Between life's doings

(Not-So-)Wordless Wednesday: Women are…

2012-02-01T13:25:00.000+05:30

This video had a brilliant effect on me-goosebumbs, teary eyes etc! Its an opportunity for me to share this website too. Take a look at www.missrepresentation.org if you haven't already and join the movement!

Women are...

Here is a brilliant trailer of the movie Missrepresentation. I SO totally loved it and cannot wait to get the DVD and watch it. Who is making one for India?

Here is a link to an article on www.psychologytoday.com on 10 ways to reshape media's message about women and girls.

Casteism does not exist in today's India

2012-01-25T22:40:00.001+05:30

I thought up of several beginning sentences for this post, like, ...so says a Hindu Brahmin, upper-middle class, urban woman; or perhaps, so says a blind bat, or maybe, so says the conveniently-affluent-driving-in-her-a/c-car-with-a-devil-may-care-attitude- woman, well you get the drift. I don't actually think casteism doesn't exist in today's world.

I must however confess, there was a time in my life when I thought casteism was shelved to times before 1947, until of course I got married eight years ago to the love of my life who happens to be a non-Brahmin BC boy. While post-wedding rituals were a shock in itself, I had also become acutely aware of how different "they"-my in-law's were from "my" family-they ate tons of garlic, they were (and still are) non-vegetarians, they killed a goat for sacrifice after the wedding, they grouped (and still do) into women folk and men folk at all gatherings- the list goes on, and it didn't help that my family accentuated this difference by constantly talking about it "oh my God, its impossible to step in to their house, it STINKS of garlic!",etc. With that, I was introduced to how much of a Brahmin I really was -"you got married to a sudra payyan (boy, in tamil) Aarathi!" I would hear myself exclaim. Hence, like an onion (which Brahmins shouldn't eat mind you) peeled the notion of "everyone is equal", and I became very aware of the presence of casteism, and class-ism so much so that I did not want to be a Brahmin anymore. Hindu? what Hindu? I am spiritual. Not religious I would say.

And what's more, the Hindutva waves that often flood Indian politics made me uncomfortable confessing I was born Brahmin. I would completely resist any attempts made by my mum to get me to pray, or participate in rituals or functions. In fact, I was such a frowny b*#ch (i'll bet, that's what my mom was thinking) when our sects' "Pope" equivalent graced my grandma's home. I would not stand beside him to take a picture and I prostrated at his feet like it was a punishment! ah! the good old times. So again, my reasoning was, I am spiritual and not religious, so leave me alone.

And then it all started to fall into place- my understanding of my privilege and my disadvantage. It happened in a class I was taking called Race Lab, as a part of my counselor training in the US. In this class, we began to explore each of our various identities. I learnt that my identity can be grouped into-gender, class, race, caste, sexual orientation, religious/spiritual orientation and more. As I began to explore each of these identities I began to see how much of a feminist I was. I also began to realize that as a upper-middle class brahmin woman I had a lot of privileges in this society-privilege of education, opportunity, etc. and at the same time I am discriminated against for being a woman- the clothes I wear, the behavior I display, etc. But what I also realized was how I was running away from embracing my spirituality/religion because of what it meant to be a Hindu brahmin in the society. Thanks to Race Lab, I slowly began to thaw at it to find my divinity within the same oppressive religion Hinduism can be.

I write about it all now because of this wonderful book I just read, called "A Gardener in the Wasteland: Jotiba Phule's Fight for Liberty" by Srividya Natarajan and Aparajita Ninan. It is a graphic novel that I totally wanted to get my hands on when I read about it in The Hindu. Though I found the book four years after I began my quest to find likeminded books and work in the area of casteism, I found it to be brilliant, thought provoking and eye-opening at many levels.

First of all its a graphic book that beautifully outlines a historical work, that itself gives it all the brownie points. But the best part of the book is that it gives you an interesting perspective on Hinduism, the Brahminical scriptures and religious texts. It does so with a dialogue between the two writers of the book and it also does it through the voice of Savitri Phule, the child bride of Jotirao Govindrao Phule. The book essentially outlines the work of the latter in "abolishing slavery of India's 'lower' castes" and pulls details from his book Gulamgiri (Slavery) written in 1873.

What can I say, I loved every bit of this book. Natarajan divides the book into chapters called: The Wasteland of Caste, the Weed-Bed of Myth, the Roots of Tyranny and the Seeds of Education. Both Natarajan and Ninan then go on the break Hindu Myths and the role of Brahmin's during the British rule to continue the suppression of lower castes and women-all this borrowed from Phule's work and narrated through the voice of Savitri Phule, who played a major role in educating both boys and girls of sudra's and atisudra's in the 1800's. The book is very relevant in today's society and the authors go on to glisten that fact. They talk about the Babri Masjid, Gujarat Riots and the Quota politics to show how caste system and oppression from it exists even today.

Excerpts from the Novel

You cannot just read a bit and close the book and run off and do errands, well what I mean is that, its a gripping read and you will want to read it again once you are done. Some parts are shocking and hilarious too. Like the one about Brahma menstruating from several orifices given the four castes were born out of four different parts of his body.

It reminded me how after reading about the caste system in my history class when I was in 6th grade, we asked everyone what each of their caste was, I dont think anyone admitted to being lower than a Kshatrya then.

Phule wondering about Brahma's four days a month issue.

While I do consider myself open to new perspectives, some parts of the book really did take me by surprise. Like the Hindu mythology of Dusavatara, desconstructed by Phule gives you his perspective of how Aryans under the guise of Dusavatara essentially invaded India and destroyed indigenous rulers and kingdoms like that of Mahabali or how what happened in Narendra Modi's Gujrat was essentially "Parashuram, updated for the 21st century, Hinduta-style". The authors also go on to point of what I took for granted so many years. Take for instance what Natrajan says about our good old Amarchitra Katha series, ' remember how the women were always impossibly curvy?' and "the good guys were always fair and the baddies, the rakshasas were always dung-green?"Ninan wonders.

The book is a lesson in staying open to a variety of perspectives-even to something one group considers sacred, like scriptures, that "myths are interpreted differently in different communities" and that "history, like myth, changes depending on who writes it and who reads it". Most of all however, it has made me aware of how important it is to gather these perspectives and educate ourselves and our children in staying open, and being aware of our identities and how it came to be. It is also a wonderful lesson in not setting rigid boundaries to our identities and what defines us. If you haven't already read the book, go get it. It's available on flipkart.com at just Rs.200! And when you are done, let me know what you think.

Book Review: 100 Promises to my baby

2012-01-19T17:06:00.000+05:30

My good friend over at Towards Harmony writes some excellent book reviews, like this one about the comic strips she read in 2011. Usually, because we have different reading interests I think I should go on over to her side of life, buy the book she reviewed and read them, but I don't (set in my ways, you can say). This time though, I bought a book from off her reviews called Sita's Ramayana, and what do you know! I LOVED it. So I decided, hey! I should write reviews of books I love too. That way, maybe at least one person will go get the book I love and share the joy of reading it (thanks for the inspiration, P).

Get it at Flipkart

So given that everything of late is about my early steps into motherhood, I wanted to write reviews of books that helped me stay positive while I was pregnant and after (for starters at least). 100 Promises to my baby is one of them. This is a lovely little book by Mallika Chopra. In this book Chopra weaves in stories, poems, reflections, and essays as a way to remind herself and others of the beauty, responsibility and mindfulness needed to be a parent. My sense was that she was also able to clarify her values, and her beliefs and stay connected to her baby through this book. That's what it did for me at least.

A poem Chopra includes in her book

She categories her book into different sections-connections, hopes, traditions, choices and so forth. And narrates several anecdotes, poems, stories from her childhood that will help invoke promises for her baby. Take for instance this section on Hopes, she gives you Khalil Gibran's poem On Children with a promise to "...hold you but never hold on to you", some of her other promises that I love include "I promise to give you the confidence to create new ways of doing old things", "I promise to try to teach you through example, not just words", "I promise to teach to how to create your own reality", "I promise to teach you that human dignity is a fundamental right".

This book is definitely not meant for a one time/one-sitting read. It allows for deep reflection into who you are and who you would want to be as a parent. Its hard to connect to a steadily growing belly when you are pregnant and Chopra gives you a way to do it. She writes little exercises at the end of every piece, coaxing you to think about, reflect upon your hopes, wishes and dreams for your child. In fact she encourages you to look at your own childhood, the traditions you grew up with and the rituals you embraced, and allows you space to ponder upon what you have taken from it all so far.

Examples of her reflections include:
Make a commitment to share stories, poems, and insights with your child about how he or she is connected to other people, the earth, the universe, and a greater spirit.

She also asks you
What do you want to teach your child about other cultures, religions, and ways of thinking? what type of world do you want to show him or her?

With 100 promises there are 100 and more ways to reflect upon and wonder about what is to be. If you read my previous blog on some of my experiences of being pregnant, you will know that it was not all hunky dory, which is why I craved for some positiveness, and that is what this book gave me. It gave me an opportunity to look at my pregnancy and motherhood with mindfulness, composure and contemplation. It also inspired me to write to my baby, and connect with my belly, so to speak.

During my emotional slumps I would feel very blue reading this book, I learnt not to touch it then. However, at other slump times I really needed it to instill hope, love and joy. So regardless of how you feel, its a good book to have to learn to connect with yourself. Also the book is a wonderful treasure for parents with children of all ages. If you do get the book or already have it, let me know what you think.

Wordless Wednesday # 2

2012-01-18T14:58:00.002+05:30

Courtesy: www.elephantjournal.com

How to get beautiful Skin: A MUST watch video!

2012-01-14T11:25:00.001+05:30

As usual, I was roaming around the internet and read my favorite magazine: Elephant journal. There, I chanced upon this amazing article by a Yogi on media and how they portray women in yoga, and yoga in general too.
I hope you will read it, but if you dont, take a look at this video that I sourced from that article. Its amazing, and will crack you up :-) Here's how to get beautiful skin:

Cheers!

Wordless Wednesday # 1

2012-01-11T16:34:00.000+05:30

Hand me that bottle!

See the WW hop for more!

Diaries from When I was Pregnant-1

2012-01-07T16:22:00.003+05:30

While I was pregnant, I maintained a journal where I would write about my hopes, wishes, experiences. I wanted to put them up on the blog then but I was nervous about doing it, I felt like I was thinking and saying things I shouldnt. Today, I went down that lane and read my writings, I decided to put them up and share them in this space I have come to love. This was as I moved into my second trimester. I share it in hopes that my readers (especially those who are pregnant now)know its ok to feel anything and everything!

Pregnancy: Movement from calm to freak out to calm

I am pregnant. As I write today I am in my 20^thweek of pregnancy according to the LMP (Last Menstrual Period) or 19^thweek according to the fetal scan. My midwife measured my gradually growingbelly and told me I was 20^th week into the baby experience. How do Ifeel? Sometimes I don’t remember I ampregnant. I am my usual self-absorbed self, going about my routine with muchthe same enthusiasm as any other day. Iread stuff that needs getting read, I listen to clients who need to be heard, Iam pissed with the same people that I usually am pissed with and I sail throughthe traffic on the road with the same distaste as I used to before. (Of coursenow, besides other things that I will soon mention, I am very brazen and openabout how I feel , much to the dissatisfaction of others). Also, since I hang out with newly married orsingle girlfriends at my work place, it’s easy for me to forget that I ampregnant. Of course, there is eating like an elephant, not working out like Iused to, but when is being a sloth a new thing for mankind (not for me at least). So, even though I don’t drink tea or coffee everyday anymore and eat a biteevery hour or so, and pee a jar every half hour I still go about everyday as ifI were not pregnant. Don’t get me wrong.I am delighted that I am pregnant. Always ecstatic when I see my baby throughthe ultrasound, in fact all the changes (few albeit) that I have mentionedreally makes me very aware that I am pregnant. That a baby is due be born afterroughly four more months.

But what I have really been feeling besides happiness is amajor hormonal uprising that keeps me feeling blah. I have been pissed witheveryone and everybody who don’t payattention to me. Who don’t give me what I want and who don’t take good care ofme. I found myself crying at a drop of a hat and feeling miserable about beingat work, being in the traffic, being at home, everything. Actually, I was ok with feeling low. I feltlike “feeling it” will allow me to pass through it. Overall I have been quite amess. A happy but a very very hormonal sad mess. But besides the hormonalupsurge, something else was going on that I wasn’t really ready to acknowledge.What was going on within me?

The revelation happened with a bang. One night when I wassleeping I touched my stomach and freaked! It finally dawned on me that everything waschanging! My stomach was growing, I was pregnant, carrying a new life in methat would be a whole new person by himself. Every bit of me, my body, my life,my outlook on things- MY LIFE was on the brink of change! It also struck me theamount of responsibility I will be taking up. I wasn’t sure I was ready for somuch. Just realizing this kept me up all night long. I brooded about this allof the next day as well. What does having a new comer into my life mean? I letmy thoughts run wild. In essence it meant I was no longer going to be the focusof my life. That there was going to be a whole new individual that was going totake the center stage and go on to become a completely separate individual. Ibegan to ask, what’s in it for me? And why did I ask such a question? Because,for as long as I have known, I have been very fierce about my individuality. Itwas always about how I could do better, how I could be better, how I could livebetter and how I could be happier. Likemy husband would put it “it’s always about “me, me, me” “. What can I say, it’strue, I have rebelled and wanted to discover life and the world on my own termsand now I feel, coming upon me a future where I will tend to and nurtureanother individual other than myself! That certainly requires a whole newmeasure of selflessness that I wasn’t sure I possessed. I shuddered at thethought. I tried to remember all mygestures in selflessness. Even my practice as a therapist is a timed act ofselflessness where I devote all of myself to hear this individual and be therefor him/her. If the clock ticks beyond an hour my therapist hat starts to slip.So what now?

The beauty of the universe is such; I have learnt this timeand again: Help is at hand when you truly begin to confront your fears. I beganto turn inward. I realized I was projecting this need to be taken care of on myfamily and friends and not really doing that for myself. Also when I truly letmy fears about being a parent uncover I could finally deal with it. Gradually,help began to flow: Through a book I was reading I was reminded that we arenever given a task that we cannot handle. My father reminded me of the many grounding techniques that I oftenforget about such as Reiki, Meditation, and mindfulness. And gradually my panic seemed to simmer down.I was able to center myself enough to really think and feel these questionsthrough.

Twenty weeks and now, twenty first week while I continuewriting, I can actually feel the flutter of my baby as she/he kicks and wobblesand swims around inside of me. I cannot help but tear. I cannot help but smileand take notice every time this happens. While I am still scared about how it will all turn out in the end andwhile I want to do everything right I remember that I have been given thismoment and this gift to learn the very lessons I have wanted to learnforever. What lessons? Two of my mostimportant ones:

1. To slow down: Myconversations with friends and family, my blogs and my introspections will allreveal that throughout my life I have always wanted to balance it all, I havewanted to slow down and breathe, be mindful and centered. I have struggled withthis now and then, and right now this moment presents itself exactly for this reason.My life asks me of this, I ask myself this. To slow down to experience thewhole of me; to experience the beauty and strength of my body, my mind and myspirit. I find myself already doing this in areas of my life I have never beenable to. With a new life growing I insideof me, I want to eat right, I want to think right, I want to feel right, I wantto stay balanced, I want to be the stable bow that will allow the little babyarrow to take a liner path towards her self-actualization. I never asked myselfof this in such discipline as I do no. So what’s in it for me? All of theabove!

2. To move closer to my divinity, my God: I have a deepfaith in my higher power, my creator. I assume her presence with me everyday. However, the other day when I wasreading Deepak Chopra’s book on “Magical Beginnings, Enchanted Lives” I wasstruck by how my experience of divinity moves further with my baby. Says he,“The perennial wisdom traditions tell us that archetypal gods and goddessesbrought us forth in their image so that we could re-create and honor them inour image.” With this I have begun tomake a deeper connection with my baby, my divinity, by playing the music thattouches me, by being more mindful about my state of being, by talking toher/him every day and by singing to her every day.

Of course I am going to change and of course everythingabout me is going to be well shaken and reconstructed! Moving beyond focusing on someone else but meis clearly an exercise in not taking myself so seriously. What’s life if it’s notan opportunity to learn to stay open and grateful to the changes that are atonce scary and exciting, eh? Also, while change is occurring in leaps andbounds I cannot but fail to acknowledge that its feels like I am opening myselfto my greater potential.

My Bucketlist

2012-01-04T01:34:00.003+05:30

This is one of the hardest things for me to think about. Things to do before I kick the bucket? I am not sure if its because my life is currently filled with so many "right now" moments that I cant seem to think of anything or if it is that I am not ambitious enough but thinking about my bucket list made me want to bolt the other direction, initially at least.

However, when I sat to meditate, my mind opened up to a list of things I would love to do before I kick the bucket, so here it goes!

1. Get my PhD in Psychology
2. Go backpacking across Europe with my sister

3. Go on treks and nature outings with my little one as she grows
4. Own my own office space
5. Write a book
6. Go on a silent retreat
7. Go on a yoga retreat to an exotic place like Bali
8. Cook exotic food and perfect South Indian cooking
9. Built a scrapbook of memories for my little one
10. Go on a painting/writing retreat to Rome, maybe
11. Perfect my swimming skills
12. Go Scuba diving
13. Go on a girlie holiday
14. Learn to dance
15. Give up anger
16. Travel far and wide!

While I was pondering and breaking my head on what my bucket list ought to be I chanced upon www.bucketlist.org a fun website to look at what others are dreaming about and hoping to achieve.

Finally, while some of these items are something I would love to do/be, none of them "have" to be done of course. My takeaway from this exercise has been to take a step back from my usual grind and dream :-) what are your dreams for tomorrow?

A look back at 2011

2012-01-02T11:07:00.002+05:30

Last year was special for me. While the year started out stressful, it rolled along and became one of my most defining years. It was a highly emotional year in terms of experiencing intense misery and intense delight. The various life roles I play give me utmost delight and satisfaction, here is a look at 2011 as:

A mother: I became a mother! This was definitely the most defining moments for me in 2011. Mid year, I became a mommy. I learnt quickly that motherhood was deeply connected with spirituality for me. I continue to experience immense love, gratitude, appreciation and peace with my little one. Lesson learnt: You need to stay mentally healthy, mindful and calm so that your little one can grown uninhibitedly and with joy.

A spouse: My love, gratitude and appreciation for my husband grows every day. 2011 was again a special time for us. I saw and experienced a caring, kind and wonderful husband and father-to-be. I also had to make some shifts in perspective when it came to understanding how my husband expressed love. Lesson Learnt: Just because your husband doesn't show you affection, love and gratitude in the way you want him to, it does not mean he doesn't show you any at all.

