A Sunday at home…

The Sundays have become more exciting these days. Since I regulated my workaholic habits and began spending less time with friends, I am at home on Sundays. Mom is quite excited about the new development that she would plan small walks, shopping or special cooking sessions on Sundays. Yesterday was such a day that we went outside. We ended up purchasing a lot. Most of the things we purchased were unwanted, yet the happiness it created was priceless.

Sometimes, it is a small thing that excites us. Yesterday, a coffee mug we received along with the limited edition Bru coffee packet created much hullabaloo. The color and the posture, both made it adorable. We have decided to buy more Bru coffee packets so that we can collect the coffee mugs.

A cinema and a cooking session followed the day. The laughter, fun and chit-chats made a day worth spent.

When February bids goodbye…

February 2016 ends today. When I look back, it was a month of despair and recovery. Most of my schedules weren’t on track in the initial two weeks of the month. A journey home and Mayada Al-Askari helped me revive my happy days.

A notable achievement this month would be regularizing the office time. Most of the days, I managed to stick to the schedule and thereby, reach office by 9 am. I have been consistently reading too, although I am yet to finish the book ‘The Diary of a Young Girl’ by Anne Frank. Workwise, I may not call it as a satisfied month. However, I can call it as a 'not bad' month. On the financial side, February was expensive. The unexpected expenses showed up from nowhere and created a mess to my bank accounts. On a personal side, I’m happy that I am writing almost every day.

Another interesting thing I did this month is moving away from Facebook. I was thinking to do this for a while, but the work demanded me to stay active on the platform. I’m still not completely away from it except that I deactivated it, which is a sign of getting back to it sooner or later.

Overall, I’m closing February 2016 with a smile, expecting March 2016 to welcome me with much happiness and regularity.

My suggestions to become a good speaker

The thing I like about my job is the novelty it gives me every day. Being an educational institution, there are veterans visiting campus and taking classes for students. My job involves meeting them, attending their sessions, and collecting details about various things, which were unknown to me before.

Today, the visitor was Prof. Karen Sneha Moawad. She currently serves as the Program Manager of Amrita Center for International Programs (ACIP), North America. Earlier, she was working as a consultant in orthodontic practices for more than 35 years, which also involves establishing Hummingbird Associates, an orthodontic management consulting firm, headquartered on Bainbridge Island, near Seattle, Washington.

  

Prof. Moawad is here to conduct a two-day workshop on ‘Public Speaking’, aimed at making the students better speakers. I sat in the workshop for nearly 30 minutes and heard various inspiring stories of people, who became achievers due to their public speaking ability. She shared interesting ideas and methods to become a good public speaker.

The session unleashed the child in me, who was once a part of extempore and elocution competitions at the school. I remembered the moments when I screwed up before the crowd. I also remembered numerous other instants when I won the love of the audience. I’m not a good story teller, yet I managed to present my views before the people well (at least, I thought I did). That gave me the confidence of presenting me and never faced many issues in interview boards or during presentations in meetings.

One thing I felt about public speaking is to be yourself when you are talking to the people. It’s natural that we feel to impress the crowd hearing our speech. For example, an interview. But, the interview is also a place where we look at the company and assess if we suit the culture existing there. We should also look at the kind of the job offered and if we could fulfill the responsibilities offered to us. This thought has helped me immensely, that I naturally tell them what I know, ask them in detail about the work, and say ‘no’ to things I cannot do. I also stay open and tell them that I can learn new things. Hence, the speaking wasn’t a tension for me. From my experience, it works hundred percent.

Also, the crowd in front of you is not there to kill you. There is a purpose why we stand in front of a crowd and let us fulfill that purpose without consuming much time. A smile and maintaining a rhythm in talking (I always end up being fast, a habit I’m trying to correct) will make it more beautiful.

In short, be true, say just what you are supposed to speak in a polite manner and smiling face, and leave the stage with a thank you.

The smile on the wrinkles…

Image Courtesy: tribune.com.pk

There is an old lady who comes to clean our office everyday morning. The white hair, fair skin, cute smile, small rounded face, all arranged proportionately on a short and lean body make her a beauty of her age. She is responsible for cleaning the faculty rooms and hence, she is close to the stalwarts in the office. I ensure that I talk to her irrespective of how busy I’m with work. During such short chit-chats, she even shares some of her life stories, which leave a new generation like me dumbstruck.

These days, she has developed a swollen finger on her right hand. Despite showing the doctor, which she claimed to be a waste of money, the finger stays swollen. With a sad face, she came to me inquiring a way to get rid of the swelling. All I could think of was a home-remedy of applying oils. She felt the idea appealing and came back with a handful of oil.

