. While Jane's life grew like a Date palm - tall and erect, with one single goal, and a single obsession. Jack tried many a different paths and branched out like the banyan. He was not as tall or specialized as the palm but he covered a lot of ground. They had two completely different approaches and two completely different perspectives. Who is to say which is better and which is not ? It's just who we are that determines what we become, not where we start off from.

I am not sure where my loyalties lie amidst these two schools of thought but a drive for the diversity in knowledge that Jack had seems more attractive to my mind than the expertise that Jane built over the years. While, the allure of perfection and brilliance is also very strong for me, it gets offset by the adventure and the thrill of learning and trying something new. And perhaps, somewhere deep down, I lack the courage to choose one option and to make my peace with it. My mind wants to explore everything that comes its way before making that "final" choice and before taking a call. So, I guess, despite learning through my entire childhood that "A jack of all trades is the master of none", I tend to grow more as a Banyan, than as a palm.

Which tree are you ?

The nullification of "self" ....

"Self absorbed" "Self- centered" "ego-centric" "selfish" "Narcissistic"

All these words paint only one abominable picture in our mind.

Don't they ? One of a self-loving individual who is inconsiderate to anyone else but himself.

But every time I come across these words, I am forced to pause and think. Not because they are evil qualities that we should get rid of but because they are who we all really are and there is no escaping it. And in all honesty, I see nothing wrong in being self-absorbed because you are the only thing that you can control in a world that is constantly rushing ahead.

Think about it.

By conventional definitions I think I am self absorbed and maybe even self-centered. I am involved with how I can learn about myself and improve myself. I am pre-occupied with doing what i think is right and with working on my life. I have my dreams and visions and I work towards them. I am affected by my thoughts and feeling and sometimes that's all that matters to me. And I fail to see why this would ever be the bane of a society. Because after all, that is what we can do and what we best understand. Our "self". And....if every one did this without harming another individual there really would not be a lot of our problems.

We, as men and women of independent will, can only mold our life through our choices. We can truly appreciate only our experiences and our lessons from them. We, as people, are limited in the dimensions of our perspectives. We can truly value an experience only after we've been through it ourselves or at least something closer to it. No amount of rambling, preaching or explaining can actually help us agree to something unless we "feel" it. We are unable to truly appreciate another point of view till we actually reach that place in "our" life. Years of evolution have built self preservation as a veritable part of our 'self'. All our actions are directed towards the self - even those which (happen to) help others. We do all things because they benefit us in one form or the other - either in the form of material gain or in the form of psychological gain. We donate because it makes us feel good. We help others because it gives us a sense of purpose. All our acts, no matter how righteous they are, have a large component directed towards the self. Take for example the basic life-force of our existence - children. Having kids is one of the most selfless acts as far as social perceptions go because you are bringing into this world another being who is completely helpless for the first few years. People say that parents venture into this big investment of time, money and energy with no gains, but the truth as I see it is that we have kids because we want to. We want to bring in someone into this world through whom we can leave a mark on this world. Through whom we can live our life all over again. Who is a key to helping us make a difference. And all this emotional baggage is the result of our biological instincts which have been shaped as such through millions years of evolution where he who did not reproduce, perished. Tomorrow, if I have any kids, it will be because i want them and not because I am doing it out of a sense of benevolence to the unborn child ! And this is the difference that we all need to accept and appreciate.

Why do we shy away from acknowledging this interest in the self...? Why is it perceived to be morally wrong to be self-absorbed ? I can only be legitimately involved in myself because that is the only perspective i see and can truly appreciate... and that is the only variable I can change through my efforts or my attitude. Why is the entire society built of the framework of nullifying and annihilating the sense of self, even though it is the most difficult thing to do and is completely contrary to our natures.

I should however clarify here that i do not mean to propound utter disregard for another human being or complete lack of empathy. In fact, i think, being self-limited has helped me become more empathetic. I am sure this sounds like an oxymoronic statement but the truth is, every time I encounter an opinion or a person, i put myself in the other pair of shoes and that "self-absorbed /self-centered" behavior makes me become truly tolerant and empathetic to another person because i then treat them like i would treat myself.

I hear criticism about people saying they are self-absorbed, and many a time, I have felt like screaming out aloud - "There is nothing wrong with that !!". There is nothing wrong in writing, talking or thinking about your life as long as you dont hurt another individual in your greed for space, time and attention. There is nothing wrong in drawing from your experiences and talking from your perspectives because that's all you can be honest about and that's all you know best.

