Monday, April 9, 2012

Chasing dreams...

I have often wondered about what people feel when they face imminent death. When they know they have only a certain time to live. Do people really start living only when they know about their death - when they start writing their bucket list... ?

Its true that no one probably thinks they are immortal but we all certainly don't live our lives like we are going to die in a few days. We lead a safe, risk-free life today planning for some fun and adventure tomorrow. 

We work and save all our years hoping that some day in the future, we would have saved enough to actually live the dream. To take the dream vacation we wanted to, to learn the instrument we wanted to, to play what we wanted to and to basically start living the life we wanted to. We do this for so many years though there is nothing that assures us that we will live to see that day. Yet, we choose to wait - to wait for that unknown day, when living the dream would be acceptable. And sometimes, We spend our entire life waiting; so much so that we forget what living is all about. We forget that living is more than just breathing in and out but it is to experience life in its richest glory. We lose the curiosity of childhood, the dreams and idealism that marked adolescence, the spirit of fun and adventure that marked our youth, and the wisdom that came later in life.
 
I have long been this curious cat who wanted to experience everything that she has read or heard about - from the scones that the Famous Five had to the high that adrenaline junkies feel. I have wanted to experience these diverse flavors of life - of things that I had only heard or read or dreamt about. 

And for the past year and a half, since I have embarked on this new journey far from home and everything else familiar, I have done just that. Intentionally or unintentionally, I have been thrown in a sea of unfamiliar and I have just tried to keep my head above the water. I have experienced things that I would not have, back home. I have tried, tested, tasted new things and explored newer territories. I have still not done everything I've wanted to (or everything I could have) but I've done quite a few things. This past year, I have had my highs and lows and while the lows stuck longer in my memory by force of temperament, I am now beginning to appreciate the highs. The past year was great because i have lived like I am going to die in five or six years. When I embarked on this new journey, I had given myself a few years to figure out where I want to take my life (yes, people can still be confused at 29 and 30) ! And then, I had wanted to go back home, to the place that was familiar and was mine. And that looming prospect of limited time, has made me adventurous - has made me grab opportunities that came along as if I won't have long to get them back.

This is one of those opportunities and I am so very glad to have not missed. 

Jumping from 10000 feet off a plane sounds as crazy as it probably is and it was just one of those things that I had dreamed of doing for a long time. I wasn't even sure if I will ever be able to do it... but then, one fine day, there was an opportunity knocking in my inbox and I decided to take the leap. I finally managed to use my ticket to (literal) free-fall (I guess, we all have our metaphorical free falls and I'd rather not discuss them here ;)) today after three months of visualizing it. 

At the end of the experience, the one thing I can say for sure is that, one never feels more alive than when one is closest to death. That is when you see more, you feel more and experience life like never before. Those few seconds of free fall were one of those most vivid moments of my life, when I wanted to distill the whole experience and freeze it in my mind - frame by frame, image by image, so that I can relive it again and again. I have experienced a whole gamut of emotions in those fifteen minutes and never before have I felt so alive. 

When I left home this morning, I had a mild rumble in my stomach suggestive of what the day holds for me. It was a nervous tick where I was curious to experience the thrill but also to see myself experience it. Will I be nervous ? Will I be scared ? Will I be able to jump off a plane at 10000 feet trusting my life in the hands of another ? What will be my reaction if everything goes well ? What if something doesn't ? How much fear do I feel and how do I handle it ? There were a million questions that were going around in my head but the biggest was my fear of fear itself. There is perhaps nothing wrong in being scared, but I had long thought that there are very few things that I am truly scared of and I had convinced myself that this was not one of those. But there was no way I could test myself and today was the day to see myself handle fear, the thrill and adventure. 

When the plane took off on the warm summer morning that today was, it was filled with people and their anxieties. We were surrounded by that nervous excitement that first-timers have when they are doing something this adventurous. Some were quiet, some were chatty, some were excited, and some reflective (perhaps?). Yes, the odds are that nothing will go wrong and that like the hundreds before you and the hundreds after, you too, will enjoy yourself and reach terra-firma safe and sound with the experience of a life time, etched in your memories. But, there is small part of your brain and a huge stack of liability release forms that keep you cognizant of the possibility of things going wrong. And so when at 6000 feet, your instructor asks you what your last words are going to be before you jump, you are forced to stop and think...what if these are your "last words" ? What would you like to tell the people who are waiting for you if you never happen to see them again - those people who don't know of what you are doing and might just get a phone call from a strange land telling them that the world as they knew is lost forever ? And then, at that moment in time, as I stare out of the window and look at the tiny doll-like houses that we have left below, I feel small but brave at the same time. I think of my last words and I say - "I love my life and I love my family". Though, an hour before, the thought of leaving a message like that on video seemed ridiculous, at that moment, seeing world drifting farther and farther away from you, it felt like the only thing I could say. 

