Saturday 27 August 2011

Ignorance may be bliss but Knowledge is Power....!


Recently (around 10 months ago, that counts as recent when you’ve been around for 28 years), I realised I didn’t know what my favourite food was.  Being a foodie I love all sorts of food so always accommodate the choices of people around me unless, I have specific food cravings.

Since the realisation dawned, I had to find out what my favourite food is. So I set out trialling new cuisines at every opportunity I had and I finally found my answer. I felt a strange sort of ‘good’ when I found out. Like I had discovered something new about myself. Because I was feeling so nice, I wanted to share it with someone. So I asked my mum what her favourite food was. 

She said, “everything.”

I said, “Yes, I know you eat everything. But what’s your favourite?”

She raised her eyes towards the ceiling trying to recall her favourite food. She didn’t know. I was staring at her, waiting for an answer. She replied, “everything.”

“C’mon Mumma, think. What would you like me to cook for you on your birthday? What would you want to eat if it was your last meal?”

She replied, “Your dad’s favourite dish is ‘xyz.' I also like it”

WTF….! Just because my dad likes a particular dish, it’s her favourite too. I mean, its sweet and all but she had a life before she met my dad too. I wasn’t willing to settle for that answer. I wanted her to feel the same kind of ‘good’ I had felt. So I probed a little more. She got a little agitated saying, “Tulu, you think a lot about a lot of stuff. I don’t like to think so much. I don’t care about my favourite food.”

Wow…..! I knew then the exact sentiments that went into coining the phrase “ignorance is bliss.” I left the topic saying, “Mumma, I’m only asking because it’s good to know things about yourself. You feel empowered to change what you don't like and improve the things you like. Food is the most basic thing you can know about yourself. That’s why I was asking you. If it’s going to get you all upset I’ll leave it.”

My aunt visited around that time so my mum asked her the same question. She was surprised at how quickly my aunt responded telling her about her favourite food. For the next couple of weeks I noticed her attitude had changed slightly. The next time she spoke to her mum she asked what her favourite food was growing up. After taking into consideration a lot of choices and the process of elimination she realised what her favourite food was and told me about it. As soon as she said it, I saw her face light up. She looked happy. She said she realised how she had forgotten about herself for such a long time. In that instance we both shared a very special moment together.

But why did I tell you this story?

From this experience I realised how I had been so caught up in making the happiness of people around me a priority that I lost track of what I really liked or disliked. I just adopted the choices of the people around me. When I asked my mum the same I realised how she’d just adopted my dad’s choices for her own.

Can we not love someone and still like things that are different to him or her?

I’ve learnt that before you can love anyone you have to really love yourself. If you don’t you really have love within you, there’s not much to offer. And you can only love ‘you’ once you actually know ‘you.’ 

Keep discovering. After all, knowledge is power..! :)

P.S. Mum’s favourite is bhel puri and mine is Asian food. Thai tops the list… J

Sunday 21 August 2011

Letting go..


You’re in love with a guy. The 'head over heels' kind of love. You can’t get enough of that person. It’s not the right relationship. Everyone can see it. They’ve all warned you about it. But you’re too blind to notice anything. You just want to be around that person. You’ve forgotten your life prior to meeting that person. Your friends don’t exist anymore. They’ve become annoying because they’re warning you to stay away from him. Then one day that relationship comes to an end. You feel like your world has just come crumbling down.

What do you do?

You cry. Then you cry some more. You’re shattered and you spend quite a bit of time feeling miserable. Then you have moments where you feel, fuck this; I am going to take control of my life. May or may not last very long. Depends. You've questioned yourself enough. Now you’re looking for answers and everywhere you turn; movies, magazines, books, friends, they are all telling you that you need to let go. 

But how exactly do you let go? Is there a set procedure you follow? A technique to be learnt? In my quest to 'let go' here are some of the things I tried.

1.     1. Cut all contact.
In my moment of strength I deleted the number from my phone. Deleted all texts. All e-mails. Cut away all photographs. I didn’t want anything to do with the guy. In my moment of weakness I was checking him out on Facebook. Obviously cutting all contact wasn't working.


2.     2. Cry till you can’t cry anymore.
I called in sick at work. Stayed at home and just cried. Cried my heart out. Not for a week but a month. It wasn’t helping. As if that wasn’t enough I started receiving notices of overdue bill payments. Now I wasn’t even allowed that luxury of crying anymore.