I wish the world would appreciate the power of the "self" in places more than the "self-help" books which seem to be overflowing in bookstores. I hope that we are able to accept our selfish streak and to use it in the right way because to my mind, nullifying our sense of self is certainly not the way forward.

Spectator on the outside...

On a cold, windy day, as I sit by the window and look at life as it has been, I feel strangely disconnected, as if I am witnessing a movie of sorts (a rather boring one at that !).

Life in the past few years has moved at its steady pace but somewhere i am not living it the way I used to. I can barely feel my life - the unbearable agony or the ecstasy of being. I can see the days moving by, at a steady pace, governed by the sun and its relentless motion, but I can't feel them distinctly. So much so, that sometimes, I am left wondering about where one began and where it ended. It feels like it has been one steady flow like that of the river as it reached the plains - slow, meandering, almost effortless even though it is carrying a lot with it.

I have witnessed some great days and lived through some exceedingly painful events but while I have been through them all, I can't feel them - the pain nor the joy. It feels like they all came and went like the ripples on the surface of a deep pond when a stone is cast. There are disturbances on the surface but underneath it all, deep within, there is an undisturbed quiet. A sense of steadiness and stability. Is that where I am ?

I haven't jumped with joy or shrieked with excitement even for achievements that mark a lifetime. I haven't dwelled in the sorrows and moped around either, even though some days were just wretched and miserable. I have lived through them with these reactions which were essential but somehow nothing really managed to pierce through the exterior. I haven't been inactive either. I have met my goals, made my decisions and led my life. I have done the right things (at least as per how they seemed to me) and i have worked hard. And yet, I feel disconnected. Far from the daily ups and downs which were marked by a certain volatility that used to catch even me by surprise. It was a life with a lot of drama because I used to feel a lot more than I needed to. And how much I wished then to feel less, so that the pain would become more bearable and life would become more pleasant. These were not huge, life-threatening or existential problems that would impact a nation, but they were mine. The joys too were not landmark events. They were small jokes, few good moments, tiny successes, that were marked by a small treat.... nothing dramatic but I could feel them and I was ecstatic with them. Life was more like the journey of a river at its origins, tumultuous, tiring, bubbling forth and bursting through every obstacle that comes forth.

But not now. I am at a different stage now. Is it that I have just grown older and have found the maturity to appreciate life in all its essence away from the sinusoidal curves of daily existence... ? Is it that my mind had adapted itself in some "evolutionarily" competent way to make me survive through the worst by dimming my perceptions and sensitivities ? I mean, if I don't feel the miseries, I am bound to live a happier, less complicated life, ain't I? Have I finally found a sense of equanimity with my approach to life, as opposed to the volatility of my earlier years, when every tiny event would trigger a surge of adrenaline or endorphin.... ? Or is it that I have actually become indifferent to life around me ?

Have I become calm and level-headed or simply indifferent to life ??

A day and a lesson to remember...

There are some days in life that sneak up on you like the first rains after a long dry season and leave you feeling just as rejuvenated. April 2nd 2011. It was one such day in the lives of many Indians. It was just another Saturday in every aspect but for the fact that India won the cricket world cup.

I was caught by the cricket bug in childhood itself just as almost every other Indian kid. Playing some gully cricket to watching test matches between exams were a big part of my life till adulthood took charge. A few lost matches, a match-fixing scandal, a bad season, a busy schedule, physical distances and the call of duty had all played a part in estranging me from the entire euphoria of the 2011 World cup. It would have seemed like a complete remission in medical terms but then it took only one grand victory over Australia and Pakistan and a place in the finals for me to be showing symptoms of the bug all over again... :)

I was hooked on to the final match. It was a great day but then there have been other such great days earlier. Will we actually repeat history as it had happened nearly three decades ago or will it be a recap of events much closer in time... ? Despite these fears, I couldn't resist waking up early to watch the match on a weak internet connection. The scenes from the match kept drifting in and out of my computer like the curtains on my window but then this was a match I couldn't have stopped watching. And so I valiantly sat there garnering information from two different websites and trying to keep my nails intact as they were keeping pace with the tension in the game. It was a comfortable victory as things turned out but then Indian cricket is famous for its roller coaster rides. And just when you thought that all was well and under control, one could feel a tug on the carpet beneath your feet as the opposition tried to sneak in. And this would just prompt complete attention and stunned silence to the game. And there I was sitting in front of my computer screen, trying multiple websites for a live feed and looking for some good quality telecast as my brain swung from hope to euphoria to disappointment to ecstasy.

