Never Underestimate Your Past

In moments when I've found myself utterly confused and utterly in doubt my past has revealed to me a sight I had not seen while living through the moments long gone. Maybe it's the growth in us as a person or more precisely the changes we have undergone which gives a whole new meaning to what had been and a new, different perspective to our old eyes. I'm in no way saying that the solutions to our present lies exclusively in our past. But for most part, speaking from personal experience it has always helped me in ways I could not have thought of. I have found the roots to some of my problems by tracing it to my past. The experiences I have gone through and the people I have met somehow give me the clues if not the answers to questions that troubled me in my recent past. I am also in no way saying that only solutions lay in our past. More often than not there are more confusion and more doubts lurking around in our past than in our present. Nothing loves chaos more than the present. And when the present stumbles its way into the confused past, the effect can be rather drastic and dramatic.

It is impossible I think to deal with all the problems and issues of the present moment at those precise moments, leaving nothing left to be resolved or sorted out. If we could be so organized, quick-witted and far-sighted life would be simply put, quite simple. But we all know it isn't possible and such theories, rather ideas are just good to make us feel good. They serve no other purpose. Because we take time to solve our problems, if at all we are able to figure them out in the first place, the past always remains a territory we often have to visit to lead a more sensible/sane present. This reminds me of how my sister always told us to move clutters away from the house, to make things organized and give more space for the room to breathe. I guess it is the same with our lives. When the past is cluttered and the present is seeking more space there is no other way to do so without cleaning up the mess and trying to clear our past.

I have had to face several such circumstances. I won't say I'm proud of how I have dealt with most of them. Many times, I have just resorted to ignoring the problem altogether and turning a deaf ear to all the pleas of the voices of my past. But there have been times when I've been overwhelmed by it all and completely broken down. Times when I've fallen to pieces and then after the tears, recollected them all, putting them to their places. The collected calm after a breakdown, the peace in one's heart is something else altogether! That doesn't mean one needs to go through a breakdown to feel that peace. What I don't like about dealing with the past, its many twisted turns and hidden alleys is not the uncertainty of it ever being resolved, but the fear of getting lost in them. I mean give me a cluttered and messed up room any day! I can pick the piles of dirty clothes up and soak them overnight and wash them in the morning. I can dust the speakers, the tables and the computers. I can sweep the floor and mob them later. I can do all these and while humming a song or shaking a leg or two as well... But I have no clue how to clean up my past, how to resolve the unanswered and the mysterious confusions, how to deal with the onslaught of the emotions that almost always follows such endeavors.

But now I am dealing with some monsters, some clutters and some mess of my past. I have taken the first few steps. I have ventured into the darkness. I am now climbing down one step at a time, holding on to the railing of my present that links to my past. My faith and believe, guiding my steps down the stairway. I am hoping to find my home. I am hoping it welcomes me just the way I am. I hope it breathes some life into me and tells me 'It's okay, you just go there and live.'

Follow Your Heart And Hit Destination Happiness!

The heart speaks to us every moment, every day. Sometimes it keeps on tugging at the very string of our existence so much so that we wish if it could shut up for good. Our lives are built around the milestones where we have either truly listened to our hearts or muffled its voice. Those are the times, the twists and the turns which define our lives. Those moments are what make our lives remarkable. The critical points where we decided to step up or step out, walk in or walk out, believe or doubt, trust or betray, fall or rise, surrender or fight, hold on or let go… they make the person that we become, the emotions and thoughts we harbor, they make our lives.

Life’s choices are options in disguise of circumstances and situations which ordain our destiny. The choices make us who we are. Whether we are going in for something or out of it or don’t do anything about it, no matter what, we always end up choosing. The option to not choose is also a choice by default. When we make a choice, we may either be following our heart or turning a deaf ear towards its mumblings. Where do our choices lead us then? Does it fill our lives with happiness or do we still hunger for it?

The way we are, we all want happiness in our lives. Anything happy or joyous attracts us and makes us feel good inside. Nobody wants to befriend sorrow or disappointments in life. If our make up is such then certainly our hearts would surely want something happy and joyous for the person in whom it is beating. The heart’s wishes and longings in its barest and truest form, only speaks of what would bring happiness to us. No partiality or inclination digress a true heart’s desire. Its intentions are always true and genuine, like those of a young child barely few years old. For in today’s time even a child, who has just become 2 digit years old, fails to remain uncorrupted by the ways of the world! The uncorrupted and undiluted hearts’ wishes when followed right to the ‘T’ would then only result in happiness. The catch however is, we don’t consciously look for happiness when we are kids. It is not a thought out thought or planned out action. It’s just how it is. Like when you ‘just be’ sometimes. But once we grow up, our actions and decisions tend to become less and less involuntary and more and more calculated or thought out. The genuineness of the heart fails to transform into a genuine act. Then there are just heartaches and disappointments galore. The fault isn’t in the hearts’ murmurs but in the medium through which we translate and decipher its words. We can feel as chilled at the height of summer in an AC room as in winter. The air blowing through the vent may compel you or even succeed in making you feel you are in the coldest place on the planet. But the freshness and the chills of the wind blowing in your face and ruffling your clothes as you stand with your arms stretched wide open atop a mountain is something else altogether. Pure and pristine, cold and calming, what it does to you and how it makes you feel is completely different from the experience in an AC room. When we hear our heart speak and carefully listen to it, catching every word, every sound, every expression and understanding what it is trying to tell us and acting on it without much ado is when we can know for sure, wherever it is that our hearts are taking us, our happiness lies there.

