Just as I am... without a plea...

Is the title of a hymn.

Is also a topic on which loads of poems, odes and songs have been written and sung. This terrible need to be loved, just the way you are, faults and all, is a universal hunger. Love which isn't only of the romantic variety, be it filial or in friendships, every one of us echoes this sentiment... the yearning to be allowed to be what we are and be loved despite.

As many people as there are and as many opinions that they may evince, to me this is the toughest thing to do and is really the true test of love. Can you love without being judgemental. Be it with your parents, partners, children, friends and the many relationships we have, can we really love them without trying to mould them, modify them, mend and bend them into being what we want them to be.

Each of us has our own set criteria of what is acceptable and correct and of that which is not. Our minds are made up and anything or anyone who doesn't fit into these little squares needs to be transformed into little clones of ourselves, to be mindful of and obedient of our rules. We constantly endeavor to change the people around us while claiming undying love for them.

And that is the greatest of all fallacies...

Understand this
As I comprehend that being you is essential to you
To breathe... to grow... to live...
I will step back
Fly away into a realm where you celebrate your life
We will meet... in those in-between spaces...
When you come to me
As I surely know you will, this love will draw you
Come as you... the one who is free...
Just as I am... without a plea

( Mother- if you ever read this... please know that I'm not being blasphemous)

Lorenzo forever...

I officially became a mother on the 27th August 1995 with Amanda's birth but my heart was pulled out of me and walked away on 24 October 1992 with the birth of Lorenze Dorian, my oldest nephew.
1992 was the year I got married and my sister-in-law Zeeta was pregnant with Lorenze. As is customary in Indian families, a girl returns to her parental home during her first pregnancy, for her confinement and delivery. Zeeta came to live with her parents, my in-laws for the last 2 months of her pregnancy which were busy spent in preparing for the arrival of the first grand child of the family.

On the evening of the 24th October, Zeeta went into labor and Lorenzo was born at 9:24 pm. He was swaddled in white when the nurses brought him out of the Labor room and handed him over, first to his uncle Egbert and then to me. I'm not exaggerating, but he smelled of brown rum, his father Ludger's favorite drink!! It was the first time I held a new born in my arms and I held him gingerly but with great caution not really knowing whether I would drop him with my clumsiness or worse yet crush him with my nervous hands. Battling this fear, I peered into this little bundle with wrinkled skin and eyes that were unwilling to open since he would peer with an eye and shut it immediately as if afraid to look at the world, and I fell in love. Completely.

Lorenze spent the first 2 months of his life in the family home and it was the most heavenly time. As a young bride adjusting into the ways and culture of a new home, it was like Lorenze and me were doing the same thing, taking first baby steps into an unknown realm and I guess we bonded. As he grew, he couldn't pronounce my name and since he was a year old, he's been calling me 'Bitta', which is now fashionably shortened to 'Bits'.

Onzo, our name for him, would come to Mangalore thrice or four times a year and we would go to Bangalore as many times to be with him. Every time it was time to part, he would begin crying and I would promptly join. We have shed many a tear at bus stations, him in the bus and me on the road, him wailing 'Bitta' and me sobbing uncontrollably. That child held my heart in his hands and still does as a 20 year old young man today.

My Lorenzo is 20 years old and is a rare gem, he is completely lovable, terribly intelligent, a brilliant orator, an awful singer, a prolific bassist, an organised student pursuing his engineering studies and above all and most importantly, is the young man you wish was yours. He is gentle, kind, and an accomplished diplomat far mature than his young years. Onzo is our first child and will always be special, the beauty of being him is that he has never let us down. Has always proved our faith in him and every year he acquires better skills, is more polished and is on the way to being a complete man.

ONZO... this is for you... my life changed the minute you walked into it. I became a better person. You are everything I love and I love everything about you, including your crooked long nose that showed promise of being like mine but ended up like your dad's. You are a gift to me and our family crazy as it is, will be bound by our common love for you and you will be the strongest link that will hold us I'm sure. May the future rise up to meet you with a promise of brilliance and when success comes a calling 'cos she sure as hell will, may you be humble enough to be affable and tenacious enough to sustain.

The companion of my emptiness.