A career woman: As I started out this year, I was a psychological counselor who was pursuing MPhil in Clinical Psychology in India to get licensed to practice. My career has given me utmost satisfaction personally but I've had to struggle to get recognized ever since I came to India three years so. As the year rolled by I had to make some difficult decisions. I took a year long break from it after the birth of my little one. While the decision came with a lot of tug and pull I was so immensely happy after I made it! And what do you know, I began to tap into some of my other strengths. I began to write more and I landed a writing job which I love to do while I stay home taking care of my little one.I also discovered peace.love.swap - a great initiative to stay green and mindful along the way. Lesson learnt: Don't hold on to your vision on who you are NOW so tightly, there is so much you can be once you let go and learn to live in the right now.

A daughter: I got to spend some amazing months with my folks after my little one was born. Their love for my little one and their love for me has given me the insight to love and grow mindfully. I still continue to be surly with them, loving as well and parenthood has definitely given me the lens to look at them with more compassion, gratitude and love.

A sister: In 2011 I got to spend some precious moments with my little sister. She stayed with me for a couple of months while i was pregnant, she attended lamaze classes with me, she witnessed my birth and she stayed back to take care of her niece. Our love for each other grew with the birthing of my little one. I cannot imagine life without her and I am eternally grateful for her presence in my life. Thank God for her. Lesson learnt: You never know how deeply you are interwined with some precious few until you are thrown at sea trying to battle a storm.

A friend: I wasn't much of a friend to anybody this 2011 but I had the grace and love of a friend I call my own this last year. My friend Prathama spend some precious time with me and little Anika over the several months. I was so delighted when she came back to India and I continue to check in with her in times of need. Lesson learnt: There are some few who will stand by you and through some testing time. Stay in touch with them and let them know you love'em.

Overall 2011, you've taught me the need to be more balanced, mindful, and open to life whatever comes. Thank you, thank you.

This blog is part of

Bringing out the summer in you this 2012

2011-12-30T18:15:00.001+05:30

Many (many) summers ago, when I was still a teenager, and had only myself, my anger, my passion and self loathing to take care of, I painted. My sister and I were a tight pair then (as we still are) and we brought our paint brushes, our creativity and imaginations out on those long summer afternoons as we sat and pondered and painted. It was a beautiful summer. We were staying with my gramma then and we painted our room walls with our favorite anime (only after the summer did we realize that gramma was getting her house white-washed and re-painted after we left, makes sense why she let us paint on her walls). That summer we had also become obsessed with making jewellery. We had scouted local stores for beads and nylon threads and strung them in anklets and bracelets that we never wore, and when we were tired of our jewellery making and painting we would go to the backyard where the great big mango tree was, we'd climb high up and plucked each one of them, eager to nibble on them or just wait for my gramma to pickle them.

A summer jumping on trampolines

I did not color, paint and use my oil pastels after that. I love to buy jewellery even now but I stopped trying to make them any more. If its summer and my gramma is at home, we continue to spend some timeless afternoons in the backyard spotting mangoes and climbing up the tree to get them. There is something about that summer, I continue to remember it very fondly. Painting and jewellery making were only some tools we chose to make that summer so treasured. What really worked however was the camaraderie between my sis and I, the acceptance my gramma provided us, the stress free, directionless direction we provided ourselves with and the calmness of summer. Every time I think of play I think back on that summer. With the dawn of a new year I hope to bring that summer back into my life everyday. I hope to:

live everyday with calmness and mindfulness
play with my daughter and create new tools to bring out the summer within us
create directionless direction, which essentially means I hope to give direction to my life but also hope to be ready and open to whatever comes
reach out and make friends, this is a tough one for me, but as a new mommy this is something I am yearning for
continue to spend time with those I love
read
take care of myself, my passion, anger and self loathing

Do you have a summer you treasure and love? Can you bring out that summer once again all year this new year?

Starting Solids

2011-12-24T14:41:00.000+05:30

My munchkin loves her first food!

I had knots in my stomach. Should we really start solids today? I wondered. There was some sort of fear creeping up within me and I wasn't sure why. My dad said I should be happy we were starting solids for Anika as she grows now and my mum wondered why I was so frightened. I am not sure why either. After all she was ready, she was six months, she was rearing to eat, she watched us eat all the time and tried to grab food any chance she got, she was sitting up and everything!

And yet, I felt a little "somewhat" at the thought of my little one starting solids today. Its funny, but really I think its the feeling of realizing this is more real than ever. My litttle one is growing, life keeps moving on and the next thing you know she will be crawling around the house, then running and more!

As we fed pureed apples today she wanted more! She loved it even before we started. She grabbed her tiny little applesauce bowl and wanted to eat it all by herself. My fear transformed into such pleasure. I was so pleased and surprised at how amazingly well she ate her first solid food, and she knew when to stop, oh my baby! Why was I even worried, I wondered.

It takes me back to how my parents were with me. I would always see a little bit of hesitation, a bit of eagerness and a tad bit of nervousness in their eyes as I started something new, and then they would completely embrace the new as a part of who I am . There is always a slight tug in that heart of yours before you let go, isn't there? Ah! the joys of motherhood, you learn to embrace and let go at the same time.

Embracing Womanhood

2011-12-18T18:13:00.000+05:30

Its 4:30 in the afternoon now and I have some quiet time inthe house, after my morning rituals of cooking, cleaning, yoga and playing withmy baby. I sit with myself and this word doc to breathe and smile. This morning I had woken up to the nippy cool thatHyderabad winters offer. I started the coffee maker after placing this morning’smilk on the double broiler, I then took my cup of hot water, and like I do onmost mornings, I sat on my cane swing watching the Hussain Sagar from afar.It’s was beautiful morning and my little one was asleep, as was her father. Mymoments of silence are truly as pleasurable as my moments of doing.

While being a wife, a mother and a working-woman are allroles I play with relative ease today, it has come after some stretching andtugging at my identity. Now, as I sit, playing with my wet hair and drinkingyet another cup of green tea, I smile at the comfort I feel in being athome-literally and figuratively. I am awife, a mother, and a working-woman in this place I call home. Actually, I amwhat they call, a ‘house wife’, a ‘full time mother’ and a ‘working woman’. AsI embrace all the stereotypes and identities, I move into another place withinmyself. I am not sure how to describe it yet, but it feels like immensecomfort, like chocolate syrup on warm brownie.

I am surprised atthis comfort I feel within my skin. Until five months ago, I was tied in knotsabout what would happen to my identity, this sense of self that I hold so dear.Five months back, I was not yet a mother. I worried about losing my “work self”I worried about what would become of that person within me that I knew for somany years. What would happen if I stopped working, if I stop moving forward inmy career, if I did not get another job where I could shine? What would happenif I just stop studying, working and living as if I just had myself to takecare of? What then? I was met with a blaring silence then and it is thisblaring silence that I have now embraced.

The silence within reflects in this mindfulness about myday, in not having to rush to work, or to have everything be perfect. Thesilence around comes from accepting myself and all the roles I play, it comesfrom accepting my body for its stretch marks, the nourishment it provides formy baby, and for the indications in aches and pains it gives me when forgetabout myself. The calmness comes in accepting the limitations and strength ofothers and it comes from asking for help and support. The calmness comes in notwanted to be someone so badly.

I still don’t know how my tomorrow is going to be. I still don’tknow what happens to that career woman inside of me, I don’t know how life willunfold, but for now I love sitting at my dining table with my laptop on as Iwrite this. I love getting paid assignments for my writing, I love running tocheck on my little one in the cradle, I love watching her smile, play and growand I love dusting the house, thanking my maid and staying home for now. A few years back, I was afraid of taking abreak even though I wanted one. I was afraid I would perish if I took a breakto pursue love, mindfulness and comfort. Today, I am afraid no more, because onething is for sure, life will give you what you want from it, one-step at a timeand all you need to do is, settle in to enjoy the right now.

Emotional Eating-To indulge or not to indulge?

2011-12-01T20:06:00.001+05:30

While writing this article, I just went through the lastpiece of Haldiram’s Soan Papdi at 2:00pm this afternoon, delaying my physicalhunger and deeply satisfying my emotional hunger, the childhood memory ofwatching the Soan Papdi cart passing by on lazy Sunday mornings. Back then,Soan Papdi’s used to be sold on carts lugged by vendors. The sweet used to behoused in this huge transparent glass globe. And the sweet itself was differentlooking than today’s Haldiram Soan Papdi, but what can one do, we just have tomake do with satisfying a childhood memory in today’s modern day packaging.

Food serves many purposes. A bag of potato chips is an idealpartner while you watch re-runs of CSI. Chocolate chips cookies and milk are a great combination while you sitcramming for exams. Nothing€ can separate you from Ben & Jerry’s while yousit, mending a broken heart. Toffees forgood behavior, and chocolates bars for better behavior. We live in a societythat rewards us with food for a job well done, or to lift our wallowing spirits.So here we are, feeding two kinds of hunger-physical and emotional.

When do you choose ice-cream?

Even the fittest of fitness freaks and the healthiest ofhealthy cannot get away from satisfying a craving once in a while. And whynot? Our society sanctions it andresearch clarifies it (when our body needs certain chemicals we will be drawnto that kind of food). Also, the wrath of a pregnant woman is not pretty, ifyou don’t let her indulge in some comfort food every now and then.

So are all kinds of emotional eating ok? Of course not! Here are some things to consider before you& I take on the next Soan Papdi, or that bag of potato chips.

A lot of studies and a lot of psychological articles onlineand off encourage you to ask yourself the following questions:

· Are you hungry for a particular food?
· Did your hunger come on suddenly?
· Have you been eating larger portions than usual?
· Do you eat at unusual times?
· Are you stressed at work, with a relationship orin any other part of your life?
· Have you had to deal with a life changing eventlately?
· Have you gained a lot of weight in a little time(or gained too much weight that is unusual to you) because of eating?

If you answered ‘yes’ to these questions then you are emotionallyeating. If you are physically hungry you don’t particularly crave for a certainkind of food, if it is physical hunger it comes on slowly so that when you arejust lightly hungry you can sense it, if you are eating to satiate physicalhunger then you will know when to stop and physical hunger has a cycle to it.Most studies suggest that if you ate around 200-500 calories you shouldn’t behungry in the next two or three hours.

Comfort food is called precisely that because it bringscomfort. Comfort from some pain, stress, sadness, boredom, and worse still fromdepression, poor self-esteem, loneliness, etc. It is also comfort/ reward for ajob well done, for satisfying unmet needs and more.

If you find yourself answering ‘yes’ to the above questions,more often than not, and if you are also stressed about how much you eat andhow difficult it is to control it then something is up and you need to takeaction before it becomes a binge eating disorder or other eating problems. Hereare something’s you can do to stay healthy while eating.

Go on, Eat: Ifyou are indulging in food one too many times for reasons beyond physical hungerthen take a few moments and consider why that is so. Are you choosing food tosubstitute for an emotion that is unbearable? Is it a boss, a parent, yourhusband or a whole lot of events that have come together to overwhelm you? If that is so, just make a note of it.Sometimes, nothing can be done about our stressful events, at least that’s howit feels, so when you do feel that way, just note your stress, and if you areeating, continue eating, but mindfully. Savor every piece and morsel of whatyou are eating; enjoy the sight, smell and flavor of your food. Enjoy how yourbody responds to your food. And once you are done, move along. Try and enjoysome healthy comfort food do. I often substitute oranges (one of my favoritefruits) with a savory snack. While binging on anything is not the greatest, atleast binging on something healthy helps a little.

Indulge in healthy self-care: a variety of aspects in our lives can triggeremotional eating. While recognizing your trigger is the first step, you willalso need to establish self-care routines that become a part of your everydaylife. It could be running on the treadmill or a walk in the park for 30minutesevery day. Investing in 20 minutes every day to eat without any distractionscan go a long way in appreciating food, your body and your life in general.Think about a healthy/ positive option that can help you relax every day andmake it a part of your life. Studies state that eating relaxes your system byactivating the parasympathetic nervous system that is why we indulge inemotional eating, however unhealthy in the long run. Break this cycle by partaking in healthy selfcare that will in itself activate the parasympathetic nervous system.

Emotions are okay:Emotions can be overwhelming, especially when we have learnt that emotions arenot okay to express. Checking in with yourself is a great start toacknowledging that you do feel something regardless of what emotion it is.Emotions are a natural part of our lives, like breathing or thinking. Take afew minutes to just invite your overwhelming emotions to sit with you. If emotionaleating has already lead to increasing ill health, poor stamina, poor self-esteem and worse still a bingeeating condition, you will need to get in touch with a counselor and anutritionist to help you work on your emotions and food.

So go on and indulge, but be mindful about what you are eating,enjoy it while staying aware of your emotions as you eat.

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PS: Nithya thanks for the topic! I love to write about mental health and wellbeing, if there is something you want me to write about, ask away!

Long Distance Relationships Work!

2011-11-23T10:00:00.000+05:30

A friend of mine who moved to an adjacent town to be with his lady love endearingly called his relationship a short distance relationship. Long or short, a relationship that endures time and space can be good and bad depending on the way you treat it.

I've known so many couples that put themselves through a long distance relationship, I've been one of them too. My husband and I endured a three year long long-distance so that I can go finish graduate school. Before that, while we were still dating we were on a year long long-distance so he could go finish school.

Many people will have you believe that long distance relationships don't work. Well, if you go with that attitude it definitely wont. Agreed it's hard. There used to be times when, my gloom about being away from my husband would entirely engulf me for days. We've fought tooth and nail, we've not spoken for days, there was anything but love on some days, and we've hung up the phone over and over again (me, more than him) but we have come back together at the end of it all. So what makes a long distance relationship tick?

Here's what I've known from seeing others do it and from living it:

Stay Commited

1.Being a 100% committed to the relationship: if you are starting a long distance relationship with a "lets see how it goes" attitude you are not really invested in making it work. You will need to agree on what will work for the both of you. While my husband was on a year long long-distance to go study, it was way back when I was broke, didn't have enough money to make phone calls, and he was just a student scraping by as well. So we stuck to emails and chat. We would email each other every day! Well, it was early in my relationship and I was smitten, what do you expect? You don't have to write emails everyday or even chat. I know of a friend who speaks to her long distance fiance only on weekends, that works brilliantly for them. So make a commitment about how you stay committed to making your long distance work. What works for the both of you is what counts.

2. Introduce your partner to people around you: For weeks no one at my work place knew that I was married, this was when I was away. It didnt strike me that I should tell. What would I say " I just finished the project you asked me to do, and by the way I am married"? In a conversation with my boss about husbands I mentioned to her that "my husband does that too!" and oh what a surprise! We sat around talking about how she had no clue that I was married. Well, yes I didn't wear a ring (that was not part of my tradition) but I didn't wear my tamilian "Taali" either so how was she supposed to know. When you think it appropriate go ahead and let everyone know that you have a partner, albeit ocean's apart. It helps when people see you as engaged/in a relationship. For one, you will know how to keep off possible attractions and another important thing, you get to talk about it, how difficult it is, how wonderful it is and how happy your partner makes you! I eventually got a ring that lasted for my stay in the States. Now I am ring-less and chain-less but I bet you know I am married.

3. Fights are not final words on ANY thing:There were several fights in our relationship in the three years that we were apart. But there are several fights even now. Fights only mean that you are trying to make your ego more permeable, that is you are letting your partner in, even though its difficult. If both of you know that fights are only temporary and any problem can be solvable you are good to go!

That right! Go on a vacation with your partner

4. Take breaks together: If you can take breaks from work and go meet your beau for a while and if your partner can do the same, great! Its a great way to figure out who does the laundry and who does the cooking. If you both can take breaks and go on a trip together, even better! My husband and I used to see each other every once in three months. Was great for us. You will need to find what works for you.

5. To befriend or not to befriend the opposite or same sex (depending on your orientation): For some reason, it gave me great comfort that my husband hated other women. Well, I don't think he hated other women, he would just tell me anecdotes of how a "stupid lady at the gym..." did a certain thing or a "silly woman on the road" frustrated him. Maybe it was his way of reassuring me that we were in a committed relationship, it worked for me. Both of us just kept off opposite sex friends, (I've had the ability to make great girl friends and stick with them so that helps). It happened naturally for us. You will need to find your midpoint. Eye candies are everywhere, there is no denying it, you will just need to be aware of it and know how truly blessed you are about being in a relationship with your partner. If it helps, like my husband, you can tell anecdotes of what pisses you off about the opposite sex, don't go overboard though, then its obvious that something is up!

6. Don't be a martyr: The martyr act pisses everyone. You need to realize that if you are going long-distance on a relationship then it is YOUR choice. Your partner cannot force you in on this one. So don't become a nag and tell your partner that it has to stop before the stipulated time. Long distance is already difficult, you don't want to cause terrible heartaches by being a martyr too.

7. Know when it ends: There has to be a "happily ever after" (until you actually start living it, that is) but jokes apart. It helps when both of you know when the long distance will cease and when you can move in, and "start" a life together.

8. No children commitment: See, I just think it is the hardest thing to do EVER, to have a baby and be on long distance. You need to know that as adults you have chosen to be apart, but your baby did not choose this. So while you are apart, stay committed to sustaining and enjoying your work and each other.

Ok, I'll stop at this nice even number and let you munch over the information. If you have been in a relationship that was long distance come talk about it! Did it work? What helped? A great many people wonder about the stability of long term relationships. I did too. Its a scary proposition and it can be heart wrenching but you've got to do what you got (read want)to do, so embrace it proactively and continue to be in love!

Guest Blog: The “Watchout!” State of Mind

2011-11-18T17:54:00.001+05:30

For those of you who don't know, my father is my spiritual guide, nudging, encouraging and coaxing me to be more mindful, ever since I was little. He sent this piece to my sister, mum and I way back in 2010. Reading it now, while on my spiritual diet, makes me smile in true understanding. Without further ado, here is the piece. Thank you dad for letting me put this up :-)

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Its 7am thismorning and I’m blissfully asleep when the jarring doorbell rudely wakes me up.It’s this guy Ravi from Mayurvihar whom I met just once before when he camehome two weeks ago with family to meet Balupita who was our guest. He came topick up something which they forgot behind last time. He dint call and informbefore appearing at my door! I sent him off in just two minutes afterdelivering his bag and offering him a glass of water. Due to this, I missed myroutine early Morning Prayer meditation which takes between half to one hour.

Since I amall alone at home, I go through the morning routines of lighting the lamp,brewing coffee, making bed, washing clothes, reading news, etc. The News paperguy dint deliver today since our house was locked for the past ten days, so Iswitch on the computer to check the news. Suddenly I realize that it’s already 9am andhave to start cooking breakfast, lunch, have bath and get ready to go tooffice. I realize that pranayama has to be abandoned today!

I shouldhave gone back to bed after sending off Ravi early in the morning and completedmy half an hour of meditation before starting with the routine morning chores.This was my thought as I started analyzing my state of mind while cookingsambar and rice. It was then that the term “watchout state of mind” came tomind.

Usually whenI go on a long tour and come back home it’s just chill out time or a time to“Let go”. This is what I did yesterday after reaching home at 2.30pm anddeciding not to go to office. But today morning was completely different. SinceI am alone at home, after 7.30am the door bell keeps ringing and even the phonestarts ringing so meditation is not possible. I was trying to find out theorigin for my “watchout state of mind”.