3.     3. Eat
Being an emotional eater this came very easily to me. Since I was home all the time I reached out to food for comfort. Ordering in pizza and coke was effortless. Now I’m wondering why I didn’t demand a loyalty discount. Of course, just ended up putting on more weight.

4.     4. Shop
Like this was going to work? I had put on so much weight that I didn’t fit into anything I tried. It was making me even more depressed. I still shopped for useless things. As if the overdue bill notices weren't enough I now had run up a huge credit card debt.

5.     5. Exercise
The shopping excursions made me realise I had to do something. I decided to get a gym membership and get in shape. By this time I was feeling a little better as I had not seen or heard from him. The whole “out of sight is out of mind” thing was starting to work for me. I joined the gym and became a regular for a couple months. Then I bumped into common friends and got an update about him. 
Fuck! I knew I should’ve pretended I didn’t see them and walked away. But I secretly wanted to know what was happening. That was the last of my exercise.

6.     6. A new relationship
I tried. It didn’t work out. I did realise though that I had developed “trust and commitment issues” and couldn’t really be myself anymore. Even I wouldn't have wanted to date me.

By this time I had exhausted all options available and knew nothing was working. I knew I had to let go. But how? How can you just let go? If it can be learnt, I'm a quick learner. Why is nothing working for me?

Falling in love is quite like skydiving (Yes, I seem to be obsessed with skydiving). You just jump and trust that your parachute will function like it is meant to. In my case, it didn’t. In case of skydiving you don’t really get a second chance if the parachute fails. I felt just like that. 

How could I let go off all those memories, both, good and bad that were etched on my heart?
There was no answer and I just settled to live each day hoping things would sort out.

After almost 5 years I was once again going through the events in my mind trying to figure out a way of just letting go. I had done this so many times, it was like watching a movie on mute and completing all the dialogues yourself. It had been a really long time. I was now frustrated at my own ability to come to terms with reality.

This time, the penny dropped! I realised I was so busy blaming the guy. So busy expecting him to apologise. So busy treating myself as the victim that I didn’t realise I had a big part to play in my own heartbreak. I knew deep within right from the start that he wasn’t a good guy. I still took my chance.

The minute I took responsibility for that, it became very easy to forgive him. Can't explain the feeling. Almost like a huge burden was lifted. I actually physically felt lighter. Happier. Content.

So a bad employment reference, a huge credit card debt, a closet full of useless shit, a 10 kilo gain, a few missed relationships and 5 years later I had finally LET GO…!

The lesson here is what works for one doesn’t necessarily work for another. You have to keep exploring and when you’re absolutely ready the answer will appear. I've just added another option for you to try. But when you try some of the above-mentioned remedies, don’t say I didn’t warn you of their disadvantages… J

Thursday 18 August 2011

My First time... (continued)


So, everyone had checked me out. I think they forgot that prior to that they were having a conversation. Now there was pin drop silence. If you know me well, you already know what a rare commodity silence is when I’m around. So when I say "pin drop silence" you can imagine how unbearably uncomfortable the situation was, for me.

Finally someone spoke. (I think it was my aunt) She asked, “Will you have some ice cream?” Without waiting for a response she turned to me and suggested (through her eyes) I go and get it. Giving up on my impulse to refuse, I went to the kitchen and came back with a tray. While going around I was trying my best to make sure I’m holding the tray at the right distance (more than anyone, my mum needs to be assured she’s taught me well), making sure my dupatta didn’t fall off when I bent forward with the tray, tried not to step on anyone’s toes and of course, made sure I didn’t actually just drop the tray. I finished serving and again, the pin f****** drop silence.

This time, my uncle broke the silence by suggesting the guy and I sit in the balcony and have a “private” discussion. Great. They realised there’s a possibility we may be uncomfortable! 

My sister in law walked with us towards the balcony where a few chairs had been set out and I whispered to her to stay back and sit with us. She walked away. (I don't think she even heard me)
I sat there in silence trying to decide which topic was best (read safest) for the situation. Finally the guy spoke and asked a question. We started exchanging basic details. Where we lived, what we had studied, what work we did, etc. It wasn't a smooth conversation. It had many pauses. I noticed he was trying to make small talk and wasn’t really interested. You know how sometimes, you just know. This time, I just knew.

Somewhere deep within, I was relieved.

After a good 5 minutes, we went back to the living room. They left within the next 5 minutes. Phew..!

As soon as they left, I ran back to the kitchen. I brought out a bowl of ice cream and started eating. Yes, it shouldn’t be a surprise. I am an emotional eater :) As I sat there eating the ice cream everyone was staring at me waiting for me to talk.