I helped her by massaging the fingers with oil for some time and she left. Next day, when I was back at the seat, she was again at my seat asking me to massage the fingers like I did earlier. As the exercise continues, I realize she enjoys the care she receives than the hope of her finger getting healed. Every time, she leaves my seat with a happy smile, I remember, ‘Our time is the best gift we can give someone we care.’

The White Land Rover

Luxury is an addiction, an undeniable one. That’s why the white-colored Land Rover I saw in the morning entices me. There was a man, macho by all parameters defining masculinity, driving it with the sheer pride of luxury. The moment gave me a thought of owning all luxuries in the world just for the pleasure of owning them. It woke me up from the sleepy journey to the office. It brightened my day.

What’s in it that attracted me? I do not know. Was it the perception that ‘Land Rover is a luxury’? Was it that the beauty of the vehicle and the indirect sight of ‘power’ that protrudes out of it? Of any kind, I should tell you, it was an utter pleasure to witness the drive of a white Land Rover.

A wooden summer house on the hill, white Land Rover, perhaps everything the world infused into me as ‘premium’ with heavy price tags gives me goose bumps, no matter whether I value them or not in the actual sense.

Starting a bright sunny day with the hangover of a luxury…

The girl next cubicle: Part I

The girl sitting in the next cubicle in my office excites me. She is raw, carries her own perceptions about her life, and takes steps to fulfill them. With these three parameters intact, I would define her, ‘worthy’ and ‘evolving’. Her insights on life are nothing new, yet are those that most people hardly do practically. We may tend to define her views as ‘bookish’, like those we read on the pages of a heavy written spiritual one. In fact, she is trying to find something of herself and that’s why I call her ‘evolving’. It’s also the best age for her to evolve. She is free from burdens and is not late considering her young age.

Image Courtesy: favim.com

I would put her thoughts in words across multiple posts. Here I merely introduce you to her. Perhaps, I have introduced her earlier – the girl who wish to see Sadguru, between umpteen number of things written in a huge post.  So, the girl is in her late 20s, well-educated and loves to read books. We do not belong to any professional community usually seen in a business school, like faculty, students, administrative staff, attenders, etc. Hence, we are standalone ones and that ended up bringing us together.

We started talking even before becoming neighbors at the workplace. When we sat at different places, she used to take time off to visit me for some time and ensured that she leaves something of her with me (in the sense, her thoughts) to think. As we started sharing the same office room, we began talking about everything under the sun. These random talks happening for 10 minutes between the works gives me something to ponder. It would sometimes allow me to find myself too. I may find the answer to something which I have been thinking for long or may end up defining something which I was earlier unclear about.

There are a lot to talk about her. Now it’s time for lunch. See you soon.

To deny or to nod…?

I can sense a wickedness in this image. 

When I turn back the pages of my life, I see lots of pain and tears of a little girl, who struggled to walk alone, yet made everything possible all by herself. Little she complained, little she shed tears in front of others. Her family was always the source of her agony. The other members frequently created problems that affected her directly or indirectly. She carried that pain always within, but never cursed or blamed anyone. Instead loved them more.

The time passed by and she is now a lady. She lives in another city far away from her family. Like the majority of Indians, she undertakes the responsibility of supporting her family and she does that pretty well. They are still the selfish set of people, who create problems and tries to disturb the family in whatsoever ways it’s.

Is it still necessary that she has to bear those? Perhaps, raising the voice against could teach them a lesson and give them the strength to deal with their problems. When she suddenly withdraws the usual support she offers, they may panic. The world may blame her as heartless. For the first time, she would be labelled as ‘selfish’ or ‘cruel’. But, does that really matter? What the world thinks about her is not her concern. The world hasn’t gone through the pain she had been through.

A happy me…

I can feel the sunshine. The warmth of it. But, I’m sitting inside at my workplace and not under an open sky. So, how do I feel it? Yes. My mind conceives it. Let me close my eyes and take a deep look inside. I can see a smiling me. I’m hopping like rabbits on the green grass outside my house. It’s sunny, but not hot. The tamarind tree near the huge concrete fence is shaking its leaves. A few fresh ripened tamarinds have fallen on the ground.

As a kid, I used to hide behind the water tank nearby to pick the fallen tamarinds without my mother’s knowledge. Somehow she always knew and rushed to the spot when I am all set to pick one. Still tamarinds make me drool.

There are few books lying scattered on the grass. I can see a pen and my usual notebook in which I scribble things. Perhaps, I was writing. Neither the cover pages of the books nor my writings are visible. The wind is whooshing. Some torn pages from the notebook started flying around. I’m running around to collect them. I’m still smiling.

I can sense a new energy in me. Reasonless, yet strong. I wish everyday could be as bright as today!