And then 'the' moment came. When at 10,000 feet, you sit strapped to your instructor and the door to the airplane opens. Being closest to the door, you walk to it and watch - the world and yourself. You look down to see the whole wide world down below. You have to take a step out of that plane into nothing but thin air and trust nothing but your instructor and your harness. It is scary and there is a moment of uncertainty when you want to hold onto the door for one more minute, one last minute. But then there is this tiny voice in your head that guides you and lets you step forward as if you were just walking as usual and then the magic begins. You have survived fear, now the only question is if you will survive the jump ! ;)

I still don't have the video to know for sure how I did, but what i remember from those moments is this vivid shock of first being thrown into thin air and falling down as if from a giant highrise - staring at the clouds. And then, within a fraction of a second, something happens, and you roll over and you are falling the right way - looking at the world below. Looking at the trees, the hills and the valleys, the lakes and streams, the tiny houses and the world far far below. 

You are just falling but then you raise your arms and you feel like you are flying. Flying towards something beautiful and majestic. Flying with nothing holding you back - with no pain or no fear, with no past or future, with no worries and no apprehensions. You are just living - amazed at what you see below you. Amazed at the wind all around you. You feel the pressure in your ears, the pain beginning in your head, the cold air on your skin, the sound of the wind gushing past you and yet, you can't keep your eyes off the world below you. The world you live in, the world you are a part of. The world that drives you crazy at times but it is also so heart-breakingly beautiful. You can probably not think of anything else for those few seconds, as you fly down like a majestic bird. And then somewhere after what feels like a minute, reality snaps on your heels and you are pulled up into the air. For a second, your heart gives a lurch but you soon realize that your chute has been opened and that the turbulence was only the beginning of a gentle glide down. You then stare at the world becoming more and more recognizable with every passing second. The roads are visible, the houses look more like themselves. The indistinguishable mass of green from the skies turns out to be trees and very soon you can see the cars and the bikes too. The dream is going to end and you will be landing soon, but you are waking up a different person. 

You made it. You jumped off a plane at 10,000 feet and you lived to tell the tale. It was a great experience - perhaps one of those few moments in life when you feel like you were reeeeaaaaally living. 

And while over the past year, I have taken many first steps, they all felt like the part of another of those to-do lists. They felt great but they also made me feel that something was missing. I have missed having my people in those moments - to share the joy or the sadness. But today, for the first time, I felt truly happy and alive. I felt light and strong. I realized that for the past year, I was probably living my dreams and that while it may not be perfect, It has been a great ride. Yes, a few things different would have made some things more wonderful, but things are pretty great even now and I should learn to enjoy them because, for all I know, these might be my last days/words... 













Sunday, April 8, 2012

Rabbit hole....

What happens when you lose someone ? When one fine day, you run out of the house, in the middle of your newspaper only to find out that destiny has played its cards and that the one person who made your life liveable is now gone. For ever. Taken into that abyss called time, where nothing penetrates. Where your screams and your tears are futile because what has gone is gone forever. 

Yes, there is grief.  So much, in fact, that it almost swallows your entire being... but sadly it is only almost. Because while the one you loved is gone, you are still left behind, trying to make sense of it all. Trying to find the pieces of your life. Looking for something that will make it all go away, for something that will let you change that one moment in time, when everything fell apart. If only you knew what was coming. You pick the threads of your life, trying to figure out where it began to unravel. You think of all the people who played a part and all those who didn't, in letting your life fall apart. You try and look for reasons to get up every morning because the one who mattered is no longer there. 

You find someone to blame for it all? Or you find someone to grieve with?
How do you grieve your own life ?

Do you bury yourself in work to tire and distract yourself from thinking, because you know that the moment you stop... everything will come back flooding in ? How do you empty your mind, like your life has become, because you are scared of what you find in it ? Do you try and erase every memory of the one you lost because he is everywhere. From those drawings on the wall, to those footprints on the porch, to the clothes in the closet, he is everywhere. How do you forget his smell, his voice or look when he was a part of you... ? How do you erase and wipe out the memories of someone like that ? How do you try and forget them because nothing else and no one else ever lets you... ?

But should you forget ? Should you let go of all those wonderful memories, of all those good things of the past, just because there seems to be no future... ? The memories are the gateway to finding the one you lost - to spending a few more minutes with them, far away from the cruel grasp of reality. Should you let go of that last reprieve too ? Shouldn't you just hold onto the past - to cherish it and protect it... so that at least the memories remain. 

How do you make peace with death of a loved one ? How do you start living again ?
Does the grief ever go away ?

"Becca: Does it ever go away ? 

Nat: No, I don't think it does. Not for me, it hasn't - has gone on for eleven years. It changes though.

Becca: How ? 

Nat: I don't know... the weight of it. I guess ! At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you crawl out from under and carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you.... you even forget it for a while. But then you reach for whatever reason and - there it is." 

 - Thoughts on the movie Rabbit hole.

Rubberbands...

I have had a few friendships in my lifetime but none like this one. 

Should I even call this a friendship ?

But then what better word do I have for two people who met by chance, enjoyed each other's company, discussed, bickered, joked, rambled and fought - only to start all over again?
But we certainly are strange friends.... to fight like kids at times only to take off from where we left, as if nothing happened in between (well, almost !).