When you walked in last night
seemingly exhausted, tired and worn
Do you think I missed the twinkle in your eyes
The skip in your gait
The lilt in your voice
The joy in your stance

I watch you with eyes that pretend not to see
Maybe I fool myself too well and you fall for it I can tell
When you laugh, I hear the footprints he left on your heart
You shine, like a million glow worms have pierced your soul
Your fingertips, they whisper unknowingly along the satin of your skin
Did he carve that path you are mimicking...

Marvellous, this new romance bringing to you the flush of joy
Of forgotten embers that once warmed you as it burned me
Yes, it hurts.
I want to reach across and slap you, maim you, wound you, tear you apart
How dare you, how can you, how will you
I linger for a moment in self pity and sorrow

When at last your moment in the sun of another planet has ended
And end it will, this novelty will bore you
The treachery will tear you
Its misery awaken you
Tread stealthily my love, this heart has taken flight
As you walk back towards me, know this
I'm broken, shattered, twisted, knotted...

A mirror whose shards of glass twinkle as they pierce...
Whisper softly, tiptoe gently and be the companion of my emptiness.

Honesty isn't any policy at all; it's a state of mind or else it isn't honesty...

It has been drummed into me that honesty is the best policy and that an honest person is a favorite of the Gods and being honest ives you immediate access to paradise.
It also is a quality I like and admire in people. But have you noticed that people who are very honest and up front most often than naught do not seem to be able to keep and sustain relationships.

Some relationships that are bound by societal norms and are hard to break survive the "what you see is what you get" partners and tolerate it and some how learn to live with it.

Freindship isn't though and I find that amazingly complicated. After all this is the
one relationship where there is no pretence or guile and should not be, this should be a place of supreme confidence in the self as well as in the other.

But I guess our capacity to take the truth and honesty from the other is a unique and individual thing. Maybe the truth which can be very harsh at times should not be expressed without thought and we should stop feeling so holier-than-thou just 'cos we think we have done the absolute right thing by speaking the truth. Diplomatic and discerning skills should be applied in all relationships.

Am I advocating dishonesty then? My children will be the first ones to slap me... after all these years that I have been drumming into their heads about honesty and its virtues.
"Do not mistake freindship for a license to tell the truth. More pain has been inflicted by indiscriminate truth telling than by lies. Honesty too often means being hurtful and wounding someone. As long as you keep true counsel with yourself, it doesn't hurt if you dissemble with a freind." - David Brown

A lie, it isn't and should not be... the truth... before it marches on, needs to be checked, weighed, evaluated... If in your heart you are aware that what you say is hurtful... then maybe it shouldn't be said.
There are after all very many methods of conveying a thought with finesse and tact.... like when Alder tells me, 'You're not fat... you're almost the same size as Adele'.

Prayers... answered...

Have read this somewhere, that the worst thing that can happen to you is having all your prayers answered.
Quite a thought, we spend hours actively or passively praying, praying can even be simple wish that stems unbidden in the corners of your soul.
Fatalistic the thought isn't it... is it a consolation or self deception when we pacify ourselves with the above adage...
Bottom line being... I guess... that you make the best of what you have, whether you prayed hard for it or not....

“What the teacher is, is more important than what he teaches" -Soren Kierkegaard

Today is celebrated as Teacher's Day in India, in memory of Sarvapalli Radhakrishna, India's second President and is a day we celebrate our teachers' influence in our lives.

Many teachers have taught me in school and college, but there are only four I remember fondly... Yeah I was a nasty piece of sh*t.

So, Sister Veronica taught me in the 3rd grade, Mrs. Aruna KP taught me in the 8th grade, Mr. Uday Kumar taught me Economics in Law College and Prof. Rajendra Shetty, the Vice Principal of the SDM Law College who taught, The Law of Torts. Wonderful souls these, God Bless them and their vocation.

The batch of '94 that passed out of SDM Law college had their first ever reunion in August 2012 in the college auditorium to begin with at a decent mid morning hour, which ended in the disco and the beach, at a very indecent midnight hour of course.

