Set yourself... free...

“I have worn my heart on my sleeve because it is too painful to carry it inside my chest.
When I carry it on my sleeve, it has the freedom to exist, to beat in rhythm with the Universe.
I feel like I'm more alive and yes, there are those who out of curiosity will say or do things that can cause its delicate existence to feel pain and sorrow.
I would rather deal with that, than to put it back in its little cage where it knows nothing else but the rhythm of my body and my Ego.
My heart was never meant to be part of my Ego.
My heart was meant to experience the Soul.” 
― C.C. Campbell, The Stolen Light of Women: A Quest for Spiritual Truth Beyond Religion

Now that is what I call freedom, when you allow yourself the luxury of being you, with all your frailties and letting the world see that and creating experiences for self without knowing how it will end,
I had an interesting experience during my travel last week and this has given me a lot of perspective. I had been to Netherlands on official work and since had done a holiday and explored Amsterdam a while ago, thought I'd visit Belgium and specifically Bruge and Gent this time around. Was looking for a place to stay in these places and wanted to try out Airbnb, the popular accomodation provider that I'd heard so much about.
I zeroed in on a place in Eeklo, a little town located between these two places I wanted to visit. I loved the pictures of the house and the description and the host's introduction seemed interesting, so off I go and book the place for a steal, the price was unbelievable.
So I rent a car and drive from Breda in Netherlands, straight to Eeklo in Belgium, whoever invented the GPS system has my undying gratitude! The navigation system takes me to a house with a broken gate in a cobblestoned pathway and I double park my car in the narrow alley and walk through the gate to the door and look for a bell, finding none I push the door and walk in to find it empty! I'm seriously worried now about my car being towed and I call out loudly for my host, an exercise in futility as I discovered.
About 15 minutes later he walks from another side of the house and says, "Oh you're here, cool, that's your room, settle yourself. I'm in the garden behind, join me when you want to" and walks away.
For a couple of minutes I coudn't comprehend what just happened, this stranger lets me into the house and disappears, really??? I run after him and say, " I need to park my car and it's been out in the street for the past twenty minutes!!!" He then shows me which turn in the road to take to enter the garden and walks off.
I bring my car to the other entrance of the property, pull out my bags, settle in my room and walk towards the path he had showed earlier. It was a beautiful peice of land which he had converted into an open picnic area with tables and chairs and a few structures for a circular bar, kitchen and had animals like sheep, hens, a pig and a goat in different pens. He also had a vegetable patch on which his mother and step mother were working together, pulling out weeds in harmony.
I make polite conversation and we all walk back into the house and my host tells me he has a meeting, he's a local politician and will be late and walks away. Which allows me to go into town for a few beers and a meal and I return to an empty house. I pull out my book and settle myself and begin reading and the heavens opened and it began to rain in torrents.
Suddenly a thought struck me, it was 10:30 pm and I was alone in a house I don't know, owned by someone I don't know, in a country I don't know, what the hell was I doing??!!?!? I'm never one to take risks, always try and follow the safe route, where had my brains gone?
Apprehension now slowly began to creep in, all my bravado slowly began to seep out, especially when I remembered that my host said that the house is Never locked, like Ever! And he doesn't have a lock either. I looked around the house and saw it strewn with ipads, records, fancy electronic gizmos, laptops and many expensive gadgets I could walk out easily with. My flights of fearful fancy came to a stand still right then.
This person left the house with everything in it, with complete faith. He didn't know me either but he didn't look like it bothered him. All he knew about me that I was an Indian living and working in the UAE and I was married and have two children. Fullstop. Yet he walked away in faith, never thinking that I would do a Bonnie and Clyde!
I had conversations with him everyday during the three days that I stayed there and his philosophy was so simple. He believed in the goodness of things, in all men and women being equals, in community service, saving the environment, being self sufficient, being free of the trappings of success as defined by society, empowering the young and mostly in giving what you had, the more you give, the more you recieve. Not being worried that your faith will be destroyed, you may have a few unfortunate experiences but that shouldn't cloud your vision.
This to me, this thinking, is freedom. Freedom from what others tell you how to think and behave, freedom to believe in goodness, freedom to allow youself peace with yourself and everyone around you. Freedom truly means one thing and one thing only, Peace.
When you are at peace, irrrespective of your surroundings, even if you lived in a cage or a wide open field, but you were at peace, then you're truly free.
Allow your mind to think positive things... freedom and peace will come uninvited and make their home with you...

