Silence is Consent!

Was in a training at office, "Zero Harm" - an EHS initiative.
The presenter keeps repeating these words, 'silence is consent', sometimes very excitedly, like breaking good news. Sometimes very gravely as if announcing deatth and sometimes in a whisper, like soothing a screaming child.

Hmmmnn.. am thinking, I've always believed that in silence, lies my greatest strength. That I have let my silences tide over difficult, confrontational and volatile times, I let things pass, ease.. melt.. settle, just by being stoic and accepting. That's the way I am, it's in my basic nature to be non vocal about the things that really matter (Really?!!?) Umnn.. just lost my line of thought at that.. am thinking.. Me? and non vocal? I dont need anyone else to tell me how much I talk - jeez.. sometimes I tire my own auditory senses. :D.. Boy! I can talk and then talk some more and exhaust the listener.

What am I claiming then, when I say that I'm silent and let things go.. I am this split personality.. which of us isn't.. but I guess I have these two strong splits.. one which cant shut up and the other which shuts up at the most important times.

Silence is really assent, I do believe that.. in retrospect everything is in sharp focus and in technicolor detail isn't it..
How many times have we wondered, if I had acted on my instincts and said something, maybe at that point it would seem a red herring, but time would prove that it was the wisest move. Speculation isn't always idle, especially if it leads to strengthen resolve.

The balance should be in managing these two strong personalities that are in contrast to each other and get them to either behave in tandem, or create another me that picks the best of both and knows when to operate from in which mode.

I'm a basket case.. I think at times.. I mean, I'm astounded at the many creatures that dwell in me. Some I recognise easily, others are a revelation and I'm like.. 'where the hell did that come from?' Why can't life be more simple, less complicated, silent and calm, proper and strait laced.. why can't I be easy to handle.. even to my own self.. I'd like to wake one morning and look in the mirror and say, 'Ah, its you - boring and predictable, but definitely easy to handle'.

I'm lying!!! Liar Liar... I love these complexities and confusion and the chaos.

Silence, now that would be boring.. and yes, I guess I have reached a point in life where, my silent me will speak up when should and the other nonsensical blabber mouth will cow down before the silent one.

God Bless my family and friends.. as they tiptoe around my various personalities, trying to figure which freak is currently operational!

When will I grow up and act my age.... mature maybe?

Maturity.. what is this really? Is it when you stop behaving in an irresponsible manner and think, ponder, muster and weigh your actions.. In that case, I fail every time.. I'm far... miles away from all of the above.
If I were a catholic, my blog would be my favorite priest at the confessional...
I want to be a mature person, someone who is careful in her ways with people, situations and life and doesnt spend days agonising over the stupid things I do.
"The things you learn in maturity aren't simple things such as acquiring information and skills. You learn not to engage in self-destructive behaviour. You learn not to burn up energy in anxiety. You discover how to manage your tensions. You learn that self-pity and resentment are among the most toxic of drugs. You find that the world loves talent but rewards character. You come to understand that most people are neither for you nor against you; they are thinking about themselves. You learn that no matter how hard you try to please, some people in this world are not going to love you - a lesson that is at first troubling and then quite relaxing" - John Gardner
I'm writing this so that I can keep reading it, maybe it will be something that this thick skull will absorb. The foolishness I indulge in, have to put a lid on it. I really want to be someone I can look in the eye and not cringe, someone I'm proud of.
I have to stop feeling stupid for my actions, what best way than acting in a mature and responsible manner. I will keep reading and re reading this and will show economy in action, word and deed.
And try and never be in a position from where I look at myself in shame.

Uggy Booby Doo

I have this horrid habit.. giving indecipherable names to that which I love, human or animal.. This is Leo, our Rottweiler. He's a year and a half and is the most loved member of our family.

December 2010, after months of begging, pestering, cajoling and pleading from the children, Anil goes to the Sharjah animal market and returns with a crate marked ' From Tashkent'.