HOW TO SLEEP WELL EVEN IN OFFICE

Instruction Manual:

* Make sure it's the day your boss would not be expecting much from you
* Try and keep as silent as possible
* Be determined to lay low so no one misses you when you doze off
* Having a cubicle with a partition would really help
* A lot of leg room would help as well
* Turn deaf when any work is about to come to you so that it diverts off by default
* Appear lost throughout
* Awesome if you are always lost, no matter what
* Pray for a sluggish weather
* Pray also for a no-show from your boss

Things to AVOID AT ALL COST!

* Making any kind of sound while sleeping
* No, sound sleep doesn't mean snoring while sleeping
* Snoring should be a punishable offense for making life difficult for other peaceful office sleepers
* Try not to be caught
* If caught taking a nap, act lost
* If you are always lost then nothing like it!

I didn't know when I slept. I know when I laid my head down and closed my eyes. But I don't remember when I slept. I came to know only when I woke up. So, in all probability it was an involuntary action of the body and the mind with no co-relation with my conscious and alert mind. Even if I had slumbered off I should not be accounted responsible since I was venturing into the world of dreams for inspiration which otherwise was lacking in the real world of f***ed up systems. Therefore, it should come under non-punishable offense and taken as a warning for those who leave behind a staff lost without directions and finding no other means of inspiration than in the dreamworld.

RABIPUR TO JAIPUR AND BACK TO RABIPUR AGAIN

So, did the dog bite actually act as a catalyst for my desire to get out of the city even if for a short while? Maybe yes! Blessing in disguise, I guess. But not really a happy route to achieve something one wants, considering not just the pain of the bite but the piercing of the needles as well. I got my injections not one but two at a time, one for tetanus and the other one 'Rabipur' for the dog bite itself. Both were intramuscular injections. I will have to admit it hurt being my first ever injection below the belt and the first one in years!

After my first Rabipur I was in Jaipur within a couple of days. I had thought of making the most of the 3 continuous holidays but also realised it would not be an easy task to carry out. It was all in my head.

Talked and thought it out with my friend Sunny from the night before to most part of the day. Another one of our friend, Pammi, later joined in. After much contemplation, deciding, not deciding, apprehension on my friend's part, hesitation for permission, almost 'no' permission to a 'yes' permission, not able to start in the evening itself to starting out late, a hell of a rain on the way to spooky roadways, almost running out of petrol to making it and more with the feared quantity, dread of a hot summery days to drizzly cold nights and day, running up the fort, feeling on top of the world, finding our 'sweet' spot to getting blown away by the 'top', misguiding an old fellow with a 1km scare to laughing our hearts out on the way back, extreme close-up of our filthy mouths to a 'night duel' on the bed, an impromptu climb up a rocky mountain to really feeling like on top of the world, a dead man on the highway to three 'just lived till exhausted' men on the way back home - it was simply a trip to remember.

Once back it was time to get going again, for the dog had bitten and gone, but I was still to pay for its deed. And this time, the nurse got me a little more pain than the last time. I wonder if they get a kick out of it? Perhaps they do. A little excitement in a mundane life is always a welcome change. Like our sojourn to the pink city added something to our lives and changed it in some way or the other. I have realised some things.

I have thought out a hell lot of other things. The unpredictability of life is what makes it worth living. The excitement is the highest when the predictability is the lowest. Once we set it in our minds, we will perhaps learn to live... not try to or yearn to... but live, in real.

And in those couple of days we perhaps lived in real. Although we are back to the realities of our own lives now, the feeling of having lived those moments would always see us through till another one of those trip comes to the rescue. So, cheers to the moments!

How To Get Yourself Bitten By A Dog

Instruction Manual:

* Have a look that says you are drunk tired
* Make sure you are late from work the night before
* Hold nothing in your hands
* Carry a huge bag full of nothings
* Walk stealthily like a thief
* Act as you don't see the dog
* Hum an old forgettable classic
* Ignore the dog and carry on with your business

I did just that, and that's how I got bitten by a dog! You don't need to follow the instructions to the 'T'. Try and be more innovative and creative. Know and read the dog's mind, which social strata the dog belongs to, what kind of people would he be interested in biting, go to that place where you would qualify as the ideal target, visualise what kind of activities you need to be doing to attract the dog's unwanted attention, make sure whatever you do is a bite-led activity, the first interaction is crucial in order to generate the curiosity in a dog to actually waste his crucial bite on you, ask yourself the question 'If you were a dog what would make you bite yourself?'