Insanely... Janus...

Human nature fascinates me, my own included :P

I wonder why I say and do the things I do even when I know sometimes, for sure, deep inside of me that I'm not being true to myself (avoid the word hypocrite... as you notice!) and when it is retrospection time I want to kick myself, in the nether regions most often.

In Roman mythology, Janus is the God of beginnings and endings; birth and death. Closer to home, Hindus observe 'Sutaka' a period signifying Impurity arising (to the members of a family) through a birth in it, but understood popularly in the sense of Impurity arising through a death, similar to beginnings and endings.

So Janus, also called the two faced God since he looks to the future and to the past is rather unfortunately remembered when I digress from being honest, a state I'm struggling to minimize. This trait probably stems from my first birthday. My photograph has two of me in a single frame, albeit looking at each other!

As I do some soul searching, it's easy to see that most times fear hems me in and sometimes my ego does and other times it's a mindless habit. A very thin line this, between diplomacy and authenticity, between doing what's right and doing what's accepted, between following the herd and being yourself.

To be accepted and loved and cherished and praised is, and will be a hunger unappeased in all of us. How far would you go to ensure you had this adulation is the question. When will you decide that someone's, anyone's, everyone's opinion doesn't really matter, what you feel strongly inside of you is the real McCoy...

It's perfectly alright to have your own thoughts and act accordingly, being part of an ethinicity, religion, nationality, family even doesn't necessarily bind you to someone else's idea of the real thing, if you have one and a real strong won't-let-you-go-no-matter-what one, Go for it.

In this quest to be absolutely true to myself, above all I know I have to struggle against convention, be brave enough to accept labels and kind enough to know that people don't really mean what they say, they're afraid of losing face/ faith or petrified of a new order and this manifests in their unkindness.

And so I try zealously to undo my Janus... ness!

Preach no more...

Am part of a training on managerial skills and one session was a live simulation of coaching and delegation.

The planners were given a puzzle and they had to give instructions to the team of implementers who would solve it and I was part of the observers team.

When it was time to give feedback, I was brutally honest and unerringly blunt and to me it seemed that I was being candid and they were propitious in having a discerning observer in me.

To my supreme mortification and disgust, not only was what I said ingratiating but also offensive to a few.

For someone who continuously posts in my blog about the power of words, you would think that I'd keep them soft and tender 'cos I know well I will have to swallow 'em at some point.

Well I can't claim temporary amnesia or insanity for that matter. As I reflected on what I said and how, I hung my head in shame and wondered how I could forget what I so vehemently advocate.

As I reflect on the choice of words I used, I understand that no matter how genuine my intentions, the truth is that the message has to be worded gently.

The worry is, I know all of this... 

Yet I slip, stumble, fumble, fall and fail.

Like we exercise for our bodies to remain fit, I guess I need to practice using language that avoids confrontation, condescension and corrugation. 

And when I slip... don't get mad and walk away, Stay and tell me to buzz off!

Spectrum of perspectives...

So I'm currently reading this book by Elaine Kagan titled, 'The Girls' and though it's reviews are mediocre at best, I’m enjoying the different perspectives of different individuals.

The story revolves around six girls who were friends and grew together and are now in their fifties, living different lives in different places. They are brought together by a tragedy, one of them shot her husband and the story is narrated by all six women. And each has a story to tell! About the man who died, about their collective past and about the present and about each other.

The characters sound repetitive at times yet the way they see things is brought out quite interestingly. It’s fascinating the human mind, our interpretations and the many impressions we form. I have yet to meet two people who think exactly alike in all situations and this intrigues me to no end! I have a brother (Manny) and God knows we’re different! I have two children and the same God who made Manny and me is surely laughing, sigh! History repeats and how…

So if two people who share the same genes and DNA and parents and faith, culture, upbringing can be, think and act differently, tell me why we expect others who aren’t connected to us by any of the above social, economic, biological factors need to conform to our thinking?

The biggest common factor in failure of relationships is incompatibility or irreconcilable differences. If we love our siblings despite their incomprehensible and sometimes flaky personas, why not offer the same ingenuity as we view other people in our lives. Err… Manny, when I said ‘flaky’ I was describing yours truly :D.