Take a few minutes of your day to just sit

Is itbecause Ravi woke me up suddenly? I normally wake up around 5am and leisurelycomplete my Morning Prayer meditation. Sometimes if I go to bed late, I set thealarm for one hour before the time I have to get up so that there is enoughtime for meditation. But since I had just come back from a long tour and it wasSaturday, I deliberately did not set the alarm and due to IPL cricket match,went to bed around midnight. I realized that although circumstances led to it,that actual fact is that I allowed the circumstances to emerge in the firstplace and subsequently did not rectify it when I could have done so. In other words, I went to bed late but didnot set up the alarm and then I did not meditate after sending off Ravi.

“Watchoutstate of mind” happens when you are ready to face the outside world or when youare planning or preparing to face the outside world. It is as opposed to the“Let go” or “at home” state of mind. But it is not the restless state of mind.I used to believe that you are either completely relaxed or else you arerestless.

But now this watchout state, in between those two states of mindseems to have emerged! This state of mind is probably more harmful in the longrun because it is so deceptive.

If you arein a restless state of mind, you are ‘hyper’ and the moment you become aware ofthis, you can seek help or help yourself to come out of it. But this watchoutstate of mind can happen indefinitely. Come to think of it, most of the peopleare in this state of mind most of the time and that is the root cause of allills faced by all mankind.

A newawareness for this watchout state of mind needs to be created. It can betriggered when you live alone, when you are waiting for someone or something,when you feel a sense of boredom, loneliness, mildly depressed or anxious. Ofcourse, it can happen when none of these or any other external trigger exists.It can also be prevented in spite of any or all of these triggers beingpresent.

Life is nota continuous flow of events. Each moment is separate from the other and can beexperienced afresh. The illusion of continuous flow of events occurs because ofmemory. Just as light is not a continuous wave but is made up of packets ofparticles, so also, time is not a continuous flow of events but of separateindividual moments. If one person deeply irritates you and goes away, you endup expressing the irritation on the next person who happens to come before you.This is because we experience life as a continuous flow of events rather thanmomentary! This is also the reason why we continue to remain in the watchoutstate of mind even when its triggers fade.

Deep wisdom and maturity is required to enableus to naturally realize the momentary nature of life and live as such. Untilthen, we need to take a break every now and then so as to cut off the continuousflow of events and make our experience of life momentary and fresh.

Sleep doesnot give us this kind of break from the flow. Even after a full night’s sleepyou can get up with a depression or with irritation! This is evident fromtoday’s morning experience. Only Pranayama or Yoga or Meditation can give usthis break.

Awareness isa wonderful tool. As I became aware of all this, I could take a short fiveminute break and meditate and get the break from my watchout state ofmind. Even though I missed my pranayama,I felt fresh and went ahead and had a good eventful day. But for that fiveminute meditation break, I am sure my day could have been worse. If you startlooking at your state of mind regularly and remedy it with these tools, I amsure you can experience a more wholesome life.

S. Selvan.
March 13, 2010.

Spiritual Diary # 6: Quietening the mind

2011-11-15T00:21:00.000+05:30

If you have a minute to spare, just close your eyes and observe what happens in that head of yours. We are plagued by our thoughts. Thoughts about what, when, how and why of any and every thing. It is these thoughts that make us. Indeed, my thoughts create opinions about things and people, they help me understand the world, albeit through a narrow lens, they help me decide on my life's goals and they help me critically analyze what is good for me and the world at large. They prepare me for success and failure. They make us, really. I think, therefore I am.

If you give yourself a few minutes everyday to just watch your thoughts, you will be astound by how repetitive, mundane and tangential they can get. Of course, there are moments of creative thinking, sparks that define us too, but they are thoughts all the same. I think, therefore I am.

But isn't that limiting? 'I', my ego, keeps things in control by thinking-logically, practically, emotionally, but what about the moments when we let go, loose control, surrender and become one, moments when thoughts cease to exist, albeit momentarily?

Are you listening?

Quietening the mind is a process that entails making the ego permeable. Making the 'I' permeable. It entails letting others in, being vulnerable and dropping the controlling aspects of our selves. This, I am learning, happens when you balance the 'being' and 'doing' aspects of yourself.

For me, putting my little baby girl to sleep is one of those moments of letting go and making my ego permeable. If my mind is racing, and is full of thoughts about things to do, I fail to notice what Anika wants. She cries and screams, almost like telling me to focus on something besides myself. Only when I switch from the 'I' state can I really listen to her needs. Only when I cease to think and just be, can I deeply feel connected to my daughter.

I'll bet that most of us have experienced, in one way or another, this connection. When you find a deeper connection with yourself or someone else there is a sense of falling away of the ego. Words have a way of coming in between this understanding. Think about times when just looking at someone arose compassion, love and calmness.

Thoughts separate us from what is.They take us away from connections we can possibly make with others in the present moment. They separate us from deeper connections we can make with ourselves and the world. But how does one not think? In our day-to-day lives there are many moments when we let go and just be. Like when I put my baby to sleep, when I relinquish my stubborn "must have's" to some one else's requests or when I meditate.

Here is a wonderful quote from Mark Epstein's book that is apt in the context of quieting the mind:

"Be Patient, do nothing, cease striving. We find this advice disheartening and therefore unfeasible because we forget it is our own inflexible activity that is structuring the reality. We think that if we do not hustle, nothing will happen and we will pine away. But the reality is probably in motion and after a while we might take part in that motion. But one can't know" -Paul Goodman.

Spiritual Diary # 5: Mindful Activism

2011-11-03T22:50:00.001+05:30

Today is one of those days. I woke up next to my little one whowas also beginning to wake. Because it was early and because she had slept latelast night, I knew from previous experience that if I didn't activate her shewould go back to sleep. But here was my husband, who woke up along with ustoday and was thrilled to see that our little one was waking. He cooed to her,kissed her and began to talk to her. Anika was enjoying it but I was upset. Itold my husband not to activate her, that she needed her sleep and she would goback to sleep if she was left to herself. I regretted this soon as I said it.

Photo: Charlotte Community of Mindfulness

Thus began my morning, with a 'no!' on my lips and regret on mymind. I wanted it to go away because that's not what a mindful person wakes upwith. Unfortunately, I couldn't shake off the feeling that germinated within meand I just went about my morning's spiritual practice with a cloud in my head.

The feeling grew larger and wilder when I 'had' to hurry mypractice, take care of some chores and put my baby back to sleep and itculminated in the most unmindful outburst at my mother. Of course, at the endof it my loop of regret and anger at myself only got reinforced. I sat for my afternoon practice of meditation and saw that I was pushing a part ofmyself away, like an adult who shushes a child who only knows how to cry whenher needs are not met. This imagery instantaneously roused compassion in myheart for the part I was pushing away. So okay, I was angry, I was upset and Iwas grouchy. I sat with the feeling without trying to decipher who did what tomake me go bonkers. The meditation didn't leave me feeling great but I was ableto step out of the cycle somewhat and by my evening practice I felt mindfulenough to let go.

Why am I sharing this detail? I've just begun to appreciate how immenselyimportant these bad days are in teaching me about myself and aboutthe world around me. We talk about greed, about discrimination, aboutinequality and about how it is all rests in our hearts. These dark feelingsgerminate and stay within us much like my anger, dissatisfaction and regret.Often these feels go on to hurt someone else. We hurt our family with our harshwords, we hurt our mother earth with our unmindful deeds and we hurt each otherand ourselves with our discriminatory treatment towards one another. Most ofall we hurt ourselves. Our anger, greed, fear, insecurity gets reinforced whenwe try to push it away or try to eliminate it by taking it out on someone else.I don't mean to say we should stop it right away. I tried pushing my anger andit went nowhere. It reinforced itself with every other aspect of my day. What Ido mean to point out though, is that what you see on the outside germinates fromwithin. Not being mindful at the start of my day made me look at everythingthrough that lens. Everything seemed unacceptable, including myself.

My anger towards hate crimes is justified, my anger towardsinequalities is further justified, hey! I am a brown woman from a developingcountry I know what it is to be discriminated against. But this anger that'sarising in me, can i just sit with it? Just sit with the anger and not withwhat happened to anger me. Can I sit with it and accept it? Can I breathethrough it and gain a broader perspective? Is there a child within that isbeing shushed? Whatever it be, understanding the source of our darknessand another persons behavior from this place of accepting our anger (ordarkness for that matter)can help us break out of the cycle of hate. I amhopeful about that. What might germinate from understanding is mindful action.I would have woken up with with my husband and baby and spend the early hoursof the morning in the cocoon of love that was generated by Anika's smile and myhusband's delight.

You loose an opportunity to love, understand and partake in growthand joy when you act from a place of anger, fear, insecurity, greed-from aplace of un-mindfulness. You also gain love, understanding and joy from thissame place if you can accept it, breathe and practice in some mindfulactivities.

I hope to notice my anger, my greed, my jealousy, my darkness, tosee how it manifests within me and outside of me, I hope to take thatopportunity to teach me a new way of being. That is activism to me.

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Spiritual Diary # 4:Humility

2011-10-28T17:01:00.001+05:30

I bow to the darkness within.
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It feels like a cloud of negativity has been floating around in my head. I am confronted with a darkness that I could conveniently ignore before. But not now. As I go deeper into my spiritual diet I feel darkness than light. Old wounds or rather unresolved conflicts seem to open up inside me and every time I sit I gape into the wound that has opened up. It's sore, it's burning and it's uneasy.

The broken relationships, the angry words, worry about the future, the flitting hopelessness, they are all sitting on my chest and the back of my head. I recite "breathing in I calm my thoughts, breathing out I am serene" I am momentarily calmed but the thought comes back like a big black cloud. What do I do with you thoughts? How do resolve you? How do I make peace with you? These questions keep gnawing at me. Restlessness gets the better of me. I feel the need to resolve now.

I feel restlessness during my meditation practice, I seem to nod off more during the day, am I avoiding my big bad cloud? And yet I sit, I sit with the deep belief that seems to pervade within: this moment is exactly as it should be. Pushing away my darkness has never helped me resolve it, in fact putting it away for later has only eaten me up even more and yet a part of me seems to be doing that. I don't want to face regrets, or anger or worry.

Amazingly enough, as I sit everyday with my feelings, I become one with them. It's as if that part of me which was pushing away regret, anger and worry( for a more sublime state of being) was finally seeing that carrying emotions from the past and for the future was only human, it was in fact a part of being whole. There wasn't a thing I needed to do about it other than watch it and embrace it, as I would an innocent child. I smile at the dawning of some light within me as I continue to sit.

As I learn to bow to the darkness within I seek to understand what I push away so I can embrace every part of me, every part of the universe.

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Spiritual Diary #3: Understanding

2011-10-22T13:35:00.001+05:30

"The giver is our parents; we are the continuation of our parents and our ancestors. The gift is our body itself. The one who receives the gift is us. As we continue to meditate on this, we see clearly that the giver, the gift, and the receiver are one. All three present in our body. When we are deeply in touch with the present moment, we can see that our ancestors and all future generations are present in us. Seeing this, we will know what to do and what not to do-for ourselves, our ancestors, our children and their children" -Nhat Hahn in Peace is Every Step.
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Anger. Jealously. Hatred. Contempt. Greed. I have it all in my heart and as I move through my 21 day spiritual diet I seem to become more and more aware of it. I have had days when I wake up irate. Possessed by anger I express it when my husband doesn't fold the sheets, leaves a wet towel on the bed, or rushes me on his way to work. On irate days I am unpleasant with my parents who call me in the morning to wish me a good day. I am upset by the traffic, by the maid, by work and finally by myself for being irate. As the day gradually moves by I can 'suck it up' but I am never fully recovered from mornings like these. I find myself on a loop of regret and guilt for having been rude to myself and people around me.

Shining the light of mindfulness on my everyday life has led me to become aware of the seed of my anger, when it begins to form. While I sit with my destructive emotions and look at them, a new understanding dawns on me.Nhat Hahn in his book asks us not to push our emotions away but sit with them and breathe "Breathing in, I know that anger is in me, Breathing out, I know that I am my anger" breathe instead of being consumed by thoughts about what another person did to anger us.

Nhat Hanh ask us if we would scream at the lettuce for not growing well? No! If you have planted the lettuce and it doesn't seem to grow well you will look into the reasons for why it isn't growing well rather than yell at the lettuce or blame yourself or someone else for it. Once you understand the reason you will nourish it in a way that will make it grow well. Thus are humans. If you find that you are angry at someone, sit, breathe and ask yourself why that is so. When you shine this kind of mindfulness on yourself and others, real understanding takes place.

In an emphatic statement Nhat Hanh says "no blame, no reasoning, no argument, just understanding, if you understand, and show that you understand, you can love, and the situation will change". While it feels like a tall order, I start with myself. All of psychology tells you that when you are angry you should breathe, count from 10 to 1 but I have found that this does very little. What has helped instead is this practice of everyday mindfulness even when you are not overwhelmed by negative emotions. Breathing in I calm my body, breathing out I smile. Dwelling in the present moment, I know this is a wonderful moment!" . Practicing mindfulness through yoga, meditation and pranayam helps me catch my negative emotions the moment it shows up . Practicing mindfulness will place positive seeds on an everyday basis which will then act as antibodies, taking care of negative emotions when they seize us.

Nhat Hahn says, if we can see the entire humanity in a grain of rice, if we can see our mother in the palm of our hand, when we are one with our parents, our ancestors and our children in a way that is expressed in the first quote, we are open to knowing that there is a reason behind every destructive emotion and when we can sit with this insight utmost compassion is what flows forth.

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Spiritual Diary # 2: Experience

2011-10-15T23:33:00.001+05:30

Take a moment as you read this to close your eyes and take a deep breath saying 'in' to yourself as you breathe in and saying 'out' as you breathe out. Do this again. And as you finish your second breath let your body relax while you keep your eyes closed for a few moments. Slowly open your eyes after those few moments and go back to reading or doing whatever you were doing before.

In those calm moments, you just experienced the 'experiencing self'. The self that allows you to stay engaged and absorbed in things you love most. The self that allows you to be mindful and aware of each moment. My lesson for the last two days has been to stay aware of every moment or in my case as many moments as possible.

In a conversation with my sister today she reminded me about a talk we heard on TED.com on happiness. Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman talks about how there are two types of selves that inhabit within us-the remembering self and the experiencing self. Kahneman talks about how both the selves experience happiness differently. He says that the experiencing self is the moment to moment interpreter of our lives. The way I understand this is that, this is the self that sustains mindfulness. It is what you just saw for yourself with that short meditation.

In the same link you will see that Martin Seligman talks about what he calls engagement. He says that an engaged life is a life that allows you to become absorbed in love, friendship, work and leisure. It is what keeps your experiencing self at its peak of 'happiness' so to speak. When you enhance the experience of engagement you enhance your well being.

Photo:Plumvillage

Going back to that conversation with my sister, she was telling me how rushed her life feels, how her PhD is pushing her to the brink of insanity almost. She was talking about how her expectations about herself was the main thing to blame. Haven't we all been there? I for one know exactly what she means. I am sure some of you know what it is to work and work till you drop down dead every night only to start over again the next day. Like me, my sister also decided she needed to reorganize her schedule and allow some moments where she can actually experience. That's it. Experience.

On a day-to-day basis I find that, I eat in a mighty hurry, I think about what the next best thing to do is, while already doing something else, I think about how I want to finish something soon enough to do to the next thing. But taking a break, stopping, and taking a deep breath lets me just be.

My book for this first cycle of the spiritual diet asks me to do whatever I do just for its sake. Eating for the sake of eating, washing dishes just for the sake of washing dishes, walking for the sake of walking, etc.Of course there are tons of reasons for doing those things but while you are doing it, just do it as if that is the only thing to do in this moment.

Breathe in-and-out as if that is all there is to do in this moment. Experience. that is all.

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Spiritual Diary #1: Smile

2011-10-13T22:56:00.002+05:30

My first spiritual diet lesson is to consciously smile. In the book Peace is Every Step, Thich Nhat Hanh says smiling helps us approach the day with gentleness and understanding. I remember trying this when I was a teenager. Back then, I had read somewhere that 15minutes of smiling continuously every morning made you a happier and more pleasant person to be with. When I was 16 I was definitely not a pleasant person to be with. Ask my mom. I was the quintessential teenage rebel with a frown on my face and questions in my heart. I was always angry and irate. So when I read that piece of instruction to smile I decided to take it up as a challenge. I remember waking up early and smiling continuously for 15 minutes while i took a shower. It ended in a jaw ache, I tell you and I stayed as irate as ever.

Does my baby foot make you smile?

Today though, I feel profoundly grateful for the simple advice . In fact I find myself knowing what he means when he says smiling brings gentleness and understanding into our lives.In his book, Thich Nhat Hanh asks us to have reminders in our everyday life to help us smile, say you look at your clock, it should remind you to smile. You can have a flower or a quote on your desk/on a wall to remind you to smile.

My reminder to smile has been the face of my little baby girl. When I read what the author had to say, I just had to think back on all the moments when a smile from Anika got me to smile as well. Today, I made a conscious effort to acknowledge how I felt every time I smiled. This awareness about smiling helped spread awareness in everything I did. Every time I got angry I became aware of it, every time I yelled today, I became aware of it. Awareness certainly helped me adjust my perspective. Does smiling plunge you into gentleness and understanding? What does smiling do for you?

I leave you with a meditative tag from Nhat Hanh's book:

Breathing in, I calm my body.

Breathing out, I smile.

Dwelling in the present moment,

I know this is a wonderful moment!

Here's what spiritual dieting is and why I am going on one.

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Money, money, honey: Money Matters in Marriage

2011-09-15T23:38:00.000+05:30

Scenario 1: Shilpa, a 28year old fiercely independent woman works as a Chartered Accountant in a reputed MNC. Married last year she and her husband earn equally and adequately. They have separate bank accounts, savings and expenditure lists. She does not question her husband on how he spends/saves his money, nor does he question her. While this was an excellent, albeit unspoken financial agreement,the couple now plan to start a family.This is one of Shilpa dream come true, having a baby, she wants to take a two year break once she conceives to make the best of motherhood and family life. She wonders how to begin a conversation on money matters considering she would not be a full time worker any more. She wonders about joint savings for their children and about meeting day to day expenses. Conversations about money have always been uncomfortable in her family and often caused fights. She wonders what to do and how to talk about money with her husband.

Scenario 2: Ananta, a 35year old housewife has been married for the last 15 years. She married into a joint family and had to ask for money for her every day needs. She was not given an allowance and it never occurred to her husband to speak about finances with her. She was often frustrated and furious with everyone at home for the way they treated her when it came to money. How did she figure out money matters and continue to live happily married for the last 15 years?

Scenario 3: Ruksana 30 year of part-time worker is married to Aamir who has a high profile job. Aamir provides for the household expenses and the couple has a joint account for household and family expenses, since Aamir earns four times more than Ruksana he chooses to be the only one contributing to the joint account. Ruksana often runs by everything with her husband before making any kind of purchase, even if she is spending from her own pocket. Aamir on the other hand makes an extravagant purchase without running it by his wife, what is wrong with this picture?