Hurry travel, smooth work, Sadguru, a marriage and more…

How do I define this day? Perhaps, eventful. The day started with a fresh zeal. I managed to get ready soon and walked fast to the bus stand. I had to wait around 15 minutes for the bus. I opened the book ‘The diary of a young girl’ by Anne Frank. After reading Mayada’s biography, I have found a love for reading realistic events of life than fictions. Through the words of 13 years girl, I was living through the Second World War imagining and re-imagining the lives of people then. The arrival of the bus nor my entry into it wasn’t of much significance as I was fully submerged into the pages of the book in my hand.

Suddenly, there was a creaking noise from above. I lifted my head and saw a dusty metal box fixed on the roof of the bus, right above my head. It has lost its lock. The sudden opening of it in a running bus deposited dust particles on my head and on the pages I read. The ladies behind seem to be caring. They murmured about the dust fell on my body. But, who cares? I was still delved deep into The diary of a young girl.

The bus stopped at a bus station, just two stops behind the place where I had to get down. There was smoke coming out from beneath, near the right tyre of the bus, again right below my seat. The people on the road were screaming about the heavy smoke gushing out and the driver reluctantly decided to stop the bus. The travelers started getting down and I was one among them who got down last. It was sure there will be no vehicles on that highway to catch. People were busy discussing the travel options. Few decided to walk towards the nearby bus stand and the few stayed back waiting for the next bus to arrive.

My watch said 8.45am, the time when the first bell rings in my office. So my choice was to walk forward. After reaching the next bus stop, I managed to catch an auto to my office. The autowalas in Coimbatore are expensive and my nearly empty wallet lost another INR 100 from it. By the time I reached near the gate, it was 9 am and I literally had to run towards my building, which is another 15 minutes far from the main gate. Although late, I managed to punch in at 9.15 am, the exact time I punched yesterday (Although late, I seem to be maintaining my own punctuality).

The heavy morning did not drain me. I planned the day’s work and began rushing through them. I went in a rhythm and the girl sitting next to me kept asking, ‘you never rest?’. The question gave me some level of satisfaction and I continued my race through the work.

In between, she (the girl next to me) suddenly seemed to have developed a desire to meet Sadguru Jaggi Vasudev. Unlike the normal way of meeting him through darshans, she wanted to meet him in person and spend 10 minutes time exclusively with him. Initially, I felt it only as a desire, but she started hunting for the ways to meet him. I promised her I will also accompany her, in case if she gets a chance. She was adamant that she kept saying if she could not meet him this time, she would never meet him again. We together made few website searches and phone calls, the final result is yet to be known.

The evening reminded me of a colleague of mine, who seemed to be missing from the office. On inquiry, somebody told me that he left home in the morning due to some emergency.

I decided to call him and there awaited a heavy news that he is getting married tomorrow (obviously, it’s a cupid hit the heart story). I am asked to keep the news as a secret, which I readily agreed and promised too. If you ask me, if I maintained that promise, yes I did. Perhaps, ‘No, I didn’t’ as well. The reason for ‘yes’ is because I didn’t share that news with any of my other colleagues although my tongue was itching (sometimes, I’m too womanish). The reason why I say, ‘No’, I did not maintain the promise,’ is because I’m writing it on this blog, which is sure to get published today before his marriage. Whatsoever, I’m happy for both of them and wishing them good luck.

The virtual clock displayed on the screen of my desktop clicked 5 pm and I had to begin my next rush of returning home. I was late, so I walked fast to the bus stand. I managed to catch the bus by 5.30 pm and the journey was quite a thoughtful one. The day quickly went through a recap and slowly crept into my own future fantasies, which I believe would never happen.

I had to catch another bus to reach home and I saw a bus parked. The board written on it had the name of the place for me to go, hence I confidently got in. I felt suspicious because the bus was empty, which is unusual. Yet I decided to sit inside. As the bus started and crossed the roads, I realized it’s going to another route. Nevertheless, I got down to a nearby place and walked a little more to reach home.

So, here an eventful day is marking an end. The day was long, yet I say I feel cheerful and happy as it kept me occupied. 

The days of books and madness …

Being alone is not so scary. Initially, you look around, conceal yourself behind the thickest woods without knowing the snakes on it and as you realize, you run farthest through every moment you scared. I may sound cynical, dramatic and weird. But, it’s true. Later, as you walk forward, you accept the dangers in front of you, still would manage to look fearless.

The days have been tough for me, yet vibrant that I learned to walk alone more sternly than ever. ‘Mayada: Daughter of Iraq: One Woman's Survival under Saddam Hussein’ kept me occupied this week. The pretty eyes hidden behind the veil displayed on the cover page was purely the reason why I picked up the book. Till then, I was unaware of the writer Jean Sasson, nor about Mayada Al-Askari.