You know, those great expectations that we have (not Lady Havisham variety), maybe it’s time to do a recce and audit whether they still make sense. Did you expect that your partner, friend, child or colleague would conform to a set standard of the image you had of them in your convoluted mind? Did they? God Bless you if they did.

But for those who were not blessed with this, could we look at them like we do our own siblings and say, hey we’re chalk n cheese ourselves, how do I expect you to play jam to my toast. It’s all in the perception. You have yours and I have mine and ne’er the twain shall meet and you know what, it’s just fine. It’s not supposed to.

What is, is this… the faith that each one of us is unique and its perfectly alright. We make the world beautiful, each of us, by our myriad madness…

You’d for sure be bored without mine ;) (Of course I'm vain!)

Give me a break!!!

I have said this before in a post in 2007 I guess... I don't understand the fuss behind Women's Day!

Seriously.

When I first opined this many moons ago, we weren't connected to virulent social networking sites as we are today. I have recieved countless posts, forwards, pictures on Women's Day and methinks, they either ridicule women or set standards or norms like the Biblical allusions to perfect women, Ruth, Mary, Esther and our Indian versions, Sita, Savitri, Gandhari.

C'mon! Give us a break and let us be.

I'm a woman and every day is my day. I don't stop being a woman on a single day. Except during periods.
I'm a daughter, sister, wife, mother. Every day. Hmnnn... maybe not during periods.
I'm a career woman and rush to work every single day except weekends when I'm working at home.

So yeah, what's the fuss about exactly?

Pardon me but I do not conform to anyone's idea of a Perfect Woman, but my own... warped as it may be.

I'm not in the competition to check how I compare with role models or other 'super' women, I'm perfectly flawed and fine with it.

Women... all of you, don't wait for accolades and pats on the back or medals or certificates of achievement on any day of the year. Enjoy the attention if it comes your way but don't hanker after it.

You dont need any of those. You're a WOMAN!!!

And hell yeah, that's quite ENOUGH!!!

Unplug and shrug...

Came across this post which said, Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes... including yourself.
Don't know why but there's always a sense of urgency everywhere, there's so much frenetic activity and people constantly trying to do something, accompllish another thing, complete everything... push themselves and then some.
I just tire looking at them, like what's the rush?

Ambition is great and perfection unsurpassable. To those who seek the latter, God Bless.

“If you saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if you saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down upon his shoulders - What would you tell him?"

I…don't know. What…could he do? What would you tell him?"

To shrug.” 
― Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

Unplug and shrug is the latest bug... 

Unmasked...

So I keep hearing that I am not the same person I was and have changed so much that I'm unrecognizable. Where has the old Melita gone? The 'simple', 'obedient', 'apologetic' person who was so easy and nice to be with and didn't upset the apple cart, instead was such a comfort?

Who is this new quarrelsome person who now resides in someone who looks like her but is not her. What fuels this 'arrogance' and 'pride'. Where is Melita. Who abets this ungainful ugly pursuit she has embarked on and takes her on this path of 'self destruction'.

To all of the above I have only one answer, I've stopped wearing the mask you were used to.

Watched the movie Tamasha yesterday and so loved it. What a wonderful expose' on conformity, wearing masks and the death of the soul. I sat in the theatre and let myself be completely absorbed by the depth of the plot and ofcourse the brilliant acting and the cinematography. Not a crtique of the film, pardon me.

So, back to the crux of the matter, Yes I'm selfish, if selfish means doing those little things that are fodder to the spirit. I'm self centred, if looking for happiness within myself is being self centric. I'm terribly vocal, if saying what reverberates from deep within me is so loud that I can no longer quell the din.

I love myself and refuse to suffer pangs of guilt and apologise for it.

Again, the mask is off and who you see now is the me that was once afraid. When fear walks out and love walks in, its hard to play the lute and the lyre to the rythm of the conductor. This magniloquent capella refuses to cow down. I can't fight it anymore, it's stronger than I imagined and I'm swamped in the wake of it's tide.

I sincerely apologise for all the unnecessary misunderstanding caused by my own cowardice earlier. I'm bare naked and stripped off all pretence.

Masquerade no more... it's curtain call.