Scenario 4: Smriti is the sole income earner while Shiva has taken a break from work to go back to business school this year. How do they figure out finances?

The scenarios are endless and so are the possible fights brewing out of these scenarios. What is the glaring issue we are talking about? Its money honey! Who gets what, how to spend and how to live peacefully with it in a relationship. A lot can depend on how you deal with money issues in your relationships/marriage. Here are some tips on figuring out how to make sense of money in your relationship.

1. Know this: Money has no power of its own. It’s what we make of it that matters (and often troubles our relationship).

2. Stay calm: When talking about money with your spouse, stay calm. Don't push this discussion to a time when you absolutely HAVE to talk about money, instead, take time when everything is well in your financial life to sit together and make sense of how you might want to deal with finances as a team.

3. Have an honest talk: Like I said before money has no power of its own. Its what we make of it that matters. So think back on what money means to you? How did your family deal with money issues? For some of us money means love, for others it is power, control or independence. What does money mean to you? Discuss this with your partner. She/he needs to know (as much as you do)where you are coming from when you start to worry, get paranoid, or go on a spending spree.

4. Step out of the box: A ton of sites online and a ton of books offline will give you "how-tos" on the best ways to work money into your relationship peacefully. Read them. But know that you and your partner need to come up with a strategy best suited for your needs and situation. So, yes, you can have a joint account for household, vacation and other common expenses while having separate accounts for personal expenses. You can havea joint account for everything with budget restrictions on personal expenditure, you can even let one of you take care of all financial responsibilities. The goal is to work it out the best way possible. Transparency and honesty is the key of course. If you feel uncomfortable with something ’fess up and negotiate.

5. Get help: Talking to a third person (such as me, a Counselor) about your particular issue can often be helpful in figuring out how to stay calm, be honest about money and make amends that help in building a successful marriage.

6. Take a breather: You don't have to figure it all out in one conversation of course. If discussions become heated, take a breather and go back to it later on. And really, money is often a hot issue in all our lives, so its okay to keep going back to talking about it till you figure it out.

How do you deal with money/finances in your relationship? How do people you know deal with it? Share your ideas and also tell us what works in your relationship. You never know, your idea might just help someone!

Discovering Miracles

2011-09-02T21:01:00.016+05:30

When I was single I believed marriage had to be a thought-out decision, something that one should come to after much deliberation, forethought and planning. That went out the window when at 20 I just decided to marry at what seemed like a whim even to me. Then I said to myself, ok marriage was spontaneous but getting pregnant had to ABSOLUTELY be when i was truly ready. Seven years after marriage, I just knew being "ready" was just humbug. How can one be really ready for something they had NO experience of before?The most planned thing about my pregnancy was that we timed our "impregnate me rituals" and there, I was pregnant! There were other things I planned but one of the most important things that came together so beautifully in the birthing of my baby was her place of birth!

At the onset I have to say, I absolutely hate most doctors, especially presumptuous ones who think yelling at the patient or having a Dr. in front of their names should in itself command respect and servitude. Only last week, I yelled back at a pediatrician we went to, in Delhi, for Anika's second round of shots. I will never be seeing her again that's for sure, but I digress...

anyway you can see why finding the right ob/gyn was so important for me. I was recommended one of the most famous hospitals for birthing in my city. What that meant, I only discovered at the first appointment. I was given an appointment for 2pm, and was called in only at 4pm that day given that this famous hospital was so overcrowded. And once I went in, I got merely two minutes of the doctors time and was not even sure if I would see her again for my next appointment. While I know for a fact that many women birth their babies in hospitals where they dont know their ob/gyn until the last few months and have to wait for days on end for appointments and be given two minutes of time for clarifying all their questions, I for one wanted something more.

My search led me into the arms of The Sanctum , the natural birthing center at Healthy mother wellness and care. I learnt that the Healthy Mother Wellness and Care was a birthing center like no other in India! They follow the midwifery model of birthing. It was love at first sight for me. Just as spontaneous as falling in love with my husband, getting married or falling in love with being pregnant.

My eyes welled up in tears the first day I met my midwife. It felt like I finally was in safe hands, I knew at once that this is where my voice would be heard and my body respected and my baby welcomed with love. My midwife actually saw me on scheduled appointments, gave me half an hour of her time everytime we met and I didnt ever feel dumbed down! Now how many of us can say that of our experiences with our ob/gyns?

Anika, my little munchkin was born on the 6th of July 2011. My experience of birthing her has been one of the most profound experiences I have ever had. As a psychologist I often live in my head, only listening to my body when its most imperative. As a woman, my relationship with my body is as confused as this society allows me to be- with "I am fat, I am ugly, I am not good enough" phases that most woman go through now and then. And to add to this, as someone who has had her quota of being molested in public transport in India I have often ignored my body, and never given heed to signs that it gives me, pushing it to work for my mind as often and as optimally as possible. But birthing amidst some of the most strongest women in my life-my mother, my sister, and some of the strongest and brave midwives at The Sanctum I realized there was more to my body than what I was led to believe. That night with my contractions getting stronger and stronger and with sleep competing with my contractions I wanted nothing but sweet release. I wailed for the pain to stop and wailed that I just wanted to sleep. I cried that I could'nt take the pain anymore. With my sister constantly massaging my back and my mother continually feeding me a Bach flower remedy I went into the pain head on. My midwives pleaded me to listen to my body, to allow the pain to envelop me and thereby let my body take control. But this was such an alien concept for me. How does one let the body take control? why would one do that?? In the midst of all the pain I kept telling my midwife, I didnt know what letting my body take control meant, I told her it wasnt happening. That the pain was just going to have to be in my control and not the other way. But, little did i know that a room full of women who believe in you can make you move mountains or atleast can help you deliver that baby.

While I cried some more and pushed a lot more, I couldnt but be so deeply grateful for all the people in that room. I would hug my midwife and plead with her, I would hold her hand and push, I would let my sister massage my back while I pushed and would drink the water my mother offered me now and then. I could squat and push, sit on the wc and push and just lie on the floor in between each contraction. I felt embraced by the people in that room and I felt cradled in their support and knowledge that this was the way it was supposed to be. This was the way it was supposed to be. When it was time and my baby rushed out, the beauty of it and the rush of love I felt in my chest was something I will always remember and savor. My baby was immediately placed in my arms and I fed her right there! and pain? what pain? It was like I never had contractions! All I had was the body of a little baby in my hands with eyes full of wonder and keenness that I have ever seen. From not being able to understand what it meant to let go and listen to my body I went right into it and came out happier than I've ever felt.

A recent study on happiness suggests that how an experience ends either makes that event a happy or a sad one. So having Anika immediately in my hands certainly had to make the experience of labor sweet for me. But I have to say, having a group of women who believed that my body could do this feat, not only led me to have a profound experience of my body but also led to an intimate bond with my baby.

While my relationship with my baby and my body continues to take new turns, I had a lesson on a thing called control. I often catch myself planning, overthinking and plotting my life on a graph that is prescribed by what ought to be in my head and outside of it, and while planning, overthinking and plotting helps, letting go is what really does the trick!

In Pursuit of Love

2011-08-10T21:53:00.002+05:30

If I spiral down memory lane and look for what I have been yearning since I can remember, I can with much certainty say that it has been about the pursuit of love. I remember how school was not really about interesting subjects but about friendships-making, breaking, mending, loosing and nurturing them. In high school it was about falling in love- preserving it, nurturing it and sustaining it. Through childhood I remember being burnt by unrequited friendships and love. I strived to receive affection, I strived for acceptance and I wanted to be loved. The experience of love like I wanted it, happened through time ofcourse, the fond memories of my parents’ love for me and as I approached my late teens and early twenties my stable friendships and love- they all sustained me. The need for love never ceases though. While I continue to ask for more from those I love, and while I suffer time and again from perceived losses of some form of love or the other, I have recently begun to experience the giving of love brought about by the birth of my daughter.

She smiles spontaneously at nothing, she cries when I don’t notice those other signs she gives me when she’s hungry, she squirms when she’s wet and she has the most hilarious “hands-up” jerk when she is startled by pretty much anything she chooses to be startled by. She sleeps erratically. The other day when we took her for some vitamin D bath under the early morning sun and she was turned around on her tummy, placed on her grammas legs, she was so curious about what was happening she tried to hold her neck up! She carries my heart with her. I tear up with every cry I don’t understand and at every wrong thing I do with her. My heart almost stopped when I took a look at the needle she had to be injected with for her vaccination, and what a quiet baby we had that day! Only the other day she looked at me with her bright wide eyes and smiled a beaming smile making my heart truly stop a beat. She just turned one month! The reality of her being certainly becomes clearer and more profound with the passing of each day. Never have I known a capacity to love so deep than I do now. My love for her has cycled through time, it feels. From being the one receiving it all to being someone who has finally learnt to readily give, my receptacle of love seems full and overflowing.

Simply complicated.

2011-06-10T20:59:00.005+05:30

Is simplicity overrated? If it is not, can I just trade simplicity for how complicated I make my life out to be? As a psychologist, I am trained to look at thoughts, feelings and impressions that lead to the behavior that can be seen outwardly. But its not easy this task because there is so much we don’t want to know about ourselves, despite the fact that we confess to the contrary.

Take for instance this aspect of wanting to be in control and ‘on top of it all’. Studies in psychology suggest that if you suffer from mental illness, like say depression, but are able to take control of your life, you are well on your way to recovery. This applies to individuals without mental illness as well, of course. I thrive when I am in control of the direction I take in my life. I would imagine that a lot of us are. If we chart out a path and we are sailing nice and fine then where is the question of stress, anxiety and every other unpleasant feeling? And even if the path is filled with obstacles, that is the chosen path and hence we are open to what is to come, most often at least. But when is life this clear cut?

Many times our stress/ unpleasant feelings start when we have to decide what we have to choose to do. Say for instance a toddler's conflict of stealing cookies from the cookie jar only to endure serious time -out, an adolescents conflict of enduring embarrassment at the cost of professing love, a couples conflict of pursuing a career while continuing a long distance relationship, a mother's conflict of going back to work after a new born, the list is endless, and you get the point. These conflicts are called approach-avoidance conflicts. This theory states that, in life, you will sometimes have two or more conflicting choices and, a decision to make; there will be several alternatives that you can take which will have several positive and negative aspects to it which make it at once attractive and undesirable. The theory states that when you have choices like this, and you have to make a decision on what to do, you are as you can already tell, stressed out.

So, coming back to this aspect of wanting to be in control of all that you can manage; If taking control of your life and your decisions is a proven way to live a stress free life then why is choosing how to take control of this life such a difficult task?

Supportive Psychotherapy is the cat out of the bag. It is a simple yet extremely potent modality of therapy that helps us through the quagmire we sometimes find ourselves in.
Borrowed from this modality of psychotherapy are some pointers on what you can do when you find yourself stuck in a place with no return:

1. Acceptance: The first step in doing something about where you are is plainly, to accept where you are. It does not mean knowing you are anxiety wound and yet being wound to knots wondering what to do. It does not mean being irritated and on the edge about everyday things because you are so preoccupied with what’s bothering you. It also does not mean feeling dejected and hopeless about what is to come. These however may be things one experiences before acceptance. Acceptance is the next level of knowing. It is a calm understanding of where you are, a surrendering to the right now. It is acknowledging that you have a problem that you just cannot solve at this moment. You let things be. It is not a passive state of giving up but an active one of embracing the situation and being completely conscious of ending the cycle of frustration that comes with being stuck. It is choosing to, as they say, “go with the flow”; a flow of active acceptance and surrender. It is in trusting in the basic premise that we move, we move from now to what-is-to-come. It is in taking action when there is a need to but letting go and moving with the moment when there is no need to. Release, breathe and let go of being wound in knots. Acceptance is certainly not easy, hence my struggle with just describing what it is. When I find myself conflicted I am definitely wound into knots, for days on end, until I am willed to accept. It comes as a pleasant release to all my anxieties and frustrations when I do.

2. Keep your eyes and ears open for windows of opportunities: Acceptance comes with constant awareness of where you are in the moment. How you feel, how you emote, and how you relate are at the forefront of your awareness along with the intention to change it. With this awareness comes openness to opportunities. The world opens itself to many possibilities, perhaps ones that you weren’t even considering. But then again, perhaps possibilities won’t open up, so what? The fact is it clears your mind to look at your problem through a new lens, a lens that you allowed to clear with acceptance. So yes, keep your eyes and ears open for windows of opportunities and truly stay spontaneous.

3. “Symptom management”: signs of anxiety can range from palpitation, anxious ruminations, perspiration, chest constriction, hyperarousal, restlessness, avoidance, hypervigilance, hyperactivity, or lack of activity and so forth. Signs of depression can range from sad mood, negative cognition, negative rumination, hopelessness, worthlessness, suicidality, helplessness, avoiding pleasurable activities, crying spells, anger, lethargy, poor appetite and sleep, lack of energy and so forth. Now, awareness of one’s inner conflict and acceptance of the same does not mean we stop experiencing symptoms of anxiety and sadness. We might have ups and downs of it despite how hard we are trying to “go with the flow”. So becoming watchful of these signs and managing them becomes important. How do you do that? In a conversation with my dad about distractions from our major anxiety provoking issues he said something funny, yet profound. In order to distract himself from pressing anxieties he faces at work he takes a break by thinking about minor anxieties such as what to cook when he gets home (in the absence of my mum), or what to focus on at the gym, or how to help Aarathi (me) with her pressing situations. So Distraction is a powerful tool to help you go with the flow. Go to my previous blog on Intolerable me for more pointers on what you can do to distract yourself from anxious or sad states of being.

4. Mobilize Support: When you open your eyes to what is in front of you and acknowledge it you become open not only to opportunities that present itself but also to people who are willing to be there for you. Think about who you can confide in? Who can you talk to in order to feel supported, comforted and assisted? Go talk to them.

So there, that’s the ‘how to’ of getting some ‘control’ back in life. A long winded way to simplicity because we certainly have a knack for making our lives complicated than they ought to be.

And my baby's here!!

2011-03-14T13:45:00.009+05:30

At 20 weeks I felt her kick for the first time, it’s called quickening one of my baby books told me. I wasn’t sure if it was my stomach rumbling or it was really her. It felt like a heartbeat, but only, in the stomach. It gradually became more apparent and I was sure it really was her. My baby was letting me know she was there, experiencing everything that I was, in her own unique way. I announced to the world (made up of my family and some very dear friends, and now, literally the whole world) that I could really feel her. No it was not gas, no it was not my pulse throbbing somewhere in my belly, it was my baby kicking. She was there, real flesh and blood and real feelings and real presence. My munchkin, as I call her, finally let me know she was not going to be a quiet presence in my life; she wanted me to know that she was there and that I better take note.

And take note, I did. I have realized that I am going to keep uncovering the reality of her being, her unique presence at every stage of our lives together. And today as I think about her and feel her kick and swim in me I am profoundly amazed, scared and blown away. I find myself wrapped in her love, her courage and perseverance. I am scared of the changes that come upon me. Will I know what to do? Who am I now? What happens now? The answer lies in the opening up of my true nature, the blossoming of a bud, almost, to a world of greater love, patience, balance and gratitude. I am also gratified by my experience of right now, the right now where I can carry my baby with me everywhere I go, the right now where I can feel her tell me about herself in ways I can only infer at the most. It is this right now that I love because it gives me an opportunity to be grateful to this universe that created us, one after another. In all, I am grateful to the whole universe from the beginning of time for giving me this day, to write and experience my baby, my little munchkin baby who swims within me in bliss and patience awaiting the many wonders her worlds has in store for her.

It is so natural to be scared during this process and letting go and embracing the unknown in order to overcome my fears seems to be my obvious coping plan. When I worry about my identity I am reminded that I can only begin to enlarge my sense of being rather than become shrunk by the changes. I think about what I learn every day through this process. I remind myself to:
 Calm my senses once in a while to feel all that I am feeling
 Listen to what my heart is truly saying, what tricks my mind is playing and I learn to embrace both of them at once
 Smile more often than not
 Become the unchanging sky that can watch the clouds of reaction and not be shaken by it
 Embrace fear so I can overcome it
 Let love empower me and overflow outward
 Watch how previous relationships take on a new flavor, shape and form
There is so much happening that sometimes I wish I can capture it in video. My first Lamaze class, for instance, was such a thrill. It was the first time ever that my husband and I went to a class together. It was an opportunity for me to realize how alike we are, he kept criticizing parents (in his head, and with me) who began to consider their health only now, he kept making fun of one thing or the other and we couldn’t stop giggling! We also found so many things amazing and we concurred on such similar things, I couldn’t help but beam with admiration for him.

As I move along on this path, there are many days I feel everything’s going to go well and a few of them when I panic and call my parents or talk to my husband, sounding completely frantic. It is amazing how every moment of our life offers us the opportunity to just feel and wonder about where it all springs from. I wish I could say we all should be grateful for life’s gifts but it seems more sensible to say that it is moments like these that remind you be grateful for life as it is.

The black, the white and the shades of marriage

2011-01-16T11:07:00.002+05:30

7th January 2011 was my wedding anniversary. The night before, my husband had to remind me about what was special about the 7th. I had forgotten until then! He said it was a good thing, that it meant I had stopped keeping count and had settled into forever-after. I liked that. I’ve been married 6 years now. It’s not a long time for some but for a few it might be. I have known my husband for almost 12 years in all, now see that’s a whole lot longer for anyone to settle into forever after, wouldn’t you think? A couple of friends and I went out for dessert at lunch and suddenly while enjoying yummy dessert I had a pantomime mic (courtesy, one of my friends) ask me how marriage had been and if there were words of advice I would give to recently married and engaged women. That inspired me to think about my marriage, think about all the things I love and don’t about being married and our adjustments, compromises, agreements and disagreements. So here go some of my thoughts:

1. Gradually in marriage you move from an ego-centric place to acknowledging that your spouse has opinions, thoughts and ideas of his own-for the marriage, for himself and for you. Don’t be surprised!

2. Distance is definitely healthy in a marriage. If you have the space to think about it you might just realize how blessed you are to be in the marriage and how glad you are to also get distance. Embrace it!

3. Marriage is certainly not simple. Anything but. It has its nights and days of completely disliking your spouse, of getting annoyed at everything about him, of not being sure why you were married, of bitching about him with your girlfriends and mom. But, that’s just normal. I can bet I have felt dislike for every person I love, at one point or the other. Love and hate co-exist and I don’t see how this is any different from any other kind of hating/loving.

4. I remember comparing the-living-with-the-in-laws type to caged animals (myself included). Not in a bad way at all. In the book ‘Life of Pi’ the author sheds some light on animals in zoo. Says he that, it is not true that animals hate living in the zoo, that the only animals that escape the zoo are those that are not given their own clean and clear boundaries. Who are not respected with the space that belongs to them, these are the animals that flee and/or accidently while fleeing kill the zoo owner. The lesson to take from here is, regardless of who feels caged (the daughter-in-law or the MIL), what is necessary is boundaries in that relationship and minimal interference from the zoo authorities to live relatively happily!

