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Written at: Mahathma Nature Cure Centre, Kannur, Kerala

I only just realised how warped the concept of self-worth has been for most of us. We’re constantly under the influence of the media, social and cultural pressures, striving to attain an ideal we are rarely able to achieve. Surely, some of us do. But I’m talking about those of us who constantly feel a sense of lacuna, in spite and despite of having done everything in our reach.

I realize we attach way too much importance to worldly achievements: it matters what school you went to, what grades you managed, how many extra-curriculars you participated in, career choices you made, how “successful” you have been in getting to the top, how accepted you are in the social circles and how many people you call “friends”. Of course, the list goes on. I have been as much victim to this sort of thinking and I’m sure I continue to be even as I write this, but the realization that I’m more than just these is reassuring.

Having grown up in a city like Bombay, I have always been too busy running after dreams that are far too ambitious. I may achieve what I want some day, or maybe I shall not. But the problem isn’t in being ambitious, or wanting to pursue worldly riches. The problem arises when these achievements become conditions to evaluate the self. Am I worthy of anything if I’m not XYZ? I’m good at ABC but I’m not that (whatever that achievement might be in our head) so maybe I’m not that good.

One always works with the assumption that once you have XYZ, you will feel worthy, you will feel happy. But do we really ever get there? Perhaps not, I’m pretty sure if we covered everything from A to Z in terms of achievements, there would still be something, something we don’t quite have. Clearly, the problem is not one of achievements, but one of perception. A perception of the self that is far too conditional, one that undermines that everything that has been achieved or learnt as being just another achievement and not really significant. Not quite enough!

Well, it’s for the first time I realize that I’m more than my achievements. It’s for the first time I find significance in doing things I always thought as being far too trivial and “unproductive” (A capitalist trap, perhaps?). At this point of time, I don’t have a job, I don’t have a bank balance to see me through unemployment, I’m not in the best of health and I have pretty much nothing a “modern”, urban-bred 27-year old educated woman should have. I will not deny this fact haunts me often, but I’m not going to let such ideas take me down. Our perceptions of self are far too conditional and it’s time we decided the amount of value we place on our “self” ourselves. I’m glad I finally experienced a sense of self-worth which is beyond worldly achievements. In spite of what I have or don’t have, I feel worthy of life!

PS: The monsoons and the green hills work wonders for my creative juicesJ thank you Mother Nature! 

iTeach

As a student in school as well as in college, I took pride in being the in-house teacher for my class mates. Several children experience difficulty in asking questions in class for they are worried their questions are silly and people may think they’re dumb. But with me, they were happy to ask whatever they wanted and I was happy to help. It’s not just my messiah complex, but I genuinely enjoy teaching. In fact, the prospect of teaching somebody else makes me push myself. I question my intellect “Do I really know this?” and work extra hard to obtain absolute clarity. It’s pleasurable. Too bad I didn’t want to become a teacher by profession. I guess I felt it came to me so naturally that there would be no real challenge in doing something you are already good at?

In any case, I’m terrified of public speaking. I even repress memories of the few times I’ve actually had to address an audience, be it a classroom or just office colleagues. It only involved me being unable to prepare for I’m too inconfident about everything I plan to say. “Is this what I really want to say? Does this really mean this? Am I too fast? Is this unclear? Is this unstructured?” Classic case of performance anxiety.

It is only recently that I decided that it was time I stopped being so scared. May be I do have something to offer to a student. I believed my gut and applied to a coaching institute offering to teach sociology to their students. They readily agreed. In fact, they want me to teach some other general stuff as well. Woohoo! I went home happy. In any case, this is to start only a month later, thus leaving me with enough time to prepare myself for the exercise.

The next day, the lady from the institute calls and says, “Hey are you free to take a class tomorrow?”

Me on the other side of the phone “Umm tomorrow? (Always pays to sound like an eager beaver when it concerns a prospective job…dam) Yeah, sure!”

Lady: “Okay see you at 7:30 AM tomorrow”

In such a situation, what should someone be doing? Start preparing immediately, perhaps! But what do I do? Just prance around the house restlessly, tire myself out and sleep off. I’m so hyper that I’m dysfunctional to even prepare for class.