They asked me what I thought. I replied, “I don’t know. I have my reservations. We couldn’t even have a decent conversation.” There was a lot of coaxing. I was being given examples of the varied arranged marriages within the family that were successful. Half an hour later, we were no longer having a conversation. It had become a full-blown argument between dad and myself.

I ended it saying, “If the guy is interested, tell him I would like to talk to him again or meet him another time. I can’t take a decision based on the 5 minute conversation we’ve had”

On our way back home, both father and daughter had cooled down and had a chance to think things through. We were in a better mood and that’s when I asked my dad, “What did you really like about the guy?”

Dad replied, “He’s very well educated. He’s got double masters and he’s earning a good salary”.

I asked again, “A personal quality Dad! What personal quality did you really like in the guy?”

He did try to come up with a list of things but soon realised he was trying very hard. Then finally mum stepped in. She said she didn’t feel right about the match. She gave her own reasons. My dad saw what we were trying to say and conceded.

So what happened in the end?

No, I’m not hitched yet. If I had to decide based on those 5-10 minutes, I would’ve said no anyway (If you know me, you could’ve bet on it.)

From the onset of all the drama, I almost forgot it was a first time for my mum and dad too. They were equally nervous and clueless on what to expect. Having had a love marriage they didn’t have to go through such a situation. 

And most importantly, we decided we didn’t want any more arguments like the one we just had. Since my parents persist there will be a few more similar situations coming up in the near future I suggested we put together a manual. The purpose of that manual will be to act as a reference for such situations. Contents will include the things I am allowed to say and not say. Things my parents are allowed to say and not say. Things we are looking for in my husband or their son in law, etc.

Of course I can foresee a lot more heated arguments coming up…. J
Wish me luck.

Wednesday 17 August 2011

My First Time


Ok…...get your head out of the gutter because its not what you think it is... ;)

Just last Saturday, I was supposed to be home for dinner and got delayed in rains and traffic. I got a call from Dad asking how far away I was from home and he hung up quite abruptly when I said I would be a little late. As I walked in I knew very well I was in big trouble. My grandparents had just finished dinner and were watching TV. Mum was wrapping things up in the kitchen and Dad had gone for his after dinner nicotine fix.

Mum saw me tiptoeing in and asked, “Have you got any plans for tomorrow?”  That should have been my cue that something was very wrong. She wasn't mad at me for being late. I was so relieved she wasn’t angry that I didn’t read too much into it.

Before I could say anything Mum continued, “There’s a guy from Sydney. Your uncle has organised a meeting at their place tomorrow and we’re going to see the guy”. That’s it. Her job was done. I heard this and just stood there trying to break it down and actually understand what she’d just told me.

Then I flipped. And started blurting questions like,  “How could you just say yes?” “What am I going to do there?” “What’s his name?” “What will we talk about?” “How can I just talk to anybody?” “Am I supposed to carry a tray of water, etc?” and there were many questions. I didn't know how to react and what to say.

My grandparents were amused at how nervous I was and both of them told me the exact same thing. “Don’t talk too much. Don’t start the conversation. Let him ask all the questions and you just reply. Then ask him a few questions. But don’t ask too many questions.” Surprisingly, my parents, and uncle and aunt all of them later gave me the same advice. Really? I am supposed to decide whether I want to marry this guy or not, and I’m not allowed to ask “too many questions” or talk “too much?” That is quite fucked up. I should be told to ask as many questions as I want. To share as much as I like about myself so we both can make a well informed decision about our future. I didn’t have the strength to argue this point as I was still stuck at the thought of an arranged marriage set up.

Morning came and we packed bags and left for my uncle’s place. On the way, I kept telling myself, “This is just another experience. Similar to sky diving. Just let go and experience it for what it is”. This seemed to help calm my nerves and prepared me to go through with it.

We got to my uncle’s place and got ready for the meeting. As soon as I heard the bell, all my self-talk flew from the window and I caught myself running straight and ended up in the kitchen. My Aunt came and asked me to stay there till they called me. I sat there thinking, “I could run to the bedroom, bathroom (and lock myself there). Why the hell did I run to the kitchen? Silly me.” 

My sister in law took out the water and excused me the torture. The families started talking while I grabbed a stool and sat in the kitchen making eye contact with my sister in law asking what the guy looked like. She’s telling me in a hushed tone, “He’s not bad. He’s not very handsome either”. I sit there wondering what exactly that looked like.