5. There will be times when your husband wants something, and wants it bad and you? You don’t really care if you have it right now, or you don’t think you are ready for it yet. It could be anything, a baby, a supersonic bike, a trip somewhere with you when you have no time to spare, what do you do? Obviously talking is out of the question; he wants it and wants it bad, really, if you can talk some sense go right ahead. But I have come to believe, if I am not feeling so strongly about something he wants, or I am conflicted, it might help to go with the flow and follow his gut since yours is not ringing major alarm bells anyway. And who knows, it might result in something wonderful and a whole new side of your husband for a few months at the least.

6. Every time I attend a wedding, or there is one at home, I am deeply, deeply grateful that I am married and don’t EVER have to repeat it, EVER. Ofcourse, you get to be the prettiest woman at your wedding and all that but Indian marriages take the juice out of you. I remember not having much autonomy or comprehension of the wedding rituals, how I tie my saree (madusar by the way) or what kind of non-armor –like garland I can wear. I loved that I was the center of attention but seriously, three or four days of wedding is not the end of all the wedding grandiosity. It goes on for months…and months. So enjoy the one time only affair that is the wedding and be done.

7. Talking about newly married’s, my in-laws certainly were in for a culture shock, brining me home (as was I ofcourse) so for those who may have my kind of grand entry, stay put and hopefully six years after they get used to your quirkiness. Even if they don’t then, that’s ok ,you both will find a middle path that Buddha suggested was so important.

8. It has taken me a long time to know this in my marriage, let just a pinch of feminist remain in you and throw most of the salt out. Why? In my marriage, I’ve known my husband to be as much a feminist as I am so what is really important is to shed the social norm ideology that makes us and begin to build a twosome relationship as two individuals. So, “you think, just because I am your “wife” I should fold your clothes?” goes out the window. What comes in is “ahh, let me do something good for him (even if it is cleaning his shelf out, especially after he requested you to)”.

9. Building a home with your husband is the funest part of all. You might be the best at home decoration but serendipitously (since I have such less time with work and all) I have found that letting the hubby in on what’s out there unleashes the interior-decorator-beast in him.

10. You and your husband ought to have different hobbies and interests. It helps to explore the others interests, like for me I am now a gym freak as much as I thought I couldn’t. And him? Didn’t I already say, he’s as much a feminist as I am.

11. One of the best things about being married is the unlimited hugs, kisses and cuddling available at your disposal. As for me, it’s never quite enough and I always enjoy the affection we share.

12. Another thing I totally love, is how, every time my hubby goes to the store he always gets me something. And often it’s something I am craving for! If you share a telepathic instinct thing with your husband keep it going and appreciate every small gesture with that genuine affectioning.

13. I have concluded that if my husband has a complaint about my parents and/or if my parents have a complaint about my husband then what they really want is each other’s loving (that they aren’t getting right now) as for me, I have both people that love me.

So there! Thirteen things in no order of importance that come to mind after some easy pondering. Do share some of your thoughts about being in a relationship. And settle into forever with delight because there is so much that can be found in a lifetime together.

Child Sexual Abuse: Prevention, Impact and Treatment.

2011-01-08T15:08:00.003+05:30

Clinical Psychologist during an intake: were you sexually abused?
Me: Yes.
Clinical Psychologist: Can you tell me about it?
Me: Well I was abused thrice…all three times by strangers, the first time when I was probably 10 years, in a train. I was with my family and everyone was asleep. I was traveling RAC with my grandmother and this man who was sharing the RAC seat put his hands under my skirt. I didn’t know how long his hand was between my things but when I woke up, it was there. I froze and didn’t know what to do until it was day light and he had finally decided to take his hand out.
Clinical Psychologist: That is not sexual abuse!
Me: (I Froze) what do you mean?
Clinical Psychologist: there was obviously no penetration. Sexual abuse is when penetration occurs and sexual molestation is when private parts are fondled. You should know that, you are studying to be a counselor!
Me: (visibly embarrassed and quiet thereafter)
While I do certainly wish the clinical psychologist in question was not so abrasive over technicalities and instead focused on what I was feeling. I was 22 years when this conversation occurred. Imagine my embarrassment. Here I was an “adult” in most ways than one and was totally unaware of how to address what happened to me and how to make sense of it. I am much older now and wiser than before. As a psychological counselor I have training in the area of abuse to be able to give words to my experience and I this knowledge will help some of the readers begin a journey into awareness about issues in child sexual abuse and molestation. While there are several aspects and people that this article can be addressed to, below are issues that are specific to what parents should do to prevent abuse, some “must know’s” of the effect of child abuse and some treatment strategies that parents can help their child with.

Prevention: If you are a parent: Start sex education early. It doesn’t necessarily have to be about the bees and the birds at the age of 5 or 6 but it is important to start by having a conversation with your child about good touch and bad touch. Mind you, what you say to a 5 year old about good touch and bad touch differs from what you say to 13 year old. However, what is important is, to:

1. Make the child feel comfortable when you are talking about this. Make eye contact with your child and ensure the child with your non-verbal’s and verbal’s that it is safe to talk to you about sex.

2. It is important to let the child know that her/his body is his own and that no one has the right to make the child feel uncomfortable. Uncomfortable touch does not necessarily have to come from strangers but often does. These kind of touches may include touching private parts, hitting, slapping, pushing and punching etc. (A general rule of thumb for “bad touch” is to ensure that the child knows that the area of the body not appropriate to touch is the area that a swimsuit covers.)

3. Encourage the child to say ‘stop’ and ‘no’ when she experiences uncomfortable touch. Let her know that, is she is alone, she can scream for help as well. Let her know that she should never be alone with a person who makes her feel uncomfortable.

4. Emphasize that it is never the child’s fault and that it’s important for her to believe in herself.

5. Most importantly when the child experiences an uncomfortable touch or a bad touch encourage her to come to you and share it with you immediately.

6. Encourage your child to ask questions and be open, honest. Stick to the facts when you give them answers. Also encourage sex education in school (through formal education) and at home. PARENT: STAY INFORMED.

Short and long term effects of Child Sexual Abuse and Molestation: Children react to abuse in different ways. Below is only a brief list of “must-know’s “:

1. It is possible that when immediate action is taken to protect the child, after a traumatic incident, the child may report minimal trauma or none at all as opposed to children who undergo significant abuse or molestation and have not shared it with their parent.

2. A possible psychological effect of sexual abuse is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). PTSD is (1) the frequent reexperiencing of the event through nightmares or intrusive thoughts (2) a numbing of general responsiveness to, or avoidance of current events and (3) persistent symptoms of increased arousal, such as jumpiness, sleep disturbance or poor concentration.

3. Children who have been abused exhibit more posttraumatic fear, anxiety and concentration problems than do their non-abused peers.

4. A variety of studies show that because children who have been abused are typically in a negative environment of abuse they tend to typically overestimate the amount of danger in the world and underestimate their self- worth and trust in themselves to take charge, and trust in others. They often feel a sense of helplessness and hopelessness about difficult situations.

5. In children, anger is frequently expressed in behavioral problems, with abused children and adolescents displaying significantly more difficulties in this area than what is found typically in the general population.

6. Frequently in adulthood these individuals show significant clinical depression or anxiety. Avoidance of abuse-specific memories and feelings involve abusing substances, increased suicidal thoughts and focusing on various other tension-reducing activities like indiscriminate sexual behavior, binging and purging may occur.

How an individual copes with abuse depends on several factors such as her temperament, family support, environmental conditions, early childhood bonding with child’s parents or guardians and so forth.

Treatment:Since the effect of abuse is varied among people so is the treatment. It often is tailored to the individuals needs. Hence a visit to a clinical psychologist or a psychological counselor can prove to be extremely helpful.

1. There are several modes of treatment or approaches that a clinician can guide a child or an adult with. Children often respond to structured models of play therapy and behavior modification that are catered to the child’s specific issues and eventually enable a child to reestablish trust in herself, in interpersonal relationships and in her own body.

2. Support at home to encourage the individual to seek treatment can go a long way.

3. If you are a parent, trusting the child when she come to you with this vulnerable piece of information can help ensure that the child can trust in herself and her environment to protect her right now and in the future as well. Take whatever action that needs to be taken to keep your child in a safe environment.

4. Allow the child space and time to heal and also let the child relearn how to trust the environment in which she has to readjust to.

5. Encourage the child to partake in grounding activities such as yoga, running, and other positive soothing self care activities and positive distraction strategies that will encourage the child to feel safe, grounded in the present and speed the process of recovery.

Last but not the least; I cannot emphasize how difficult an experience of abuse can be. Several studies show that children of the age of 5-12 are largely vulnerable to abuse and almost 50% of offenders are people that children often trust. Both boys and girls are at equal risks. The experience of abuse is as diverse as the number of experiences one can have. Abuse or molestation, whatever be it, has a significant impact on the child. Prevention, early intervention and support are some of the major areas that parents, educators and medical professionals should be educated in. Don’t take twenty two years of your life to set things straight with your child or yourself. Start right now!

(This Article was for a magazine Psyinsight, India.)

A Courageous Mistake...after another

2010-11-12T16:16:00.006+05:30

I should want this. But then I don’t, not entirely at least.
I should want to be there for you, with all my being,
I should want to share your dreams, your hopes and your ideas but then I don’t, not entirely at least.
I should want it so bad that I should make this happen, but then I don’t, not entirely at least.

I want it, only partially; like I wouldn’t mind having it but I wouldn’t collapse without it
But it angers you to know this and as a result angers me so
I am angry, not with you, but from not wanting it as much as you do,
Wanting it, only partially, for now at least.

I push myself hard, I feel like a thankless criminal everyday
I look at you and perceive reprimanding eyes,
The perceived reproof in your eyes, strokes remorse in my being.----------

What is the distance between sanity and insanity? What is the distance between love and hate? What is the distance between happiness and regret? I’ve come to believe that they are neighbors that these polarities hang on a thin line; that somewhere these paths merge. That it is one thin tight-rope on which all humans walk…one after another, simultaneously, and sometimes in a rush. How else can we make sense of some relationships where we begin with love and are weathered down by a series of wants, desires, expectations, routine, confrontations, arguments, dissatisfactions and finally crumble down to hate or love-hate maybe? How else can I justify knowing with complete sanity that a certain path is my destination only to realize a few years down that lane that maybe I made a mistake? And what is my justification that I am happy about giving up a part of me for some time, till I fulfill another’s want only to become bitter and angry later?
Spiritually of course, I am sure one would agree that love and hate, sanity and insanity, happiness and regret are merely two sides of the same coin, that they come from the Oneness and go back into it, that there is a more than just polarity in this world, that emotions are merely tides that touch the shore of reason and go back into the wilderness where they belong. Socio-culturally, there is the rationale that these polarities are concepts enveloped within a cultural space. That what I call insane in my country maybe perfect sanity in yours and so on.
My dimension of exploring polarities however emerges from within my emotions. From wondering what the distance is between feeling a high and a low, from wondering in awe, in fact, about my ability to switch from one negative perspective to a positive one or vice-versa. So here’s what I figure, if the polarities I experience are a thin tight rope on which I walk and that somewhere the path of happiness and sadness merge, of sanity and insanity intertwine and love and hate become one then why not free fall? Let me explain, if my polarities are two sides of a coin then it means I will experience hate and love, insanity and sanity, regret and satisfaction, sadness and happiness, regardless of what the situation is right? Then why not know that the decisions I have made will make me feel these various emotions anyway? Why not know that the decisions I make, every second of every day, will be cast into the myriad polarities of emotions? So might as well brave it up and live with old decisions and make new ones with more courage, no?

The Hurried Hope

2010-11-10T22:37:00.006+05:30

Its 9:30pm and I am reminded that night is well in its way for me. With a desire to prolong it, I make myself some chamomile tea and settle into my bed with pillows stacked to comfort my back. I find my perfect spot and retrieve my nighttime book, from under the bed. I take a sip of the tea and the warmth of the herbs envelops me. One of my little pleasures in life, I remind myself. With a deep sigh I look for the bookmarked page and begin to read. The words float in my head; I read a paragraph before I realize I haven’t taken much in, so I go back to the beginning of the page. Before long I’m living another’s life, living their chaos and their struggle. Scrunching up my eyebrows, tensing my shoulders, curling my toes under the sheets, I reach a catharsis and sigh with the character I have become involved with. Another sip of my tea forces me out of the bind. I am compelled to come back to a center that I keep experimenting with.

It’s always been this way, my life. Becoming involved in my own content- doing this, doing that, getting here, going there, running hard, sleeping sound, watching TV, fussing over not getting what I want. Then, there’s involvement with others’ content too. Like the characters of my book, the clients I see every day, the friends I am with as well as the million others I wait with at every traffic signal, with my windows rolled down. There is no assumption of a center when I am so focused on the surface. It’s present though, when I stretch and breathe into an asana, when I sip my chamomile tea, when I am lying in my bed having just woken up from a dreamless night.

At the end of the running around, vagabond like, I feel a hint of metallic angst and bitterness. Why am I not following a center, moving from within my center and living from within this center? I ask myself. A center of calmness and patience, a center that is not in a hurry to achieve but that can trudge along a path, any path and yet find joy. A center that can make peace with expectations that will either be fulfilled now, later or never.

Several compromises, some compulsions, obsessions and a ton of procrastinations make this goal of moving into the center such a forlon journey, an impossibility, if you will, to move to a centered place within oneself. And whats more, I find that this is a pattern many of us take to-clients, friends, family alike; one that is filled with obstacles that seem to want to turn us into chisseled glasses of perfection.

It’s funny, the very paradox we put ourselves in. I say “Find your center, Damn it!" - Always in a hurry to perfect myself, and yet always moving away from the very goal simply because I create this complex maze of many "if's" and "should be's" and "has-to's" to reach there. Is there hope for the Hurried then?

Being a Wild Lavender

2010-07-16T22:01:00.003+05:30

They say distance makes your heart grow fonder. They don’t say what else it does to you. They seldom talk about the helplessness that comes with goodbyes or about the fear that looms before goodbyes. They never talk about the blinding pain and the gripping vacuum that comes with walking back in to your quiet, undisturbed apartment. They never even mention about the empty absoluteness that rocks you through sleepless nights. They don’t care to mention that your heart will long to turn back time or to jump a few years ahead. And why would they mention about the wails and the tears that never reach an others ear, that the white silent walls absorbs them all. Even with millions of people speeding past you, you can feel utter lonesomeness. That cooking each day and every day for no one but yourself will cause you to feel blank now and then. That looking at the world you created has no meaning without a certain few. That this to and fro of being and not is too much for the heart to take. That distance makes your heart grow fonder but it also aches so badly every time the goodbye is said.

We are told these feelings will thaw-out, that out of sight means, at least eventually, out of mind, but what about those that don’t run for cover, to a book, another person or a chore. What about those that can’t seek cover despite the book, another person or a chore. While I think about all this, with a hint of indignation I also wonder why “reality” is not the same as the vacation you take. Why do we give ourselves only chunks of time to live our hearts desires out? Why does it always seem as if the desire to want this one thing keeps you from enjoying anything else?

And just like that perspectives change. I can’t run for cover from my feelings. I long to do it, but I cannot; so I sit with it in the empty room of white and wait for it to disappear or take another shape. It takes the shape of my body. I become aware of it and of my individuality. Unlike a gardener’s flowers that need tending to and careful attention I remember the wild lavenders on the expressways I’ve taken in some parts of the world. Like the wild lavenders, beautiful and free I experience my heart grow bigger and compassionate. I realize that the love of a certain few amplifies your love for yourself. I also remember that every alone-moment gives me the freedom to be more of myself-free from the potter’s hand or by the wheel I was spun in. Distance makes your heart grow fonder and it also aches so badly every time a goodbye is said. But distance also gives you a new lease on life, even if you don’t want it to, right now. Distance gives you a chance to know that life does not have to be lived in a few chucks of time or with the hope that only this desire needs fulfillment.

Intolerable me

2010-06-19T21:24:00.008+05:30

Ever felt you couldn’t tolerate something so much that you were not thinking straight anymore? Ever felt so angry you found yourself doing the most unlikely of things? Or maybe unrequited love drove you bonkers? Or perhaps you were so grief stricken you couldn’t move, let alone think?
Studies on memory and emotions suggests that information that is dramatic or evokes emotional reactions may be a potent source of what is known as mental contamination – a process in which our judgments, emotions, or behavior are influenced by mental processing that is not readily under our control. Specifically, studies suggest that information that evokes emotional reactions may be especially likely to produce mental contamination because emotional reactions are diffuse in nature and tend to trigger thought that is not careful, rational, or analytic. Therefore, one could safely assume that situations that cause emotional reactions, of anger, rage, sadness, disappointment, grief, fear, and so forth, often suggests something about us and how we are feeling. But it is never quite the complete picture.

I’m sure you have been there and felt that. Take, for instance, my situation: when my husband is angry and upset that I have been spending a lot of time at work and that we have been spending lesser and lesser time together as a result, we get ourselves into these fights that don’t make sense. He begins his monologue about how he is the only husband (possibly the only one in India) that allows his wife to do any/everything she wants. And my feministic side blows up! I tell him how I don’t care about him and what he or his race (the male race) think, but that it’s a free world and I will choose to do whatever I please.

Consider this other interesting piece of research on mood congruence effects on memory: when we are in a bad mood we notice and remember negative information. Hence, it is especially during fights like the one I described that, I remember how my husband “always” wants me to be at his beck and call, and serve him like all Indian men do of their wives. I remember how he “never” gets that there’s more to working than just earning money and that we will “always” have a difference of opinion where my work is concerned.

Obviously, mood congruence effect also suggests that when we are in a good mood we often notice and remember positive information about our environment. So when I am all in love, Vasanth, my husband, is the most open minded and wonderful man on earth and I couldn’t have asked for more!

Of course, when Vasanth and I are calmer and more mindful we know for a fact that we indeed couldn’t ask for more. We love each other’s company and enjoy our fights (mostly 30 minutes after) as much as we do our silences. But like the research suggests we are not always connected to our “higher selves” especially when our emotions rattle us.

What might be some things this research can teach us about wellness and emotional wellbeing in our daily lives? Clearly, it goes to say that acting from a place of intolerable emotion can be a dangerous thing. That, it would serve well to connect with our higher self- one that includes our executive brain functioning and not just the limbic system of our brain (which is said to be the emotion center in humans) But how do we that? How do we reduce negative emotions so that we can remember from a balanced place? Here are some things I do and some that psychologists recommend:

1. Learn to sooth and relax yourself: Using your five senses of sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch often allows your heart to beat more slowly and your blood pressure to reduce so that your body no longer feels like it’s in a state of constant emergency of emotion. As a result, it will become easier for your brain to think of healthier ways to cope with your problems too. These activities are meant to bring a small amount of peace in your life so if they don’t help or makes things worse, don’t do it. Try something else. Here are some self soothing activities:

Self Soothing using your Sense of Smell:• Burn scented candles or incense in your room or house. Find a scent that’s pleasing to you
• Bake your own food that has a pleasing smell, like chocolate chip cookies
• Buy fresh-cut flowers or seek out flowers in your neighborhood
• Hug someone whose smell makes you feel calm

Self Soothing using your Sense of Vision• Go through magazines and books to cut out pictures that you like. Make a collage of them to hang up on your wall or keep some of them with you in your handbag or walled to look at when your away from home
• Go to the bookstore and find a collection of photographs or paintings that you find relaxing such as the nature photographs of Ansel Adams. Heres a picture thats on my desktop. Its from a trip to New Zealand with my family. We drove to Glenorchy and it was a beautiful day and we got someone of the best pictures! Choosing something personal is a wonderful idea too!
• Carry a photograph of someone you love, someone you find attractive or someone your admire

Self Soothing using your Sense of Hearing
• Listen to soothing music.
• Listen to books on tape or compact discs.
• Turn on the television and just listen. Find a show that’s boring or sedate, not something that’s just going to get you angry. Make sure you turn the volume down to a level that’s not too loud and just watch it.