The end of this long story of course is not unknown to anyone who cares to look up the news once in a while because though cricket is not the biggest game in the world, it has a fair share of its followers. To put it in the mildest terms, India won the match with a bang and the entire country of 1.2 billion erupted. It is just a game but the influence of this game and its grip on the Indian social structure and psyche is difficult to estimate till you see such historic days. Even sitting 8000 miles away with a few facebook updates and a glimpse on the bbc news, i knew that it was a momentous day and that the entire country would have behaved like it were stoned with Tequilla. There were celebrations on the streets, rituals and functions, rallies and processions as if all the problems of this emerging "developing" nation were solved in one single swoop by acquiring the magic of the world cup. I am sure everyone was filled with a sense of pride, respect, joy and nationality. You dont expect anything less from a nation where cricket and religion as equals in attention seeking.

And through all this, somewhere, halfway across the world, I was sitting watching this day as if it were just another dream. I wished I could scream just to share my happiness (but then you don't expect your American, Chinese and Japanese neighbors to understand your sentiments about cricket) and so I sat there in silence watching the joy and pride on a million faces. I wanted to celebrate but here i was struggling to even watch the celebrations (the internet really seemed to follow murphy's law because it would decide to take a break at all the crucial moments in the match).

Even with the nationalistic sentiments surging through my mind, in those few moments, i realized one thing for certain. They were right when they said that happiness grows when you share it and is incomplete when you can't. For some reason, I had never accepted this idiom and its value. Why would you think that joys are never complete until you share them....? After all, they are so few and far in between that when you find them you should be happy irrespective of who is around you or not. But on this day amidst all the euphoria that I was witnessing, i had learnt a lesson. I had understood the words I had heard forever and i could feel their true import. My joy too felt incomplete till i could rejoice with the other. See the smiles that wouldn't fade. Till I could hear the drums in the distance and the screams in the streets and smell the sweets from the kitchen.

It remained a dream till i heard some Indians chatting in the bus about India's performance. Till I heard those facebook comments and saw those pictures of glorious celebrations. It was a landmark and will be remembered for a long time to come. And though I was a witness to it, somewhere deep inside, I know i was nowhere near to experiencing it.

Nonethless, it was a day I wish to remember for days and years to come and it came with a wonderful lesson too.

And since for me a picture says what a thousand words can, I have included some pictures of that landmark day when history was drafted by 11 men and witnessed by 1.2 billion...

The Gray invasion...

From the clarity of black and white, my world has been invaded by the grays. It started silently like those first obscure strands of gray that you suddenly notice on one fine day.

I left them unattended and now I can see that quietly and surely, the grays have invaded my world as they constantly cloud my perspectives. Nothing seems right or wrong and every perspective seems understandable given the circumstances. No one seems right and no one seems wrong. No answer seems complete and no question feels simple. Every problem has a million variables and is never taken care of. Every decision feels like a gamble as nothing ever is completely right for all concerned. My thoughts of me are burdened by my thoughts of others. My fears for others have become my own.

Where is that simple world of yonder where people were either good or bad, honest or dishonest, right or wrong... ? I feel like I am trying to see the world through a lens that becomes misty every time I breathe. How does one make decisions when everything has its own pitfalls and its own merits, when everyone is bound by their circumstances and when every choice is driven by its own problems.... ??

With age and maturity, I have found the grays and maybe even accepted them. I know now that they are here to stay. At times, I feel like not breathing just so the mist would clear and the images would become sharper.... At others, I like this fuzzy world where I can judge no one, where is no one is right and no one is wrong. Where people are just people and everyone is beyond my understanding, reproach or opinion because i will never know in entirety of the past that made them what they are, the present that holds them where they are or the future that drives them forward. And that is sometimes liberating.

But in this gray world, I do sometimes hold my breath and wait for the mirror to clear up because after all decisions have to be made one way or another. While sometimes chance comes up as the blustery wind that clears my vision, at other times, it is my heart which sheds some light. In a world where rational thought seems to fail me, I am learning to listen to my heart which has many a things to say through those gentle whispers, nods, notes of disgust, anger, confusion, misery and joy. While my mind is relentlessly trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, knowing deep within that it is almost impossible without a picture to go with, my heart takes a stand and gives me a small, feeble indication. I try to listen and I struggle to interpret. But with the years spent together we now seem to have a sense of trust as i have begun to understand its voices.

I guess with the loss of clarity in vision, i have sharpened my auditory acuity... :)