Peering from inside was this little pup with doleful eyes, a cut tail that wagged furiously, it was love at first sight, beginning with Anil and ending with me. Amanda and Alder had surrended themselves completely to this wonder.
Begins debate, what do we name him.. After much opinion - Leo was chosen, simply because that is his star sign. His birth certificate said he was born in August.
He brought into our home affection and fun.. the kids now growing dont much care for cuddling and petting but with Leo, anything goes, they kiss him, forever hug him and of all the weird things, Alder even bites him.
We vaccinate the dog against what he may contract from human bites!
In his vet's clinic, there's this poster which says that 'Until you have loved an animal, a part of your soul remains unawakened'.
The warmth and joy he greets us when we return home(even if we've been away for a mere five minutes) and the games he loves to play, from being chased around the house and garden, to diggin up the herb and flower patches (not funny!) are endearing.
At this moment, he is chewing up my hairband and peering through his doe eyes and refuses to give it up no matter how much I plead or threaten.
Gave it up... some things are just not worth losin your equilibrium over.. he teaches me this all the time.. its like the battle between the stream and and the rock..
So what is Uggy Booby Doo... that's what I call him, besides Babushka and Ugly... :D
Everyone gets mad when I say 'Ugly' and he comes running over. Alder has tried to psych him.. peers into his eyes and keeps chanting sonorously.." you are not Ugly.. you are Leo".. over and over until Alder himself looks hypnotised.
I sit and watch the drama and softly whisper.. 'Ugly...' and he comes leaping towards me. The episode always ends with Alder storming away in anger at me and my Uggy..
I will talk more about him and what he brings to each one of us with our different personalities..
For now.. Uggy Booby Doo.. well he is our baby and we couldn't be more content.

On children..

My first blog of the year 2012 and I want to write about the passing of time.. the year that just went by and of course my children, who overnight have turned into mini adults..
Jeez.. when did they grow man.. Friday afternoon at our ritual family meal, my son points to his birthmark, which is fiery red on his cheek and says, "this is a love bite.. I got this hickey from Peri Peri (my husband's dreamgirl)"
I was completely and utterly bamboozled(funny word this.. bamboo+booze+snoozled). Just a few days ago when I sported a decorated neck, he had piped up, "Mumma whats that?" And now he calmly discusses hickies..
My poor mother... just 'cos I'm a devil, I'd like to repeat this conversation to her.. She will instantly retaliate with, "how does he know? And should he?"
Read this, " A child who is protected from all controversial ideas is as vulnerable as a child who is protected from every germ. The infection, when it comes - and it will come - may overwhelm the system, be it the immune system or the belief system" - Jane Smiley
........in defence of my son and ultimately me?
I dont know... but I have believed that a child has a right to accurate information and as far as possible, we as parents should not withhold it.. I haven't yet had my 'birds and the bees' conversation with the kids yet, but have a feeling that I might be educated rather than them!
The year that will be... I'm sure will rock!

Dear Diary

Hello.

I know it's been a while since we spoke
I have been too busy, you understand, I hope
Twenty years it's been I know
Time has passed just so

Climbed on a train that took me fast
Many a times, I didn't think I would last
Through a stranger's eyes I now reflect
On good and bad times now suspect

The tracks laid on firm ground
Steadied the spiral downward bound
Intense and petty
Sailboats on a jetty

Chugged on steam, diesel and coal
You see there was no goal
Sepia tinted is my gaze
Mired, tired, hired is this haze

Thank what may be
Recieve like a baby
Bless the countless million grains
That came your way like mist with the rains

You say dont you, dont you
Stop whining and learn to mew
What ennui is this
That ignores the bliss

Of gifts recieved without a list
Can someone please give me a gist?
I suppress the despondence
With this my correspondence

Stealthy fingers move into my skull
Cold, calm, composed, they try and cull
The helplessness brought on by thinking
There is no point in mindless sinking

I will now, stop and begin the count
Get off the misery I'm trying to mount
Sinuously weave, wrap and sow
Into this feild that's life I know