Self Soothing using your Sense of Taste• Enjoy your favorite meal, whatever it is. Eat it slowly so you can enjoy the way it tastes.
• Carry lollipops or gum, or other candy with you to eat when you are feeling upset
• Drink something soothing such as tea, coffee or hot chocolate. Practice drinking it slowly so you can enjoy the way it tastes
• Suck on an ice cube or an ice pop, especially if you’re feeling warm and enjoy the taste as it melts in your mouth

Self Soothing using your Sense of Touch
• Carry Something soft or velvety in your pocket to touch when you need to, like a piece of cloth.
• Take a hot or cold shower and enjoy the feelings of the water falling on your skin
• Take a warm bubble bath or a bath with scented oils and enjoy the soothing sensations on your skin.
• Get a massage. If you are uncomfortable with touch you could get a traditional Japanese shiatsu massage or a thai massage that simply require you to wear loose fitting clothes. A shoulder massage can be done without removing your clothes or massage yourself
• Play with your pet.
• Wear your most comfortable clothes like your favorite worn-in T-Shirt, baggy sweat suit or old jeans.

2. I often remind myself that I am my emotions, thoughts, feelings, and behavior -all put together and more. So it’s never just one emotion that defines me, or one logical thought.

3. I act out my emotions in a safe space; typically around people who realize # 2 about themselves and me. When its fights with my husband, I retort back but we both also take a break from each other while I talk to a friend, sibling or a parent.

4. I practice patience with myself. I remind myself that I am limited by my emotion/logic right now and I take the time and space to see a bigger picture. Here are some things I normally do to tolerate my distress:
• Practice yoga
• Go for a walk on a treadmill or around a jogging track
• Take a bath
• Practice breathing meditations or pranayama
• Go on to my terrace and watch the city in silence
• Cry
• Talk to a friend
• Write
• Go to a spa
• Take a break and visit my parents
• Chat with my sister
• Practice Reiki
• Read fiction novels

Try some new self-soothing techniques. Making them a part of your everyday life increases the chances that you can practice it with ease when you are feeling overwhelming emotions. Allow yourself an opportunity to experience wellness every day. What are some things you do? What self soothing activity would you like to try from the list above? Add more to the list as well!

Reference:
Matthew Mc Kay, Jeffery C. Wood and Jeffrey Brantley: The DBT Skills Workbook
Baron: Psychology

The Emotional Side of Getting Pregnant: The Infertility Experience

2010-06-17T20:16:00.002+05:30

Shraddha was in tears. She had got her period again. Unable to hold herself anymore she closed the lid of the toilet seat, sat down on it and wept. Voices and images raced in her head, her mother’s “I can’t wait from my grandchild!”, her husband’s “Don’t think about it, it will happen”, her friends’ uncomfortable silences and her own dismal truth experienced every day had become painful. She tested her body temperature each morning, noting for daily changes. She was diligently noting events such as sexual intercourse, sleepless nights, and sickness. She peed every other week in a cup to test for ovulation. “Prolactin testing, serum testing, thyroid testing”, the voices wouldn’t cease and worse still she knew “testing” was set to become more and more invasive with “post-coital testing”, laparoscopy and every other thing in the loom. A cloud of confusion sat on Sraddha’s head as she began to wipe her tears away. She was at once angry, frustrated, sad, dejected, annoyed, worried, powerless, and cheated. A wave of fatigue swept through her and she felt numb again.

Shraddha is just one among many women and men struggling to make sense of infertility. The text book definition of infertility is “the inability to achieve a viable pregnancy after 12 months of regular, unprotected sexual intercourse”. According to WHO estimates 8-10% of couples experience the frustration of infertility at some point in their relationship. They also indicate that the incidence is equal among both men and women, which means it’s never just the woman’s or man’s fault, like our society often makes it out to be.

Infertility and our Society
India is possibly the most difficult country to live in with infertility. Well, it may seem like that at least. With families trying to hide the fact that their son or daughter is infertile to marriages ending on the grounds of infertility, we are a culture where one might give up their lives sooner than acknowledge that infertility is in question.

We begin our marriages with blessings from our elders to beget many children; we are often reminded of the same every time we pay our respects to them. “May you be blessed with a son, just like mine” says the mother-in-law. Relatives seem to insist “Your biological clock is ticking”, friends ask “are you family planning?” Parents seem to wonder “when am I going to be a grandparent?” Why, one of the many standard job interview questions seems to be “do you have children?” At this rate, I’ll bet you (obviously because research, work and experience shows) that no couple is comfortable making love with questions like this circling their head.

Unfortunately, in a country like ours, where a high premium is placed on family, the stigma that comes with infertility weighs heavily upon women like Shraddha. Moreover, our own thoughts, fuelled by myths, plague us “I shouldn’t have taken birth control for so long”, “its Gods punishment for my abortion”, “that’s just how my fate is”, and “this is because I didn’t want to have children when I was younger” comes back to us in our most vulnerable states.

“I am all tied up in knots and can’t think straight”: Infertility and the Biopsychosocial Impact

Research has reported high incidence of anxiety and depression among couples who are infertile and/or trying fertility treatments to get pregnant. “Finding out the problem” can cause immense emotional upheaval in itself. Like Shraddha, just beginning the process of finding out why a couple can’t get pregnant can be more that just frustrating. Couples often experience a roller coaster of emotions, ranging from anger, frustration, and sadness to guilt, shame, stigmatization, loneliness, jealously, loss, grief and helplessness. Couples report feeling exploited by their doctors who initiate new procedures on them, worse still is the experience of many couples who feel rushed or discouraged to ask their doctor questions about different tests, what is to come and what needs to be done. Frustration and anger toward professionals is also a common experience of couples whose treatment fails at one phase or another.

From focusing on life in general with responsibilities of work, love and leisure couples suddenly find themselves overloaded by the” role of an infertile adult”. With weekly visits to the hospital, to noting daily changes of body temperature, time of sex and so forth couples are often reminded of their inadequacy as an adult. The stress of figuring out time and money for fertility treatments weigh heavily on couples.

The marital effects that the infertility experience brings with it are immense. Coping with stress is unique to individuals and often times, when one couple focuses on issues in a solution-focused way the other couple is emotionally focused on the issue. Like Shraddha, many woman choose to get scrutinized first (medical tests and the like) than going at it together as a couple. Often times, one partner may be more ready than the other to name the elephant in the room. Moreover, at some point, what once was perceived an enjoyable sexual experience becomes more and more uncomfortable because what was once making love, is now a goal oriented exercise. The dynamics that couples create between one another either make it extremely easy to deal with the pain or extremely hard to deal with the pain that comes with getting pregnant. Many times it is the latter that happens. Studies show that couples who are able to name the elephant in the room and work together towards a personal goal, they become more intimate in their marriage than before.

Because of the role overload and the immense stress, couples find themselves slowly withdrawing from social support the once enjoyed. While friends don’t know what to say, relatives say too much. Studies have shown that often couples perceive that the support that they get from their friends and family as limited.

From being a biological upheaval to an emotional one there is much to be considered when couples come to this place of getting pregnant. Appraising the situation as a biological issue does not mean it is not an emotional process. The experience of infertility is a very private and emotional one. From starting on getting tested to deciding on IUIs, IVFs, adoption or donor programs-stress only gets built more and more. Hence, acknowledging the biopsychosocial impact of infertility is key to a healthy coping process, what that simply means in the words of one of my clients is “it’s ok to feel like you are a mess right now”. Seeking a counselor who is able to support the couple with the emotional upheaval experienced due to infertility can be extremely beneficial while one is on the road to becoming a parent.

Stages of Grief

2010-06-11T14:47:00.001+05:30

It feels like mayhem, this hurt that I am experiencing.
While others’ thoughts are clear like crystal, mine confuse me.
Is this how loss is felt, I wonder.
I think back on how loss tastes, how it feels and how it torments
I realize the familiar ache.
I want to be rescued; I want to be safe,
I want to be undisturbed and uninvolved with pain.

Difficult dialogues plague my mind,
‘What if’s’ stay afloat like oil on water.
Anger empowers me only to loosen its hold way too soon
I suddenly remember the stages of grief.

My heart beats louder and harder when I think about everything that lead to now.
I want to give up on the fight and retract into my cocoon.
I hate the cocoon; it makes me feel uncomfortable to say the least.
I am so indignant I don’t want to accept the cocoon.
I want to know why, I want to be heard, I want to push, I want to roar.
But then again, is there any point to all that noise,
I want to say there is, but I am not so sure anymore.
It’s not the same anymore, it probably never was.

I am rendered to look at my own heart
I want to tend to it, I want to attend
I want to give it hope and a bit of reassurance.
I should let it wallow, so I mope and grieve
I become entangled in the voices and spiral down, again.

I am responsible for my actions and the decisions are made
I can foresee that I must collect my bearings and set sail,
On a fresh start that tends to my heart and to my life.
I carry the pangs of loss;
Like a sore scar on my chest I feel it, when it’s nudged.
I am moving on, I am moving on
I will listen to the wind and cast my sail in the direction
But I can’t promise on not making a mistake.

Facing forward, looking back

2010-05-02T18:57:00.000+05:30

My heart skips a beat. It’ll be a whole year, on the 4th of June 2010, since I came back from a three year long life in New York. I am a restless spirit, often finding new things that interests me, that keeps me alive, that moves me and that teaches me a thing or more about life and myself. I do tons to quench the restlessness and I enjoy it all in its bits, pieces and whole. And I reckon I have moments when my throat gets parched again. Not to do more but to steer in a direction that is once again mine. I feel this parched throat now; this feeling that I may be steering in a direction that is not mine. Not running away/ahead and instead looking back helps. And this is my attempt. Here’s 30 things I’ve learnt in this year (and possibly will keep relearning)-with work, family and life:

1. Love your work because satisfaction can take you a long way, and when you decide you need to get paid a lot more someone will recognize it and possibly pay for it.

2. Don’t take anybody for face value-it’s a good thing.

3. The brain stores transitory images for a few seconds-iconic memory, which is why everything appears as a continuum.

4. Everyone is vulnerable.

5. Children are wonderful! Even the rascals. They love metaphors as much as I do!

6. Anecdote: Watch your breath without changing it in anyway. Don’t change it, just watch it. Impossible right? The mere effort of watching your breath changes the quality of it. Similar are our emotions. Just acknowledging it changes it (Diana- during her classes).

7. Dysfunction rests in relationships- thank you Monica McGoldrick.

8. Boundaries and limits to what you can and cannot do; what others can and cannot do in a relationship with you, makes life easy.

9. Multitasking is one heck of a skill. Hone it really well.

10. Have a bible for your profession? Learn it well. One of mine is the DSM IV TR.

11. Find a sounding board-a friend, colleague and/or supervisor who will be there for you when the going gets really sticky and otherwise too.

12. Keep generating ideas for the future, write it down somewhere, share it with someone and get working on it while you stay focused on what you are already doing-ah, multitasking yea? Yes, but also is a way to nurture your creativity, motivation and enthusiasm for life and work.

13. Focus on your marriage, part I, just because you are married to the love of your life doesn’t mean everything will work out, you have to work with it/in it, to work it out.

14. Focus on your marriage, part II, if you don’t then you’ll have a tantrum throwing husband who will set you straight.

15. Stay in touch with your family, go visit them, get pampered, rejuvenated and ready to come back to life. Like my father says, automobiles go back to their original showroom service station to get serviced to be as good as brand new for the next few months/years until it’s time for the next free servicing. Same are humans, so go back to your service stations once in a while to take a break/rejuvenate. ( Service station = Social support )

16. Give your husband a boys night out, at least the TV is all yours then.

17. Check in with yourself every once in a while. What’s going on? How are you feeling? What is the pattern with this fight and every other fight with your husband/mother/whoever? What is the reason for running forward/ahead of yourself? What would your therapist say? What is another perspective to this situation? Do you really like cricket or are you just pretending to like the T20 series for your husband’s sake, if yes, how long can you tolerate watching it?

18. If you and your husband are alike, chances are you won’t know what to do for fun on weekends and will end up, for many weekends, just hanging out at home lazing or going on a drive to see how the construction of your new home is coming. That’s fun! But better pray things will change as you age together. So yes, this is perhaps part III of focus on your marriage. Be creative and explore new things together!

19. It’s awesome to wake up to mornings when you get good morning kisses from your husband.

20. Backpacks are awesome to carry to work (not the best style statement, but whatever). At least it’s just one bag as opposed to a hand bag, a laptop bag, a gym bag and sometimes a lunch box and water-wait, I knew this in grad school too. Well, haven’t you heard, you keep making a mistake till you learn something out of it.

21. Where you live on the outside doesn’t matter as much as where you live on the inside. Yet, I can’t wait to start living in our brand new home!

22. I am a cheerleader for cupid. Love is so magical!

23. Advertising over the internet rocks for your (my) business, but consistent outreach and marketing takes you a long way. Time to implement now.

24. Iphone has changed the quality of my telephone life.

25. Traffic in India has a life of its own, keeping your life on your sleeve and driving is contrary to Indian traffic rules. You’ve got to brave up before you face the music that is Indian roads.

26. Stay in touch with the good friends you made everywhere- make plans to visit them, have them visit you, talk to them every once in a while- what do you think skype, gchat, and all is for!

27. Gradually expand the quality of your life-with work and otherwise.

28. Slow down enough to appreciate another’s perspective once in a while.

29. Stay interested in looking good!

30. Be ok with those down days (at least in retrospect)-everyone has them, and everyone needs one.

Goodbye Tatha

2010-03-31T14:30:00.000+05:30

He always played the crocodile while I was the monkey that sat high on a tree and was real clever. Maybe we played the game because it was straight forward, playable; or maybe I learnt from it that I was smart, witty and clever. Every time I outsmarted the crocodile he would smile at me with pride and playfulness and then I would believe that I really was cool. When I look at his picture on my desktop today, I can't believe that he really is gone, but my gandpa is really gone. I even touched him and tried waking him up to make sure he was not just asleep. He was stone as ice and I knew he was gone indeed.

I was the first grandchild of the family so I got lucky, I got the most of him, you see. His love was special for, I am not sure he ever had the time for the rest of my siblings. We travelled in trains, ambassadors and tata estates and we lived in a palace. I would cook up stories of being richer and more famous at school and I think I thought we were indeed all that. When we moved in to the palace of a home, he had made me a room that was especially for me- my study room. He had put a blackboard in there for me and the first two words we wrote on a still wet board were "srinivasan" and "aarathi". Even today I dream of that home, my study room and playing with granpa.

He flew to London, Singapore and everywhere and I would wait eagerly for him to come back with my gifts. He had an eye for fashion, my granpa. He would buy me short skirts when I was still shy to show my legs off. I was the first one at school to wear that fashionable shirt that would knot at my waist. I do think sometimes he thought I was skinner than I looked because some clothes just wouldn't fit. I remember a time when he had jaundice and was all yellow. I wanted to see him but he was always in that room of his drinking yellow milk. He was surrounded by newspapers and business magazines on weekends and his office space was no different. He would reward me and my siblings with “killu mutha” literally the “pinch kiss” when he came home from a long days work. He had a knack for rhyming our names with funny things and I was christened “aarat raja thangam” and “aarat, carrot, beetroot”.
He was my mom’s father-replacement and my dad’s boss father. He was quite the fighter with my granma and they lived many years separated from each other. I remember the first time I witnessed a fight he had with my granma and I remember my heart freezing in fright. There was so much function and dysfunction, I cannot help but be awed by human nature.

Our family is a representation of this wonderful and flawed man. I am a representation of this wonderful and flawed man. I am workaholic almost like him. I strive to attain mastery over what I know in work, I can’t imagine losing it all and often fear I would become heartbroken like him if I did. It’s easy to run like him, away from family’s love and towards work. His grandchildren and children alike, shake their legs with incomprehensible speed, when restless. Our knack for wit, his gift again.

Sadly, as years flew by he moved further and further away from us. He moved back to the village he was born in. He moved closer to his roots, I think. I chose to stop thinking about him and maybe he did the same thing back or maybe not. I am not sure I understand his motive when he built and christened “humanity home” and moved there to live with scores of children that were not his family, but then again, I am not sure I understand my granpa entirely.

When he died, there were a spectrum of people that came that day . His brothers, his nephews, his nieces and his workers, his sons, daughter-in-laws, uncles and aunts, his grandchildren , his wife and everyone else were present. He was all this and more and it made me happy that he was not just a granpa or a workaholic. Today, March 31st 2010, marks 10 days of his departure. I am not sure where he is and I am not sure if he is with us. But I have few pictures of him, his genetic inheritance too and a few of his oddities that make his family unique. Best of all ofcourse is that I have my dad, his son, you see. My granpa leaves me behind thankful for his life and grateful for mine.

I love you tatha.

Chance memories

2009-09-02T10:40:00.000+05:30

My heart squeezed out regret. I was forgetting, and I hated that. The rustic feel of the cobbled stone path, the color of snow on the dirty streets, the train that would take me crosstown,the smell of the noisy & breathtaking downtown and the taste of my salad bowl with balsamic vinagratte dressing-my memories of then were slowly retracting, bidding me adieu. I beckon my mind to stop. Stop taking my details away. Stop telling me I have no control over the fading details anymore. I shrug and I sigh, I cry and I demand but the details of the past turn into a glob of feelings- of regret, joy, happiness, passion, anger, loss, heartache, love and now a distant reminiscence that I sleep with. My everyday friends, collegues, acquaintances seem so far away portending that I may not experience them in the same way I did while I spent time with them like it would be this forever.

As I struggled with my glob of feelings, the sun came streaming in through the venetian blinds and warmed the cold bed I shuffled in. It was such a welcoming moment, this warm sun proposing a brand new day, it held promises of perfection, of embracing the right now-the dew filled lawn invited me to bare my feet across the patch, a long mindful yoga practice under the blissful bright morning called forth, a cup of grace in coffee and the love of the man I am soul mates with was the icing on the cake. The day had the perfect mix of joy and contentment- ingredients of a perfect weekend. And I remembered my Someone, who once told me that knowing what you want from life's small events was far more functionally precious than knowing what you didn't. I decided to carry my memory glob along but also wanted to make my functionally precious events unwind.