Then my aunt comes to the kitchen and walked me out. I walked towards my dad and there were 5 pair of eyes noticing every step of mine. Those 8 steps felt like 8 kilometers in that moment. As I sat down, everyone took turns to check me out from head to toe.

That's not the worst. That’s yet to come. ... Stay tuned for that J

Friday 12 August 2011

Inner voices


I woke up to an annoying noise under my pillow. It was my alarm. I felt like I’d only just gone to sleep. I looked at the time and wondered if I could afford a snooze. I usually allow 30 minutes snooze time so as always, I hit the snooze button and decided to get a little more shut eye.

As I lay there a conversation ensued between the two voices in my head. It went something like this.

1st voice: “Shant (whom I forced to join me) isn’t going to come today. May as well sleep and start on Wednesday.”

2nd voice: “Something will come up Tuesday night, you’ll skip Wednesday too. There will always be something or the other. You should just get up and go”

1st voice: “You can go, but you haven’t even slept for 6 hours. Your body needs to be well rested. The trainers recommend an 8-hour sleep. You’ve hardly slept for 6 hours”

At this time I got the phone out to switch off the alarm and just go to sleep.

2nd voice: “If you sleep now, you’re eventually going to wake up in a couple of hours. Just make sure you can face yourself in the mirror”

That’s it.....! That was a very powerful statement by the 2nd voice. I realised that this was a commitment to myself. If I can’t honour that, how can I expect anyone to honour his or her commitments towards me?

Before I knew it, I was ready, in the elevator and on my way out. I decided to drive and measure the distance that I wanted to cover. It was just a bit over the 2.5 km mark. I parked the car, plugged in the music and was well and truly on my way.

I felt so powerful for not giving in to my lazy voices and waking up. I kept jogging taking in the sights of the city at 6.00 am. The senior citizen’s group, the regular morning walkers, dogs and cows along the way, the chai wallah filling cups as people wait for their buses, school kids packed in cars on their way to school, garam jalebi and gathiya stores opening up for business, the fresh air, no traffic. I can only hear the song on my iPod and the noise of my breath. Before I knew it, I had run 4 km's in 30 minutes.

As I approach my car, I am filled with a sense of achievement and pride. I feel confident about achieving anything I resolve to. With such a positive feeling, I stretch, get in the car and drive back home. Just picking the right voice has had a ripple effect packed with positivity.

Of course, once I get home, I’ve showered and am falling off to sleep again. (I didn’t have enough sleep, remember?) There’s no guilt (like a lot of people feel during their afternoon siesta’s) and the sleep is really peaceful.

Sunday 7 August 2011

Changing pictures


Not long ago I attended a leadership course at work and stumbled upon a very useful piece of information. Quite simply put, it said we think in pictures. When we hear a word, we immediately think of a picture. Something we’ve come to associate with that word over the years. For example, if I hear the word Red, I think of a red apple. I hear the word invincible, I think of Superman. Apple, iPod. You get the gist…

So like every good course, we were given some time to reflect on some of the associations we had formed and how they were affecting our life. The first one that came to my mind was the word Fat.
As soon as I hear the word I come up with feelings like ugly, undesirable, hurtful, condescending and the like. I thought to myself, this really brings me down, gets me in a very defensive zone and maybe that explains why I come across as a aggressive. So I decided to identify the images that came to mind obviously resulting in these feelings. I wasn’t really surprised at what I came across.

Earliest memory was when my grade two teacher refused to pick me for the annual day dance event because I wasn’t the same size as the rest of the kids. Then a comment here and there while growing up saying “don’t put on any more weight or you won’t look nice”. Then the refusal to let me participate in a sports team. The assumption was that I wouldn’t be fast enough and my team would lose. Worst of all, a boy telling me “If you were thin, I’d have asked you out in a heartbeat.” That sent a message loud and clear that me being a certain size (Fat) was not a good thing.

Now that I knew what was causing the feelings and the attitude I felt empowered to change them. I’m trying to replace those images with that of a gorgeous person that is quite simply overweight. Someone who is voluptuous and blessed with assets others need surgery for… ;). Did you know fat is important for brain function too? So I guess, I’ll add a picture of someone who is quite intelligent too. Fat is a word that quite simply describes a certain shape now.

Of course, a belief formed over 28 odd years cannot change overnight. It takes time. I still get upset at times. The important thing is being aware about what you want to change and working on it. I immediately catch myself slipping back, I remind myself of the new images and almost instantly I'm in a better place.

Next time you’re not happy about a certain thing just try changing the pictures in your mind…. You’ll be surprised… J