The biography of Mayada, once a journalist and her unexpected life in cell no. 52, in the infamous Baladiyat prison, was indeed difficult to read. Sometimes I kept the book down without able to digest the cruelties human beings are able to do to their fellow beings.

I could sense the deepest wounds of the people lived under Saddam Hussein’s rein. The royalty, the administration and the poverty filled the pages, offering any reader a fabulous read. At times, I had to reluctantly keep the book away, but I ensured I came back to it sooner than expected. It kept me occupied, it kept me entangled to the pains of unknown people.

This is the best thing I love about books. They introduce us to things which I have never been through, render us the emotions we never felt. Moving to the next book soon...

The clock…

The sense of time remains carved deep into the souls of human beings. We cannot imagine a life without counting minutes, days, months and years. The sparkling sun to the calendar hanging on the wall remind us of the time every now and then. They create a sense of deep fear that the ‘time is running out’. We tend to run behind things because we know the time is running.

There are two crows sitting outside on the branches of my windows. They are together always, enjoying the whooshing wind and eating the pieces of coconuts and bread they got from the canteen backyard. Aren’t they entangled with the fear of losing time? Aren’t they not aware of the race that happens around them? There is no calendar to remind them, nor the watches tied on their wings. But, they do wake up to the sun, whom we made as the ultimate determiner for time measurement.

Through the rolling eyes that stare at me from outside the window, I can sense peace. Are they reading my daunting mind? Are they sensing my pain?

Witnessing the blue sky…

I would address the recent days as ‘recovery days’. The darkness slowly departs from me. I started working better, routines are getting back on track. Obviously, I pay the hefty fee for keeping things pending by spending extra hours to finish the works.

Although we know the time that gone would never come back and as it goes, it also takes away a share of our life by pushing us towards the death, we tend to waste it. The dreams are pending, the desires mount high, yet we sit and glance at the blue sky!

Am I being too emphatic towards things? Is that the reason why I feel averse after being on track for long? I am not sure of this, yet I think I should take things more seamless and flexible. Sharing this small thought, I am going to begin my next set of work – the freelancing!

The dark days I hate…

The lost feeling, reason less sadness, terrible disinterest, the instability…these are the things at which I scream, “I simply cannot take it”. I hate them, so I get them often too. Now, I am on the verge of another set of broken days and I did not even know why I feel so. I have become a bad employee (on my parameters) because I have kept works pending for no reason. I stayed away from all my routines including reading. I was questioning my very own existence.

Image Courtesy: Amand Millard Photography

As a means to come out from the dark days, I just went out and did a little bit of pampering for myself. The girl at the beauty spa had to take some extra efforts to bring me back into shape. For the first time, the hot wax felt unfamiliar to me. The strips or the shapes, everything was new to me. She kept talking and I was almost deaf. The head massage took me to a little nap. Unlike the usual days, I wasn’t so hesitant to wait. My tolerance helped several others who visited the spa after me that they finished their works earlier than me.

Few walks, a little shopping…pending things when erased from my to-do list give me a little bit of happiness. I slept for a long time and made a sandwich, the simplest thing to break my motionless days. Here I am, little recovered.

Why these emotional instabilities creep into our lives when we least expect it? I am still trying to find the answer for this because I wish to solve it permanently. It’s like the cloud suddenly appears in the middle of a sunny day. It would be fun if it explodes and rain entertains us. But, it stays gloomy, making us wonder what has the God forgotten to take.

I wonder if this is a way for my mind to embrace itself. May be makes me stronger. I hope for better days from tomorrow.

When somebody decided to leave home with half a fridge…

Leaving Home with Half a Fridge is a memoir by Aarathi Menon. I am yet to read it, but I know that the book is about how the writer survived her divorce. One of my friends who recently read the book got deeply sensitive about it (she is yet to find her prince charming). She decided to meet me, who is another havoc in these things. The dialogue reached topics like how trivial things result in ceasing a beautiful relationship. It’s the season of celebrity split ups too, hence the topic seemed sensible for the day.

Image Courtesy: www.doublecrossed.ca

I relived my memories on relationships, which definitely include silly infatuations and took time to analyze why and how I decided choices, even to opt for one or to get rid of one. I definitely agree that the matter of relationship can never be generalized and it differs from one to another. Nobody can take a final call on it, nor can decide if one was wrong or right in taking any decisions. It heavily depends up on the conditioning, social systems, awareness and beliefs on gender and many more such innumerable factors, and I would not risk to stomp on it.

Of any kind, break ups of sincere relationships do create a mess in life. They teach us several things, either to live better or die worse. The whole dialogue and time spent on thinking about these proved worthless for me. It is not because I do no value these. But, it is because I’m not clear on the chemistry and mindset involved in relationships. I myself has changed its course several times in my life, and has learned a new lesson each time. Anyways, mind has the liberty to become worthless once in a while and today was that day!