And so I woke up and kissed my sleeping husband's half smiling lips and went out to the backyard he had carefully mowed the day before. The smell of a freshly mowed lawn on a wonderfully warm morning was a delight to my senses. Do you have moments of perfection that are so overwhelming you'd rather call them "just-another moment-of-the-mundane-passing", so that you can just go on living like a "regular" person? I have many moments like that and I wasnt going to leave this one to be one such, it was the weekend after all. I sat down on the porch and took the grand intoxicating mundane in. A lazy morning has such a potential to be therapeutic even in spite of how our minds jump from thing to thing and a chore to another. I let go of my lists each time they appeared in my minds eye. 'Laundry, groceries, email, facebook, memory glob" all of it came up to my conscious mind and all of it moved to the back of it in its own time as I sat there, and I sat. My yoga practice always had its own colors and motions. Today was slow and graceful. I took my time with every asana and every breath. Staying present in my movement, I was learning to move into stillness. With Ramm Dass's Hanuman Chalisa in the background I was grateful, for the strength, courage and compassion in my life today. As my cup of coffee was freshly brewed and served I sat with my husband and let the slow morning take its own accord. It was then that I knew, my heart would squeeze out regret as naturally as it does gratitude. My fears of a future and of a dying past would wash through me and I can let that be, not ignore but let be.

The splinters of an unbreakable glass...

2009-05-16T19:32:00.000+05:30

I couldn't breathe. A huge chimerian boulder sat on my chest. I gasped for air and wondered what it was about. Ive suffered many physical shortcomings and instantly diagnosing it hasn't ever been trouble. But this was something else. My rational mind had surfaced, to protect me from it. "Life is about moving on, we live fully if we can take things in our stride and head on" it said to me. So,I sat there, watching the landscape pass me by. It seemed rather perfect, moving-on in a moving train, speeding across a splendid landscape. Only getting a glimpse of the beauty it held, I was able to train my mind to skim just the surface. I prayed the train wouldn't stop.

Squirming, I hoped the boulder would move. "take a breath, breathe deeply and you'll be fine" my insane rational mind told me. I squirmed a little more as tears began to well. I was gripped with breathlessness, i couldnt breathe, i couldnt breathe with this sharp pain stabbing at my chest. Its easier to cry with physical pain you see. But ofcourse, it was then that the part of me that wanted to cry found its release regardless of reason. It was as if the train had stopped. I was pulled into the midst of this world whose periphery I had only caressed. My physical pain found new layers. Sadness, and angst flooded my chest melting the boulder. "not the best thing to happen" cried my rationale that had been pleading for ever so long to just stay above the surface. I could only smile. Smile for the Chimera had transformed into a beautiful child. A child that needed comfort. A child that had spent several sad moments like this and had only learned to take the train and flee.

Why, I do thank my protective rationale. Without it I may just as well be a broken glass, sending splinters across the road i lay, but I thank the vulnerability that is present in every part of my pore as well. For without it, I wouldn't have noticed this crying child in the costume of a Chimera. I carry her with me, this child. I am her and she is me. We smile and cry as we move on in this train that thinks it can take us and leave this never ending landscape of love, joy, regret, sadness and agony. Ha!

A Few Haphazard Musings...

2009-04-28T08:06:00.000+05:30

I ponder, not because I have nothing else to do but because I have so much to do...

Our memories-our vice and our virtue. How do we learn without it and yet how can we learn with it?

Our lives, this motionfilm of endless pursuits..familiar, and yet, I jump at every apparently difficult turn. What holds our fears? the Amygdala?

There is a certain curiosity about this thing we call perspective. Everything changes based on what lens you see through. why is that?

How often do we live in dichotomies? Isn't it a rare aspect to be accepting of it (the dichotomies) to move beyond it?

The search for a definite answer will never end, will it?

Come wonder with me, what are your random questions?

Letting go

2009-03-30T23:33:00.000+05:30

The soft wind teased her tresses to play with his face as they walked close to one another by the shore, their very own turquoise backyard. 'It still works!' he thought as he let her soft hair tickle his anger and bring a smile back to his minds eye. He glibly brought his little finger to hook in with hers and it was her turn. Facing him, she smiled with her eyes and that's all they needed to quench this burning fury into roars of laughter. Letting go had become that simple.

No, letting go was not simple. It needed practice. The wheels of identity often needed oiling from the rust of habit, ownership and personal propriety that they had learn to nurture all their single lives. Is there room for more? implored the heart but the monkey mind with all its memories of life's hurt, its lows and tugs did not want to give. Clouded in this smoke of illusion, to increase pleasure and avoid pain the mind lost any logic between what caused pain and what pleasure. Their loving heart could discern if only it could find a way to unshackle itself from the tyranny of a restless mind and an overpowering ego.

He took her hand into his with new and inspired courage and placed it at his heart. Willing the heart to choose once again. To give space for one more. Becoming one was not simple and yet it was not a task that could be worked upon. Love, yes, love was supreme and it could fill the ocean they stood there watching. But did this love also have courage, peace, kindness, compassion, individuality, strength all encompassed within it? What they knew was that their love was slowly learning to be this encompassing.

The messages from the world around didn't matter when they were standing here alone and together. But the messages of the world was within them nonetheless.'What would it be like to shed the armor of safety, my love? what am I afraid of?' She asked him without having to speak. As they stood there watching the sun dip into the ocean blue leaving a crimson sky and a soothing moon behind, he kissed her on her forehead sealing a promise of everlasting discoveries in this lap of love their shared.

An Open Letter to the City of New York

2009-03-11T17:01:00.000+05:30

Aarathi Selvan
A three year Manhattan Resident
NY, NY 10027

March 11th, 2009

The "Greatest City in the world"
The City of New York
NY, NY

Dear New York City,

I have never once doubted that a city has a character of its own. You my dear, certainly have one and as i sit today wondering about my future, my musings are interrupted by my thoughts about you. You certainly know how to captivate your audience and turn us into wonder struck addicts. Your tall skyscrapers, your lady liberty, your Chrysler towers, your times square and of course the Empire State all of it makes heads turn and hearts skip a beat. When I sit in one of your theaters and watch yet another protagonist walk down the same avenue I did last night, I smile a wide mouthed smile and wonder what it is about you that enthralls so many to come see you at least once before they decide they love you or cant stand you another second. But that's not why I write. I am not an expert on locations, cross streets and such. My love for you is, for the most part, a result of the learning and experience you've inspired. So, what is your character? What do you inspire? Why you?

Truth be said, Ive seen too many people here, walking on the streets holding their tears unable to find ways around their lives. I've found myself in conversations with mothers on the bus, telling me stories about discrimination and their hard bought immigrant lives in the city. I've seen people walk by scraping shoulders against an other's not realizing they weren't ghosts in this vacuum that is your lap. I've been a part of masses of people succumbing into the quagmire that is beyond their bodies and into a world of mind chatter, to do lists, and profound materialism. With cursory catch-ups and floating hellos you can seem like a cold cold city to live in, especially in winters. The word on the street is that every other person who calls you home is an immigrant from another town, city, state, country or continent. You are a microcosm of the world, but a time-encapsulated one actually, for I hear how longings of the immigrant hearts calls out to worlds that have already passed.

You overwhelm the new, overwork those who have been here long. Your subways overcrowd with people and rodents alike! you hold life's irony atop your head and walk the tight rope of angst for us all. But all this is what makes you real, does is not?

I am wrung wide awake from my slumber each night, by the blaring ambulance speeding across your streets, making the knots in my stomach and the lock in my jaw the focus for the rest of my night. The early morning noises in your street add to the anxiety that is already my life. Quite consistently through this noise, you remind me to watch my body and these knots. Do I thank you or blame you? Did you cause this or are you helping me ease this tension? Both and neither, i'll bet. But that's what makes you real. You strip off our cocoons and make us look within, or at least attempt to. You suck us into this vortex of energy, impatience, restlessness, speed-walking and breathlessness. You pound our heads again and again to look within the depths of our hearts and within the paradise of central park, to find some balance. You bring spring and summers to slow us down and lay out chairs on patios and decks of restaurants that abound your ground. The plethora that is you, wont cease to exist and yet, you demand that we be sane in order to persist? Have you completely lost it? or have I?

New York, New York! will I miss you when I leave? A phase of life now completes and as I move I will surely reminisce. The noise, the paradise, the restless inadequacy and the filthy prosperity. Living alone,carving out a selfhood while at the same time making sure I don't fall off this trapeze, swinging between worlds-inward and outward. Yes, I will miss this, like I miss most things that pass. But there is a time for everything and now is my time to move on. As you've successfully taught, I desire to slow down and be the eye of the tornado than stay caught in your whirlpool and mine.

You are quiet? Yes, I get the message. You will carelessly move on without professing your love for me. You will take two more for one little me who leaves to learn more. That's what cities do, do they not? But now as another city beckons me to bring my fingerprint to its identity, I know you'll do the same for those who yearn to experience the tornado that is you. And of course as I leave I take a part of you that has become me forever and ever.

Thank you for your fabulousness.

Yours truly,
Aarathi Selvan

A morphing home

2009-01-13T04:01:00.000+05:30

Where is home really? Reminds me of the quintessential "Cheers" theme song. Yes, I have deeply yearned for home, a place where everybody knows my name and my first trip away from home, across many oceans encapsulates this painful experience. But today as I write I wonder what and where home might be.

When I left this seemingly obvious home, I was a daughter, a sister and a student mostly. But Ive grown to embrace myself as a wife, a teacher, a therapist, a spiritual aspirant, a fighter, a student, a volunteer, a friend, a colleague and above all an individual and now, I am not sure where home might be.

Does who you are often change where home may be?

Well, Where is home really? Is it a place where you come back to, watch tv, eat your sundae, do laundry, read, and sleep? or is it a place where you are welcomed by an other who loves you, who cherishes your presence, who converses with you and who accepts you for the many things you are and you are not? Or, is home a space you come to and feel like you were already there? you were home when you were waiting for the bus, you were home when you were sitting with your friend, you were home speaking your truth with a crazy kid in your class. You were home and are home every where you go. Could that be?

But how can it be true when I am standing in the subway waiting for the doggone "A" train to get to the station so i can get to my apartment or when I cannot sit any longer in this cubicle I call my workspace? How can I persist day after day when all my mind calls out for is, home. I do come home only to invoke the same pleading mind "I want to be home, I want to be home".

As I find myself moving from apartment to apartment, country to another, and friend to friend the only thing that seems ever so constant is Me. I take my thoughts, emotions and sensations with Me. I take my mind with Me, and my body comes along. It would seems then that, I live in a home made up of these things first, wouldnt it?

The truth behind it is simple and this morphing sense of home is always a good thing. Apparently. Moving beyond the noises in the head, these many several expectations and appalling reservations is when one finds home, I am told. So where do I go from here? Do i even go?

A time for tears

2008-12-01T06:15:00.000+05:30

A difficult task to maneuver indeed-holding an alight candle, braving the freezing weather and the violent wind, straightening my legs from trembling, trying hard to ignore the acute pain in the small of my back and wiping away my incessant tears. I stand at the candle light vigil and listen to the voices of people who have the strength to speak at a time like this. Some have lost their loved one's in the tragedy, some other's are survivors of survivors, and the remaining were people overcome by grief at this large scale destruction that the Bombay's terror attacks caused.

Away from all things familiar, I stand with a crowd of Indians at Columbia U and the familiarity of sorrow invokes it. I cry. My incessant tears are adamant, they have a life of their own really, and I welcome the relief. I realize, this is my space for grief and my way with it is through my tears. Yes, we will act. Yes, we will be indignant. We will wonder where this is all going and we will demonstrate compassion and camaraderie. Now however, I need to cry, I need to express my grief. I need to acknowledge that before I turn my grief into anger, courage and commitment I am struck by the ruthlessness with which lives were seized away. I am struck by the void that I feel as I empty my heart out.

I like the tears
That flow from the depth
Of my helpless despair.
I love the tears
That flow from the depth
Of my dawning aspiration.
I adore the tears
That flow from the depth
Of my Liberation-sea.

By: Sri Chinmoy

Taking home with me

2008-10-10T10:03:00.000+05:30

I sit on the porch at the front of my great grandmother's house in the village where my mother grew up. Staring at the intricate and multicolored Kolam my grandmother made this morning with rice flour and turmeric, I wonder where this is all going. My search for the woman I am today has taken a long, exhausting route. Yet,running amok between the chores of the summer and the stories i heard during its warm nights, I learned how my mother was a reflection of this life I had come to love. Severed from her as a newborn I found her love waiting for me in her village, in the arms of her loved ones and finally in myself.

Stepping into the heart of this home I saw no patriarchal or matriarchal head. There was an assumed air of Being where one could just as easily transform into her masculine persona or her feminine one. Strength was defined by what was needed moment by moment and the actual men were quiet souls living as partners with their women. It was frightening because this home was an island deeply removed from the life i knew so far. This village embodied the home i had come to live in this one summer but outside of here was a world I already knew. I came in here, a wounded soldier, deprived of love, safety and identity. Like my grandmother,I had learned to conjure the tough part of me when I was broken,but unlike her, I had never learned to carry it under my skin, like it was me.

My grandmother, this strong beautiful woman lost her husband when she was thirty six. To stand for herself and her children was a necessity than a choice really, but it eventually shaped her into a fiercely independent woman.She will give even if she doesn't have enough for herself and at the same time she knows where to draw the line. I have never been able to see through that strong exterior as a child. But walking as we did a few evenings ago, on the shores of Cuddalor, I saw a different woman. It seemed that the Tsunami that hit her town three years ago triggered it all and that hard exterior had been scraped away and the soreness of the raw pain became available for me to dip in. She quickly took the place of a mother, i truly yearned for. Why do we take lifetimes to understand the ones we love?

My great grandmother on the other hand was not maternal. Boisterous, loud and threatening she certainly was. When I asked her about the Tsunami and what it had done to people around her she shrugged and said that it was about time we love the present for what is. She was refreshingly bold and I wondered if it would take me longer to really know her. But instantaneously i saw the bond this mother-daughter duo shared. They were the yin and yang, supporting and mirroring what was not really on the surface of the other.

Our trips to the temple every evening to listen to the beautiful Vasantha raga played by our lovely Geetha enchanted me. Our daily morning sessions to teach me all about Pulli Kolam perplexed me. But I knew that even the painful process of washing clothes by the stone especially built for the purpose or drying rice crispy's on the verandah out front were all initiations to welcome me into a family I yearned to be a part of. Words dont say it with the same power as small acts of love does, and in time, I was one with everything and everyone around me.

I had come upon a sisterhood this summer and in the midst of it all I found myself. The healing I needed and deprived myself of until now found its way through the crevices of my heart. I began to see life's drama unfold and saw the beauty in it for once. There is magic amidst a group of women who love unconditionally and I found myself led into this sorority. My great grandmothers perfect rejection of all things sorrowful and her acute ability to see that shining layer of contentment in it all helped me manifold. She told me that life was after all lived over time and that sorrows were a mere result of this long life, just as much as joy was. The deep acceptance of this verity shone upon me each day this summer. The presence of perfection in the midst of a world I knew made everything that much better.

While staring at the kolam and watching the rooster conduct its proud walk across from me, the fear of departing gripped my heart and squeezed my insides. I allowed a drop of tear find its way to sides of my mouth. As I hear my great grandmother yell at her youngest sister to start her chores with the laundry and cleaning, I laugh at the reality that I am forced to see. I resolve to take this safe place with me, in my heart and my being. I realize that reality is a lived experience, strangely, different for everyone. My great grandmother would like it if I would just give up this search for who I am and just go on Being instead. And while thats exactly what I seek for myself, for now, I feel like a better woman and a better human being, for seeking out and sharing a part of me with these women who defined my mother and shaped me by their Being.

Noisy Silence

2008-09-22T19:08:00.000+05:30

She dimmed the lights, warmed her hands with her cup of cocoa and walked to her most comfortable couch in the house. She settled down, down into the low couch feeling as always, as if she was going into her sheltered cocoon. She sighed deeply and looked on the outside sensing a deep sense of gratitude for the momentary quietude everyone around acknowledged and left her with.

Her toes began to feel icy reminding her that she left her throw on the couch by the tv last night, she sighed again, this time irate that moments like these are never as perfect as her novels say they might be.

Placing her cocoa by the couch she runs to fetch her throw, she comes back to her couch hoping to begin anew. She settles down into her couch again and stretches her feet on the ottoman she'd come to love. She remembered the day her husband brought it in and the dread with which she looked at it. It was a complete mismatch to the decor of the house, it stood out like a sore toe, and each time she came in to her parlor she had to avert her eyes and learn the art of selective attention until the day she began to associate the ottoman with her love for her dearest she missed so deeply.

She pulled her mind away from her feet and her thoughts. Taking a sip of the steaming cocoa she burnt her tongue and groaned at her fate. Placing the cup far away from herself,as an act of revolt against spoilers like this, she accepted with consternation that her life was essentially rigged and that no amount of reading or watching idealistic movies can ever fix that.

With that acceptance, she finally began to unwind as well as she knew how. She felt the ache around the muscles of her shoulders and her back and wondered what these muscles were called. While making a mental note to google that, she silently scowled at her million different diversions and she brought herself back to the ache she was feeling, she tried to visualize the pain turn into vapor and suddenly remembered that her friend, the scientist, might ridicule her for visualizing pain as vapor but then she knew that it worked for her to visualize, fantasize and will her pain away. This time around she smiled at her thought and found comfort in the diversion as well. She thought about her friends.

Summoning memories to the fore has always been a bitter sweet process; for, along with heartfelt happiness also came the sense of loss she didn't care to think about just yet. Memories have this enormous ability to bring upon us reality checks we cant seem to handle and at the same time they are so deeply tainted by our feelings about events that we do recall. She wondered if we ever truly Know.

The susurrus of her mind never seemed to cease, she pleaded with her mind to stop and immediately plunged, helplessly, into it to ponder out loud if she was really free, if freedom was nothing but an illusion. Her thoughts ran wild, what was love, what of the loneliness that came creeping in every now and then, what of the future. She grew so knotted in her thoughts that her body seemed to knot along, her shoulders tightened and her toes froze despite the warm throw she covered herself with, her cocoa had become cold enough to gulp down.

Unable to appreciate the quiet on the outside she stood up, changed into her running shoes and decided instead to enjoy the warm day outside, hoping that running hard enough might silence her mind atleast this once.

The Great Indian Love

2008-09-15T02:58:00.000+05:30

Bomb blasts in Delhi, yet again. This time it was five bloody blasts. The newspapers are ranting about the incompetence of Indian police. Authors of many books are furious at the Indian government that only found vital 'clues', the day after. The chai wala out front has hung newspapers with pictures of the blast splashed all over the front page, in at least 4 different languages (depending on where you live), and his everyday customers who keep a tab with him talk about how they had postponed their plans of shopping for Dussera at Connaught Place just yesterday. Meanwhile families who lost their loved ones have not fully acknowledged that they would never see their son, daughter or mother again. The common man however moves on.