Youthful dreams

When I was younger, I had this mission in life, besides marrying the man I loved, I wanted to be a Lawyer, that too.. a criminal defense lawyer for juveniles. I had these grand plans of being the saviour of the misguided youth who would be tortured by the establishment for petty misdemeanours and be condemned to a life of crime.
I wanted to be the 'champion of the oppressed' and a guiding light to show them the right path. I used to be very interested in drug addiction, its causes and its effects. Had a few friends who were addicts and I would lament about the way they would waste away. The times that they would indulge in petty crime to satisfy their addiction and the severe punishment meted to them was painful.
Anyways, the convent school that I had studied in for 14 years didn't want me at any cost to obtain my degree from its hallowed portals. They figured that 14 years of torture at my hands was too much for any mortal to bear, even to those wedded to the Lord.
Natural progression of events led me to join the LLB programme. For the first two years we crammed up all the subjects that are normally offered in a three year degree course. The third year had only law subjects, the Indian Constitution, Law of Torts, Criminal Law, Law of Contracts, The Indian Penal Code... In these years, I developed this crazy liking for John Grisham and his books. I loved them. I thought Pelican Brief was brilliant along with The Firm.
The romance with law though waned even before I completed my studies.. I guess some of it had to do with us learning 'logical fallacy' as a subject.
:) We were taught how to logically state an untruth, or rather the language employed to do so. We learned in case studies that justice hasn't much to do with anything as much as the skill of a prosecutor or defence counsel, the precedence set by similar cases and the comprehending capacities of the judge.
John Grisham's quote comes to mind:- 'When you were in law school you had some noble idea what a lawyer should be. A champion of individual rights; a defender of the constitution; a guardian of the oppressed; an advocate of your client's principles. Then after you practice for six months you realise you are nothing but hired guns. Mouthpieces for sale to the highest bidder, available to anybody, any crook, any sleazebag with enough maoney to pay your outrageous fees. Nothing shocks you. It's supposed to be an honorable profession but you'll meet so many crooked lawyers you'll want to quit and find an honest job. And yeah, you'll get cynical. And it's sad. really.'
Not that I ever got there.. from where I could use this and say, I know exactly how this feels.. but this stayed with me and whenever I think of this profession I cant help but remember this.
And I do hope that there are those who stayed the way they began, that their youthful dream did not resign itself to the commonplace.

Who am I?

It's a question that we may have asked ourselves time and again and at different phases in life and have arrived at different answers.. Who is the real me? What do I want from life? What is it that will make me happy?

I do not think it's only the young who go through this self searching. I'm on the brink of forty and can tell you that I go through this as I have done while younger, and at varied stages have had diverse thoughts, emotions and personas that I have created and mulled over.

As a young bride, when we lived in the estate.. I didn't have much to do and would read, read and then read some more. My father in law had a great collection of old Reader's Digest magazines and I believe I have read each cover to cover.

Whenever I came across interesting lines, I would write them down. Here is one, " Young people searching for their real self must learn that the real self is not something one finds as much as it is something one makes; and it is one's daily actions that shape the inner personality far more permanently than any amount of introspection or intellection" - Sydney Harris.

Have thought very deeply about this and maybe in certain ways have tried to imbibe this into my life by doing somewhat the same, which I figured would help me shape who I want to become.

It could very well be true that instead of spending hours on trying to figure out who we are, and while doing so getting depressed as the answer never comes; I know.. been there and done that, we can instead focus on the who I want to be. It can at times be a very self destructive phase especially when you dont have any answers forthcoming. Oftentimes, this introspection comes after a loss, of peace of a relationship, of self confidence.. very rarely do we pause for a while and think these thoughts while happy.

The after shocks of an unpleasant or unhappy incident is most times a reflective phase. While in this state.. if we can think that what I'm looking for isn't something I can find as much as I can create.. well.. it may have far reaching consequences.

There have been times when I have gone into the' Who am I' state and cowered in self pity and whimpered with regret.
There have been times when I have delved into my being and searched for me and have come up with, 'Hey I like you'.
There have been a gazillion times when I have sunk into this me and emerged with.. ' Some freak lives here'.

Of late though.. I like who I meet on my journey into the self. If maturity has taught me anything, it is this... I'm rarely helpless, If I really want something.. I can have it.. If I can Plan it.. I can achieve it... and I'm a pretty sorted dude (I'm more dude than babe.. or say my dude friends).. and the person I meet on my longgg solitary walks is someone I have learned to love.

And that believe me... is comforting. Self acceptance.. above all!