It is only by 11 PM that I decide that it’s high time I get my act together. Somehow, in an hour’s time I conclude that I know everything I need to know and all I need is a sheet of paper with pointers about what I’d like to say. I thought, if I don’t know what the students don’t know, how can I even prepare?”

I reach class to see my “students” who are only a year or two younger than me. Gulp!

The class began; at first I was a little confused. I had to stop a couple of times to ask if they were on the same page as me. Luckily, the class was interactive and had more gyaan to offer than I did. Fortunately, none of it was refined enough. Once I figured what it is I knew more than them, it was easier to proceed. No one beats me at political correctness and that’s all I had to teach them. They’re going to need it to take the exam anyway. Soon, I got a grip and next thing I notice is that people are taking notes in my class!

When the class was over, I was elated. I was the same person who always feared making presentations in class, struggled to articulate what I wanted to say and was usually the student no teacher ever noticed, only because I made myself invisible even as I sat on the first bench, always.

And here I was, taking a class on Indian Society. A remarkable leap I say, iFear to iCan!

Hide and Seek

Our mind is a funny thing, an entire universe resides in that little space. I find it fascinating, that so much goes on in there. Depending on our circumstances, events take priority. When you are hungry, you can think of nothing but food. But if you are loaded with work, you might even be able to forget that you are starved. It is only when you get time off and bite into a sandwich do you realize how hungry you have actually been. Almost like you can hide, even from yourself. 

I am told my biggest fear in the world is to be lonely. Once this "fact" was known to me, all I have done is to work around it; worked towards telling myself that irrespective of "life", I will be "OK". At most times, I convince myself alright. Time and again, I have proven to myself my own capabilities that I may have underestimated or of which I have been mostly unaware. At other times in the day, there is no time to think except during the commute to work. The minute I step into office, work, like a whirlpool, takes over and makes me switch off, from "me" the personal to me, the "professional".

Yet, when the door at work shuts close, the mind opens up to itself the concerns that it managed to suppress through the day. But, there is the option to succumb to fatigue and just sleep. Let the symbolic world scare you with gory images; you can always wake up. 

It is only times like these, when my artificial busy world crumbles down, when sleep evades you and your emotions loom large. It is only at times like these that I realise how much I hate to be lonely...how much I detest to "feel" lonely. 

I guess it's good to know that irrespective, we all survive. 

Happy Realisation

In retrospect, I have to admit that the year 2012 has been relatively hard on me. But along with that, some wonderful things have happened to me as well. I went for Vipassana; had the opportunity to stay in silence for 10 whole days and get exposed to the Buddhist technique of meditation. And along with it, a philosophy, a worldview. 

We learnt it on Day 4 after much anticipation for 3 days. The first few days you're just wondering what exactly you're doing "watching" your breath and how exactly this observation of inhalation and exhalation is actually going to change your life. In any case, before we began, we were asked to stay still throughout the 2 hours of the process where the technique was being taught and to keep our eyes shut. Turns out, it isn't as easy as you might imagine to stay still for 2 hours. What's worse, the more closely you watch yourself, the more aware you are of every itch, every tiny tickle, every stretch, every ache, every pain. It's hard. But I remember that day vividly. 

The 2 hours ended, and when I opened my eyes, I felt like something had changed in me. I was never going to be the same again. And that realisation has stayed with me. And the realisation has become deeper, by the fact that I realise that with every changing moment, we change as people. Often, we find ourselves repeating our actions, words, behaviours. We can't stop procrastinating, we can't stop ourselves from feeling bad about ancient break-ups, we can't stop aching for the friends we lost, the opportunities we missed, we're unable to change habits in ourselves that we so detest. We feel like we're doing the same thing and even that cycle of repetition is irritating. But perhaps, with every passing moment, we're that many moments away from that event, that habit, that loss, that pain. That moment has passed and so shall this one. It seems like it's the same, but may be it's not. It's only a matter of being aware and knowing, that this too shall pass. Someday you will not ache so deeply and some day we will learn to embrace life in its entirety. 

Paranoid Android II

I suppose the last time I wrote about my paranoid myself, I thought it was just a tiny part of me that was activated in certain situations. That it was really the situation, you know.