The daily life of many is such. We move through the contours of terror, alarm, panic, scourge, poverty, distress and trepidation with the calm of a saint. We walk the narrow streets of the city with people from myriad states, speaking several tongues, and wearing different attires and often we'll ram into each of them unconditionally. We as a people dawn a smile in our heads and a frown on our faces; thats how we begin our day and that's how we wait for the next. Thinking back now, it comes as no surprise that I found myself often surprised, disturbed even, when people flashed smiles at me and looked straight into my eyes when I first got to Rochester's suburbia where my aunt lives. I'm told the people in the South are especially sacrine and chatty but New York is the place for me really. I am comfortable, thanks to previous practice, with the frowns and the busyness that uniformly masks faces here. I like to believe that like back home these faces have a smile behind them that comes with no expectation of yanking out those shiny 32 or so behind each lip.

At the same time, theres more to home than New York can offer, for me that is. Take for instance the overnight train journey. We squeeze into an already full compartment of a train to let a mother lay her sleeping infant down on the seat while also gladly making room for an elderly couple to sit together despite their seats being two coaches apart. We let our neighbor put his leg on our seat while we place ours right next to his and you want to know what the icing on the cake is? we would have gone through this entire transaction without exchanging any words! Whats more, we share our dinner with them and we become one big family with our very own make do annoying younger cousin, lecturing uncles, gossipy aunties and snoring grandparents. We also make it a point to take their luggage out for them and bid goodbyes. And finally we hold them in the stories we narrate to our real cousins, uncles, aunts and grandparents.

If you go back a little to the meandering streets I was talking about, you can easily find me, or your mum, your sister or even my friends, yelling in hindi with a colorful brand of additional urdu cruses (if you are a Hyderabadi that is), at the autorickshaw driver who thinks he can take us on a trip with all his "meter rate badh gaya memsahib" stories. Soon, you'll find one of us moving along within minutes to begging/bargaining with the vendor of a store and seconds after find us laughing and tugging away at people only to walk into another store to once again begin yet another dynamic interaction with yet another stubborn vendor with a "fixed rate" board hanging above his cashiers desk. And at each end, the vendors as well as the autorickshaw driver would have gone along with a frown that soon changed its direction or with a knowing smirk or even a nod at the predictability of their customers. There is a sense of belongingness that comes with knowing a language you can curse in, understanding inside jokes, humming the songs you can sing along, knowing that it is just as well that you dont know if Dussera was the coming home of Lord Ram or the celebration of the powerful Goddess Durga, you celebrate it with the same gusto and love as you would if you knew what it truly was for.

Its no wonder why, over time I've begun to truly believe that, there may be platonic love, sibling love, soul love and what ever else but, there definitely is what I'd call the Great Indian Love. It describes the frowns on the street, the silent comfort when your friend stands by you while you resolve a ruckus with the cops, the mass celebration when India wins the world cup or that single Olympic Gold medal. Its the force feed your gramma partakes in, the tears your mum sheds for you when you fail for the first time in school, the money you beget when your granddad receives your obeisance, the presence of your husband who moves with you when you want to or the tolerance of your wife who wakes up to serve you dinner when you come home at 2pm after a week long trip. I' ll also bet that you see it in the colors of Holi we gladly put on unknown faces and in the lamps we light for our neighbor who is out of town for Diwali. You certainly cant miss it in the assuring afternoon Namaz you hear from the boom box outside of the mosque or in the Suprabatam we hear ever so often from a similar boom box of a temple. Its in the hilariousness we share with our sisters when the priests compete for the mic during a wedding (in case yours is one of those love marriages within the Indian culture look out for it!) and in the laughter we share at a silent fart your your mother gets blamed for (for feeding you unconditionally ofcourse).

But I wonder often what this rampant bombing does to that Great Indian Love. Do we slowly stop smiling within ourselves? Do we gradually become intolerant with greedy vendors and see capitalist motives in autorickshaw drivers? Do we celebrate Ganeshcharuti or Mahashivrati will less gusto and color because we are fraught with fear about the next mob bombing spree? Do we become xenophobic every time our Hindu religious friend steps into our homes or our Muslim neighbor offers their delicious Haleem? Do we turn into bigots who offer our seats to our parents but not to the older gentleman standing in front of us?

What happens to the common 'man' over time if he is continually terrorized?

The Myth of the Martian

2008-09-14T00:34:00.000+05:30

Men are from mars while woman aren't. Always hated that assumption and the need to bring it up every time I talk about why I don't get my man sometimes. At the same time, I totally love my man. But honey, if you're reading this, I m sorry, but you probably also know that it doesn't mean you wont be a complete backside sometimes. I have my reasons to justify this, dear man.

Why do you have to talk about another woman you find pretty? Why do you have to comment on how you think she is the fittest woman you have ever seen? No, I'm not saying I am close to being like her and I do admire that she represents India on the Taekwondo team nationally, internationally or locally...whatever... but why...WHY..do you need to tell me how much you admire that, especially after asking me when I would start my gym sessions again!

You are committed to your woman, I give you that. I am happy to hang out with you. There's much pleasure in sitting in your silence, I love that. There's joy in our cuddles and our laughs. All this good stuff reminds me of how much you mean to me. At the same time its hilarious really how often that big feet of yours finds its way with so much ease into that even bigger mouth. And its not a story of one. Women every day find their men doing this one-legged hop when their mouth is busy chewing on the other foot.

If i were to bring your slips of tongue back to the 'Man are Mars' rationale that would only enrage me more and besides, accepting such a thing without reason is not how I'm made my dear. So, I think about it, after all I do have my space to do that sitting miles away from you.
I see that it goes back again to the way you as a man are socialized and how it is very different from the way I am, as a woman. Woman as girls are taught to be like barbie dolls, taught to care for others and be maternal and domestic. We play with dolls while our brothers play with monster trucks. We play with our kitchen sets while you play with building houses, we are the nurses and the teachers while you are the doctor or the principal, in our little make do games that we play together. 'Boys don't cry' while us girls can wallow in self pity or flail our hands and legs about and weep to get what we want. Men have to be macho, cannot express affection at every turn, ride awesome bikes and be the knight in shining armor else your manhood becomes questionable. And all the nay saying about staying committed, I see how that's a survival tool to keep up this machismo facade you have going on. When I say facade though I don't mean to simplify the realness of it. But I think when one becomes aware of the impact of such socialization it becomes impossible to actually stay mad at someone with their feet in their mouth but at the same time it also makes it impossible not to help some one see light in such imposition. These stories of socialization are something we feel in our blood,our psyche and our being and I get that but how difficult is it to recognize the folly of a socialization, apologize and become mindful of it when it is repeated yet again?

A Bollywood Blockbuster Concoction

2008-09-12T05:57:00.000+05:30

I recently watched Bend it Like Beckham with a dear friend when I got back to life on the other side of the planet. Was telling her about the rituals of weddings in India and was pointing out some commonalities among our myriad practices. One of them was 'bidai' or the traditional sending off of the married daughter to her husband's home. The bidai sequence of any Indian movie chokes me up. I'd imagine it goes into the list of cathartic scenes Bollywood could play with to create a blockbuster hit. Meanwhile though, I kept wondering if my friend who was watching the movie with me felt cathartic too. Now that I think of it, I should have asked, but you know how it is...you're all teary eyed and want to avoid any conversations during this time, you hide your face with your hand..."opp..my eye..damn this dusty room!" She probably did though, right? Its hard not to put oneself in the place of someone who is crossing thresholds and experiencing the becoming of someone more. Its pretty much why I think it'll make such a good Blockbuster movie addition.

Again last weekend I watched another movie with a wedding in it! Not a blockbuster hit, far from it actually, called 'Babul' . It was among the collection of cds I brought with me from home to generate the home-away-from- home feeling. It had its moments but for the most part it was really annoying and gave me the hiby-gibies. I was furious at the women's role in the movie and would have gone on a shooting spree had it not been for that fact that it didnt do so well on the box office. But seriously, even this movie made me cry during the 'bidai' scene which is probably why the newspapers gave it three stars out of five!

This got me thinking about rites of passage and how this sending off the daughter is one of the oldest traditions in Indian culture. I like the symbolism and it certainly is a rite of passage that is in essence very therapeutic because of the ingrained ritual, if you come to think of it. It brings us out of our liminal stages and supports our movement toward an integrated self. Barring the dogma and power dynamic that feeds into family lineages about upholding traditions, it can be enduring and very supportive, this process of noticing and being mindful of individual rites of passage. But obviously, even during my wedding, there was such righteous belief about leaving parents forever and becoming a part of the husband family that I was annoyed and pissed about the whole ritual itself.

However, much after my wedding, sitting far far away from all the bigots and dogmatic up keepers of traditions, I began to make peace with my own wedding and my three year long marriage. I came to see how naming ceremonies, birthdays, celebration of womanhood and manhood, graduations, weddings, anniversaries, childbirth, sixtieth and eightieth birthday, and death celebrates the circle of life that interwines itself with every other childbirth, naming ceremony, birthday, womanhood, graduations, wedding, anniversary, sixtieth birthday, eightieth birthday and death.

And what do you know! Bollywood knew this all along. Its precisely why mixing and matching any of these phases and the liminal stages within each of these phases totally creates a blockbuster movie!

The Colors of a Spectrum

2008-09-09T09:16:00.000+05:30

The dynamic that often creates itself between most South Asians who are not American citizens and South Asians who are American Citizens in the United States is one to reckon with because, well, it stands out when you live here. Here's my perspective on 'us' who'd rather remain 'us' and 'them'. The FOBs and ABCDs as they are called as a rule don't get along with one another. When I say FOB, I don't mean it the import-export sense of the term, about the goods exported in and out of nations. Here its the human life with all its life's experience, love, anxieties, disappointments, expertise, fears, insecurities, and hopes exporting itself to another country. So, FOBs = Fresh-Off-Boat's, myself in the context. And ABCDs = American Born Confused Desi's.

No, I am not just making things up about them not getting along! Consider these terms, would we call people FOBs or ABCDs if there was compassion in the air? And besides I believe experience as holding enough verity for life as it occurs. Firstly, You have to agree that humans in general major in the language of the unsaid. We get what a frown means, what a shrug is and what that punch in the gut with your eyes mean. Its universal, the language of the unsaid. So we feel the love when us "FOBs" make the mistake of catching another "ABCDs" eye when there aint no smiles there for you. If we catch each other walking down the street...'ohh whats this new found treasure in my bad' routine takes precedence. If I am stuck in a class with no other seat empty but the one beside mine for my ABCD counterpart to sit on, there goes my evening! (probably her's too) My name is asked, my accent is known and the head turned to the other side. Ahem..what did i do? Did I say my name the way it should be said? Or did I not seem like I know English?

Its not so difficult to understand this dynamic actually. I am new to this country and I am excited to be here. I have idealized the West, enough to come here for my education and most likely live here for the rest of my life. The decision is based on the assumption that South Asia cannot give me as much as North America can- what with all the assumed opportunities, the status of being in a foreign country ( 'ohhh America!'), the distance from impoverished Dharavi 's of India, the list is endless, really, when you are on this path down bitchdom lane but you do get why the US is the 'land of opportunities' right? So yes, I love being the Monica of friends, or even crazy Phoebe or uptight Rachael and here I come to be this person and that but not what I apparently represent when I come from India. Besides, its not rocket science that people stereotype one another. And as an Indian in a paraiah country, I represent the stereotypes of being conservative, geeky, parochial, hardworking, good at math, etc. And of course when you see me you know, I am not the ideal White European symbol of a woman, and just as well.. I am not that important. But nevertheless, here I am, in the world where I wanted to be ever since I discovered geography, economics and the media. I truly knew that I will be a perfect fit here in a western world that advertises itself as being open minded, welcoming, multicultural, and liberating. Cultural Shock is what I beget, unexpectedly. I am told, I am an Indian, a brown person from a developing country with an accent that says I am not English. A misfit in essence, an odd woman out if you will. Laid out here, then, is the "Desi" experience of coming to "ohhh America!".

On the other hand, the life of an ABCD is not a personal experience, its a speculation and hearsay but methinks it has similar undertones to the life of a "real Desi"... with an important distinction that they have lived the life , from day one, of someone who has had to strive to be this White European symbol of who a good human is. Lighter skin, accentless talk, non parochial, non conservative, and free of constricting traditions. So when I come into the picture my South Asian American colleague finds that I am someone she has been striving not to be and, the effort is very deliberate. That said, the need to fit in is universal and no one is spared really, so while I am wondering with mighty anger why even though we look the same I get looked down upon, another South Asian American is probably saying no I am different from you and you need to respect that. Ironically, there is a common force even here- this need to be closer to the end of spectrum that is representative of who a westerner is or an American is (or in other words, who a White Euro American is) and as a result this pull and tug at being someone we aren't creates painful experiences for everyone involved.

Its a fact of our lives- the media reinforces for the society about who is at the highest rung of being "cool", accepted and acknowledged. White men write the story of America only to oppress every other race. I kid you not. Read some of the eight grade history lessons and you'll know. The VHP controls textbook content in the North of India, while the DMK does the same in the South, read them and you'll see. We are, as a global community taught to value wealth and the country that has it gets to enforce cultural dominion in some way or the other. Our collective psyches are affected by this pull and tug and we let this superfluous awareness dominate our daily interactions.

Thankfully though, I've learned over time that defining who I am today as a result of my experiences, my birth place, my class, my gender, my sexual identity and my religion, and being open to the person I will become helps in this process of acknowledging myself and others. I am certainly evolving and that's the beauty of it all but as far as I am concerned being on this path is what makes me more humane. The path towards acknowledging our similarities and respecting our differences helps us look at these punches in the gut and frowns on the faces of others with more compassion. It helps in the process of self love in that non-narcissistic way as well. Like Friere says, it also helps if we learn to critically question everything we take in as facts and realities. Media bashing is one thing, and on the other hand is critically thinking about what often goes into our psyches without much forethought.

A world that works towards understanding stereotypes, acknowledging familiarities, and respecting differences has such an amazing ring to it, doesnt it?

Are we there yet?

2008-09-06T03:07:00.000+05:30

Two amazing months back home with friends, family, and my beau. Home is not a perfect place to be in but I do get my perfect dose of affection, fights, disappointments, arguments, laughs, and heartbreaks. I found myself moving from one end of this spectrum to the other with such ease that it often reminded me of my ineptitude at doing the same with such simplicity when I am alone stranded by choice in one of the most fabulous cities of the world. What can I say, that's home for me. A place where I am my best and my worst self.

This time around too I moved between the two ends of the spectrum-of joy and sadness, of hate and love, of anger and peace with ease but what stayed behind for due venting was the story about what made me truly indignant.

It began with a visit to the parlor, the beauty parlor, and I am sure you'll see the irony of this story soon, but I went in there to relax, I wanted to treat my mum for a wonderfully relaxing spa, I wanted us to go into a deep soothing sleep and be rejuvenated to face the stress of a vacation. But what do i get? The lady says " You are very dark, you should get the skin lightening treatment", the other one looks to me and says " Your face is full of zits! you should certainly get your acne treated". Well! that makes me feel all better! I am going to turn into a beautiful swan. No more ugly duckling days!Yahoo! And whats more, I am going to also free myself from the disappointment a brown woman feels, by being scrubbed into light!

Here's another story, I visit a married friend and she tells me her gynecologist told her 23-26 yrs of one's life are the most fertile years for a woman and I should hence think about having children as well, just like she did! Well, I am married so she tells me that, what about you unmarried 23-26 year olds eh! want to be a Baby Mama?

Incident number three, we are walking atop a hill to look at the scenic Vellore, and be warned I am not guardian enough, a 24year old adult woman, to be protection for my eighteen year old adult sister. We are shooed away by my sisters school that says 'Women Are Not Allowed in Secluded Areas on their own!' I reason 'but we are together, not alone!' oh well! it doesn't matter, a flock of birds can be more self sufficient, safer and stronger than a couple of women walking up a cool looking hillock.

You want a fourth one to really spruce things up? Ok, I am walking back home, the area I live in is an upper middle class neighborhood but what can I say, upper middle class is not synonymous to safety anyway, and here I am, a 24yr old woman sprinting down the street at 8 in the evening and what happens? A young man on a speeding bike gropes at my chest and squeezes at my breasts. No I am not an auto rickshaw, I am a woman-the yin if you are the yang and the amimus if you are the anima. On that note, don't even get any woman started on what she undergoes at least once in a lifetime if she commutes by public transportation.

Yes, I am hinting at the woman's place in the world. Directly referring to it actually. My examples may be a daily lived experience and perfectly fine with many but that's exactly why its an issue. We have assumed a place of a being not good enough. We are open targets for horizontal and vertical "oppression" (for a lack of a better word) and stereotype. No I am not a victim of all the injustice done unto me but I am a survivor nonetheless, like many million women who are, but nevertheless, I succumb in subtle ways to the stereotype. I confirm your assumptions about who I should be, all the same. I am a romantic, I want flowers from my man, I want love to be expressed, I want children one day, I want the happily-ever-after. Are these desires so imbued in me via the society that I live in and by the people who surround me that I am not sure if 'I' want this or my socially construed self wants it? Well, I dont know. And I dont think it really matters even. I am what I am, thanks to Popeye.

What I ask for though is a world that respects people for being different. Yes, I am a woman who will never marry and would not want children. Why should I be talked about and taunted? Why should I be the one referred to when my friend doesn't get married by the time she is 27 or 28 years of age. 'You don't want to end up like her, do you?'. Yes, I am a woman who thought arranged marriage was the way to go. Iam married and now I live with my husband and his family, I have my moments, its hard and its amazing both at seperate times, but why do you feel the need to mention to me as an example of someone you don't want to be? Why the comparison? Why the competition to be someone better?

But coming back to my indignant self and my place as a woman. Where is my place if you want to always put me down? Where is my place if you tell me I am ugly when placed in a scale that has what media construes as beautiful and their version of the ugly? Isn't having zits a human right? where can I shove my really 'dark' face ? Where do I live if I am groped at every time I step out of my home? How do I work if my man boss thinks I am a woman and cant handle the stress that comes with being the CEO of the company I've spent 20 years of my life working at? Everyday, millions of woman are rendered powerless by their men, by their society that tells them they ought to live that stereotype, in that vicious cycle that begets more fear and more subordination each time a man proceeds to be a 'man'. I say 'Yes' 10 times for that one single 'NO' that I strive to conjure up, and this is me, a woman of 24years of age, born in an upper middle class family, with parents who were nurturing and life which was relatively comfortable. What of your household help who comes in with a black eye and says she hit herself against the wall? What of that mother who works only to waste away all that money earned, into the desires of her drunken husband? What of that powerful working woman who gives up her career because her husband cannot handle the competition? What of that creative girl who marries early only to stall her life for everyone else's priorities?

Its a brand new century for a zillion different reasons, but when are we going to get to a place where stereotypes are acknowledged, addressed and peeled away, where differences can be rejoiced and respected, where equity and equality are both on the same pedestal, where saying a NO is just as simple as saying a YES and where its not so much more work to be just who you are?