And when you do get yourself bitten don't run from the site, just act stupid and still for a second or two, then keep walking as if nothing happened. After walking a while, flash that victorious smile on your face for having achieved your goal and actually making the dog believe that it was his own doing. And if he regrets biting you, it would be his guilt and nothing would be bugging your conscience. So, what's stopping you? Go and get a bite!

Good Night, Good Morning and Good Whatever!

Getting back to the good old habits is very easy to do so. The mind and the body tend to return to its usual rhythm when they have detected a change in its patterns. A change no matter how beneficial or healthy if found unsuitable by the body is faced with an enormous resistance. It takes a really resolute and determined mind to undermine the resistance of the body. It’s a long fight till the change becomes a habit.

He had been trying to make the changes into a habit for the past few months now. The only problem being the fact that there wasn’t a constant pace in which his life was moving. The non-uniform media life was followed by a relaxed and comfortable long break succeeded by an unstable phase of finding a job and then adjusting to a new way of professional life. Finally, when the healthy rhythm started to set in, his old ‘news’ life greeted him in a reincarnated form.

Walking back home at 3am in the morning, he met some strange stares from the policemen at the check post, stranger glances from two-three people taking a stroll on the street and initial wild barks from dogs which later turned into slow howling as they approached him from behind with their tails wagging generously. As he reached his home, he couldn’t help smile at the way things had turned out to be. He had longed for a regular and routine life. Not the 9-5 job but at least some sense of working hours. Although it was one of the rare days or nights, he felt a sense of déjà-vu in the way things were beginning to take shape. Every job is at the end of the day just the same. It is work and nothing else. Doesn’t matter if the whens and hows feel unjustified sometimes, the fact of the matter is work needs to be done. That’s it. As plainly and bluntly put. Time had always been a constraint with him and even now it was a luxury he had to work hard for. The irony is, there is not enough time when his heart is set on something, but there’s ample to waste when nothing is all he has for company.

Once he got back home, he got fresh and after having something to eat called it a night. Finally some rest. He had been frustrated almost the whole day in office. The inability to crack any ideas or come up with some concepts had bothered him since morning. And staying awake till late the night before didn’t seem to help with his failure to launch into brilliant arrays of ideas and concepts. His mind was as barren as it ever was.

As office hours came to an end, it was time for goodbyes and goodnights. But the work had just started for him. The lights at the empty cubicles had been switched off. Only two cabins were still well lit and well populated. It was at times like this when he felt if work can at all justify for the lost life, the lost moments and the lost time. A few good moments with loved ones, sharing a good laugh or two, catching up with old friends and teasing each other, after all life is really about the people in one’s life more than anything else.

The work got going at a very slow pace. The feeling in him was similar to the one who was in a hurry but he was driving behind someone enjoying the slow drive with all the time in the world, that too in a narrow lane. Hours piled up like some old archived files which needed to be sorted and a feeling of another weekend gone to waste sunk in within him. But he was adamant he wasn’t going to let it control his life. So, he got along with his work and did his best. Somehow the best wasn’t enough on this particular night. His efforts turned futile one by one and he could slowly see his spirit was falling to pieces.

Lying on his bed, everything felt at peace once again. But the broken pieces take time to come together and mend. And the scars… they lay hidden or visible… reminders of a time he may well forget to think about, but would leave him feeling broken all over again.

DEADLINES OR DEAD LINES!

Meeting deadlines means one is closer to the fulfillment of one's target and ultimately one's goal. The time and effort taken, collectively as well as on an individual level is humongous. Each one plays their part. A lack of enthusiasm or ideas on one's part may hinder the progress of the work as a whole. One must realise the significance and the importance of one's role in any work that is not independent but involves team work. It is at such times that I find myself under-performing or missing out on some details which by any means should not have been left out in the first place. It also at times like these that one feels the pressure more and is pressed for time, ideas to generate and words to flow smoothly. And to have a complete mental block at such times, only acts as oil to an already intensely burning fire. So, then one finds that one has to wait for the road block to move aside and a path to follow. When pressed for time and ideas, one has to compensate for the wasted unproductive time and work. How does one do that, one may ask. Simply do overtime and some more overtime.

Finishing up the work, polishing it in the morning, adding some more interesting stuff, basically editing and re-editing it again. With such meetings of the deadline at the nth hour, the best somehow falls short of being the best and the good just settles for an average. People say working such hours is not only going to affect your health which in time may lead to something more serious and unavoidable but it might become a habit too.

Few deadlines, just one or two, did the trick for me and I was already in need of some love and care. But no love or care came by way. The only thing besides getting done with the work in hand is another work on its way. To find oneself feeling a sense of deja vu is seriously not the best thing to feel, especially when it is just another beginning.

As long as you are in it, you kind of get a feeling about it. When you are out of it, you realise what a mess you had been in. Perhaps it's my time to realise what a mess it really is. Perhaps! The catch is, 'What if the outside is messier than the inside?' What then? Let's just say, let's keep it real and see what comes next.