And it's only recently that I realize, it's not a part of me, paranoia is me. And no, I don't intend this as a joke. Humour isn't really what's on my mind nowadays. Though I sincerely hope, that someday, I can look back at these troubled times and laugh out loud at myself and my fears, which will be amusing then. A little like how the day your best friend said she didn't want to be friends with you anymore in class IV and it seemed like life was the worst thing that happened to you.

The first time a friend of mine said to me, “Perhaps you are a little too anxious. May be you should get help”. I laughed. I thought it was just him and his "counsellor self" that was getting a little too creative. And I don't know what came first, me feeling anxious or the label of being anxious. Did him mentioning it actually lead to the realization or it's creation? But all throughout, it has been funny. My first visit to a psychotherapist had a part of me telling myself, “Haha, you don't really need this. But you may be better off if you got help. You're okay without”

At first, there was a feeling of anxiety and I always managed to put a face on to my feeling. I had a good reason to be anxious, or worried or just sad. But it was usually phases. And the problem was never me. It was always other people. Or so I thought. It's only now that I realize that there is perhaps, a problem. I still wonder, was it the label that brought this upon myself? Or did it actually give me an opportunity to sit back and be honest with myself? May be this will be a chance to confront my deepest fears? Ideally, a psychiatrist can help. But I'm thinking, if I can can get through this by myself, then may be I won't dread living so much. Life won't arouse so many fears, so many worries. For there is nothing more serious, nothing more scary in the world, than losing your mind.

The Knot

“So when are you tying the knot?”

For most women beyond the age of 25, the question is not very uncommon to hear. The chachis, the mamis and the buas do start to get a little concerned about the spinster lot in their extended family. Surprisingly, I haven’t been asked that question too often, mostly because of the fact that I went to Xaviers’ college and pursued higher education in Delhi. The former already qualified me as being ‘different’ since the college carries a reputation of admitting all the hippies in town. The latter of course, is explained by the former explanation, ‘She’s different’…(And different, in a not-so-good way). Almost like for a girl to want to be well-educated disqualifies her from normalcy. Anyhow.

But the more important point that I have been preoccupied with is the one about tying the knot. When friends ask me that question, I’m wondering...Where is the suitable boy? Cliché as it sounds, I’m beginning to wonder if I have ever met a man who doesn’t in a tiny part of his brain actually believe that he is entitled to do whatever shit he likes, cuz well, he was born a ‘man’, the privileged birth amongst the two genders! Oh, the lucky bastard! He has a penis! His job is done and he needn't work any harder to achieve anything more in life. The rest of his life shall be a pursuit of activities that only go to reassure him of his masculinity. Of course, most men would deny this allegation when questioned about it. It’s not in any part of their ‘conscious’ being that they have managed to acknowledge even to themselves that this belief underlies all their behaviour. But their behaviour is the key to most actions. Ever tried asking a man to change, or to be different, or to be more sensitive, understanding or caring? The response is universal. They all either think that they ALREADY ARE all of those things and more…and that you expect way too much out of them. OR that they shall change in the future. But did he really change? Find me a man who ACTUALLY once sat down to question himself or his beliefs or understand the sentiments of other people? Why should he? He’s a man! Take it or Leave it.

So what are your options? Either you tie the knot with the hope that they will actually change or if you care even a little bit about your well-being, steer clear from the ‘knot’ lest you’d like to sign up for life full of knotty situations!

Of Time and its Toll

Chronologically, I’m not that old. Perhaps this is the prime of my youth. I should embrace life with open arms, take risks like I never did before, weekends should strictly be spent being intoxicated, relationships should be stuff I indulged in only as a teenager and ‘action’ (pun unintended) should be the only aspiration. But strangely, none of the above things seem particularly exciting. Neither incessant states of inebriation nor the idea of being wooed by a host of men…cheap thrills seem to be rushes I grew out of even before I began to entirely appreciate them.

Perhaps the one activity that always put me in touch with my youth was driving. The car was not the vehicle to drive me to the destination, it was as though the mere technical skill of shifting gears and pumping up the speedometer drove me to the moon. And it was an overwhelming feeling; it was the feeling of being capable, of being independent, confident and powerful… the feeling of sheer possibility, of hope! But after yesterday, not even that remains. The car is a car, a mode of transport I’m licensed to move around and it brings me home. Somehow, I’m led to believe that old age is making its presence felt in my life in more ways than one, it’s not just the premature graying of hair; it’s the state of my soul.