I was lucky to be in Mangalore at the time and attend it. We met with our teachers in college. Prof. Rajendra Shetty, though has grown older is still the most dapper and stylish man I have ever seen. He inspired us by his looks, his carriage and dignity. His suave style was something we drooled over, was serious eye candy and he gave all the boys in the college, tough competition. Add to it, he was a brilliant orator and a warm and genuine personality... besides, he just validated my adulation by saying with a twinkle in his eye, that he remembered me vividly.

Funnily, we didn't start out that way. As beginnings go, it was the most disastrous prelude.

Reyana, Jolly, Shyams and I joined Law College, from St. Agnes, 'twas akin to Melville's Moby Dick waking up in an NYC nightclub. We were green and gauche, stupid and silly (ok! there persist some remnants to date :S) and I remember practicing the dandiya dance which we were performing for the annual day and some skirmish with students from the BBM batch where I ended up hurling a dandiya at a male student and maiming him. Which Prof. Rajendra witnessed, unfortunately. Sigh!

It was one of the many trips I made to the Principal's office and I was slapped with a three month suspension from college. But it was too close to the annual day and since we had spent weeks practicing, I was allowed to perform on stage.

Legs quaking like jelly, I stepped on to the stage with the rest of our troupe led by Pallo rani and when I saw Rajendra Shetty in the front row, jelly morphed into cement and I froze until Kuki poked me with the dandiya. Took me about a minute for the rhythm of the music to swamp me and then there was no fear, no audience, no one...

Once we were done and stepped out backstage to join the audience, Rajendra Shetty was at the corridor. Gave me the most beautiful smile and said, "if you can dance like that, you cannot be all bad, come to class tomorrow" and walked away. :)

Back to the present! He began his speech by thanking us, for being 'his teachers' and for continually challenging him. The joy on his face sparkled and we were transported back in time into the classroom where we would sit in rapt attention and absorb every word he said. I believe his classes had the highest attendance and the best percentage of grades.

Many of my classmates present were practicing lawyers, one is a high court public prosecutor, another the head honcho of a popular newspaper, two are politicians and the rest of us in different professions. He said something that each one of us could take home irrespective of our occupation.

Quote:

"I always have and do believe that what is morally wrong, can never be legally right, no matter what you do and how, where you are and when, how you conduct your affairs and those of the world around you and irrespective of how the world evolves in the future, let this be your striving and hold you in good stead. Let this be your model, may your lives be ruled by this principle and may all of you live and pass this legacy".

Unquote.

We walked out of that room, inspired and blessed...

I celebrate this day for myself too... was a teacher for five years and I found a fulfillment and peace that is hard to describe, to put it simply, I went to sleep every night with a huge sense of satisfaction, of a day filled with accomplishment and of course I was paid to talk... can you beat that!!!!

To the four teachers who inspired me, my colleagues in the profession and to all the teachers yet to be,

The noblest of all professions
you have made your calling
Your legacy lingers
long after your ashes are scattered
May the seeds you sow bear fruit and nourish
and when it's time to travel to the beyond
May you dwell in the house of the Almighty
for your race as his most Blessed and worthy angels would have been won...

Phenomenal Woman...

There's this streak of doubt that flits in and out of my mind, almost a constant. Times when I feel that I'm lesser than what I should be, more insignificant than is important, more empty than enough. Maybe it's just me, or maybe it's universal. These moments of agonising over, of self agony that seeks answers from within as well as from the external.

I don't feel alone in this, I'm connected and bound to many women, my friends, sisters... women... of all shapes, sizes, color and creed. Juggling many lives and operating in many roles.. there is a vaccuum at times, from the bustle there is a disquiet. When it reaches peak, I look for inspiration, support and strength and I do find it...

Have noticed that whenever a woman quotes from another woman's work, she's considered feminist. And feminist is a bad word! A woman who believes in and hold's her own and is vocal and demonstrative of it, is somehow thought as making an emphatic statement or as a bitter person. Through my college years and after, I'd been labelled as feminist and I was somehow proud of the word, even though it was said in terms that weren't positive.

I draw hope from one my favorite authors, Maya Angelou- the American author and poet, who I will quote many times in Garbled Thoughts.

“Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.”

The smile on my face arises from the warmth that emanates as it courses through my veins... the joy in being a woman... cranky and all...