Its a relationship that I fail to understand - for every time I give up and decide to let go of things, you come up with your silly questions and adorable expressions, only to make me forget, if not to forgive.

This relationship has become like a rubberband. We stay in touch, and pull each other's legs only to ultimately snap at each other. And then as the tension diffuses, the friendship is back on track almost as if nothing happened. And the cycle repeats - with no end in sight. But then with every snap and tug, we go closer and closer to the final break, when the bonds that hold us together will be frayed beyond repair and will no longer be able to keep us bound. And I don't want to go to that place where fond memories are permanently replaced by bitter, angry ones. Where talking doesn't come as effortlessly as it does now. Where fear of saying something wrong is stronger than the comfort of silence. 

I have been there and managed to come back - perhaps one too many times. And this constant coil and recoil is wearing me out... I wish there would be an end, one way or the other - this side or the other ! 


Friday, April 6, 2012

Rendezvousing with the past....

Cities are where I have spent the most of my life, intentionally or unintentionally. While I have fond memories of going back to my village, with time I have realized that cities are where I am most comfortable in. Despite all my complaints about that mass of humanity, the confluence of smells, colors and sounds that invariably overwhelm me, I know now that they also give me comfort in familiarity. Having lived in a few cities - Delhi, Bangalore and now San Diego, I have often wondered, which one is home for me - where I grew up, when I found myself or where I built my own home... ? I have often concluded (wrongly perhaps) that the designation of home only went to the one where my family resided but I now realize that it is more complicated than that. 

Cities in many ways are like people - I either like them enough to try and become friends with or just try and stay away. Some cities have grown on me over the years and I have grown out of some others. Delhi is the city which was home for almost a quarter of a century. I have grown with the city and still, when I left, it was a perfunctory goodbye. There was never a sense of departure. It always felt like I will come back to it, but then that's not how things played out and eventually its been a long time that I ve been to that city. And so, in many ways, I grew out of Delhi almost like growing out of a style statement. Never really, acknowledging it but still drifting away from it one day at a time. 

In the vacuum left behind by Delhi and its people, another city and its people found their niche. As a city, it changed a lot during my relatively short stay there and it has grown on me. I found myself in this city through friends, work and family and it is what i call my home today. I long to go back to it but for my people. 

Delhi on the other hand has a life of its own and I realized it when the opportunity of going back to it came up. For some reason, although I have no roots in that city now, I still long to go back; not to meet anyone, but to meet the city itself. Like the thought of meeting an old lover, meeting Delhi again after many years, thrilled me, excited me and terrified me. Imagining the roads, the lanes, the shops and the shopkeepers. Will things still be the same ? If i go back, will I find the road that I used to take to walk back home when i needed to think ? Who will I find in our old house ? Will the old neighbours still be there ? Will the markets still be there ? Will the city remember me now that I have no one there ? I doubt. But then, perhaps the owner of the old saree shop at SN market would remember me for the hours I spent chatting at every visit... ? Perhaps, I will still remember some of the old lanes around the house ? Perhaps, the maze in M. will still be the same and perhaps I will still get lost in the crowds ? 

Even though I have lived in Delhi for the most of my life, I have never known it well enough. Like a young man in love, the city had always revealed itself differently to me. In fact, even today, all i want to do is to go and see it with a new pair of eyes. To see it like the tourists, because there is so much that i still don't know. The narrow lanes of Old Delhi, the smells of paranthas and jalebis wafting from the old gallis, the clothes drying everywhere, the gallis selling books by the dozen - there are many places that I haven't been to and there are many that I don't remember any more. But, now, when I have the chance of visiting it one more time, I want to explore it all over again. I want to revisit the old and I want to explore the new. I want to see the city through the eyes of my camera because somehow that is when the world seems real to me... strange as this may sound, it is true ! The camera let's me see a world that I would have otherwise not seen; it makes me pay attention to colors, contrasts, lights, angles and textures which would have all otherwise escaped my attention. I want to go back and trace some of those old contacts which used to mean so much but to whom I didn't really bid farewell because it never felt necessary. I want to haggle with those store owners just like before and i want to run behind the buses for old times sake...  ;)

Yes, there was so much I never used to like - the dust, the smoke, the paan stains, the smell of dried urine at the corners, the mass of humanity, the rudeness, the wickedness, the leery eyes on the roads.... but despite all that, Delhi beckons me. I want to end this awkward estrangement with the city. I want to meet it one more time, if only to say a final goodbye ! 

It is a city that has grown with me and in it lie buried somewhere my tears and my thoughts and my dreams of idealism. In its air, there is somewhere, the sound of wheezing lungs gasping for air and the laughter of a girl in pain. In its brick walls, there is somewhere, the girl who believed that anything could be done and that people changed. In its sounds, there is somewhere the sound of radical thought as I fought rules and tradition. In its climes, there is my childhood and my youth. 

It sure was a beautiful friendship but with time we've both grown apart, moving our different ways. But I still need to say my final goodbyes ! I still need to preserve snapshots of the friendship that was for the years to come, because, we are both still growing and soon enough, there might be very little that we may even recognize of each other.

Looking forward to meeting you again... "Dilli meri jaan" ! :)